"What is it?"
"A chain, mother," said Dolly, holding it up.
"What sort of a chain? Made of what?"
Dolly told her story. Mrs. Copley examined and wondered at the elegance of the work. Mr. Copley promised Dolly a chain of gold.
"I do not want it, father. I like this," said Dolly, putting the chain round her neck.
"Not better than a gold one?"
"Yes, father, I do."
"Why, child?"
"It reminds me of the time, and of the person that made it; and I like it for all that."
"Who was the person? what was his name?"
"A midshipman on the 'Achilles.' His name was Crowninshield."
"A good name," said Mr. Copley.
"Why that was five and a half years ago, child. Did he make such an impression on you? Where is he now?"
"I don't know."
"You have never seen him since?"
"Nor heard of him. I could not even find his name in any of the lists of officers of ships, that I saw sometimes in the paper."
"I'll look for it," said Mr. Copley.
But though he was as good as his word, he was no more successful than Dolly had been.
CHAPTER VIII.
LONDON.
Mrs. Copley did not like London. So she declared after a stay of some months had given her, as she supposed, an opportunity of judging. The house they inhabited was not in a sufficiently fashionable quarter, she complained; and society did not seem to open its doors readily to the new American consul.
"I suppose, mother, we have not been here long enough. People do not know us."
"What do you call 'long enough'?" said Mrs. Copley with sharp emphasis.
"And how are people to know us, if they do not come to see us? When people are strangers, is the very time to go and make their acquaintance; I should say."
"English nature likes to know people before it makes their acquaintance," Mr. Copley remarked. "I do not think you have any cause to find fault."
"No; you have all _you_ want in the way of society, and you have no notion how it is with me. That is men's way. And what do you expect to do with Dolly, shut up in this smoky old street? You might think of Dolly."
"Dolly, dear," said her father, "are you getting smoked out, like your mother? Do you want to go with me and see the Bank of England to-day?"
Dolly made a joyful spring to kiss her thanks, and then flew off to get ready; but stopped at the door.
"Won't you go too, mother?"
"And tire myself to death? No, thank you, Dolly. I am not so young as I was once."
"You are a very young woman for your years, my dear," said Mr. Copley gallantly.
"But I should like to know, Frank," said Mrs. Copley, thawing a little, "what you do mean to do with Dolly?"
"Take her to see the Bank of England. It's a wonderful institution."
"You know what I mean, Frank. Don't run away from my question. You have society enough, I suppose, of the kind that suits you; but Dolly and I are alone, or as near as possible. What is to become of Dolly, shut up here in smoke and fog? You should think of Dolly. I can stand it for myself."
"There'll be no want of people to think of Dolly."
"If they could see her; but they don't see her. How are they to see her?"
"I'll get you a place down in the country, if you like; out of the smoke."
"I should like it very much. But that will not help Dolly."
"Yes, it will; help her to keep fresh. I'll get her a pony."
"Mr. Copley, you will not answer me! I am talking of Dolly's prospects.
You do not seem to consider them."
"How old is Dolly?"
"Seventeen."
"Too young for prospects, my dear."
"Not too young for us to think about it, and take care that she does not miss them. Mr. Copley, do you know Dolly is very handsome?"
"She is better than that!" said Mr. Copley proudly. "I understand faces, if I don't prospects. There is not the like of Dolly to be seen in Hyde Park any day."
"Why don't you take her to ride in the Park then, and let her be seen?"
"Do you want her to marry an Englishman?"
Mrs. Copley was silent, and before she spoke again Dolly came in, ready for her expedition.
London was not quite to Dolly the disappointing thing her mother declared it. She was at an age to find pleasure in everything from which a fine sense could bring it out; and not being burdened with thoughts about "prospects," and finding her own and her mother's society always sufficient for herself, Dolly went gaily on from day to day, like a bee from flower to flower; sucking sweetness in each one.