"You've got your plans fixed?" Rupert next inquired. "Know just which way you are going? Be sure you are right, and then go ahead, you know."
"We take the boat to Rotterdam," said Dolly.
"Which way, then? Mr. Copley told me so much."
"I don't know," said Mrs. Copley. "If I could once get hold of Mr.
Copley we could soon settle it."
"What points do you want to make?"
"Points? I don't want to make any points. I don't know what you mean."
"I mean, where do you want to go in special, between here and Venice?
or are there no places you care about?"
"Places? Oh!--Well, yes, there are. I should like to see the place where the battle of Waterloo was fought."
"Mother, that would be out of our way," said Dolly.
"Which is our way?" said Mrs. Copley. "I thought we had not fixed it."
"You don't go up the Rhine, then?" said Rupert.
"I'm going nowhere by boat except where I can't help myself. I like to feel land under me. No, we are not going up the Rhine. I can see mountains enough in America, and rivers enough too."
Rupert had finished his supper, and took up an atlas he saw lying near.
"Rotterdam," he said, opening at the map of Central Europe,--"that is our one fixed point, that and Venice. Now, how to get from the one to the other."
Mrs. Copley changed her seat to come nearer the map; and an animated discussion followed, which kept her interested and happy the whole of the evening. Dolly saw it and was thankful. It was more satisfactory than the former consultation with St. Leger, who treated the subject from quite too high and lordly a point of view; referring to the best hotels and assuming the easiest ways of doing things; flinging money about him, in imagination, as Mrs. Copley said, as if it were coming out of a purse with no bottom to it; which to be sure might be very true so far as he was concerned, but much discomposed the poor woman who knew that on her part such pleasant freehandedness was not to be thought of. Rupert Babbage evidently did not think of it. He considered economy. Besides, he was not so distractingly _au fait_ in everything; Mrs. Copley could bear a part in the conversation. So she and Rupert meandered over the map, talked endlessly, took a vast deal of pleasure in the exercise, and grew quite accustomed to each other; while Dolly sat by, glad and yet chafing. Rupert certainly was a comfort, for the hour; but she wished he had never been thought of, nevertheless.
But he was a comfort next day again. Cheery and busy and efficient, he managed people, sent the luggage off, helped and waited upon Mrs.
Copley, and kept her quiet with his talk, up to the time when the third day they took their places in the coach.
"Really, Mr. Babbage, you are a very handy young man!" Mrs. Copley once had uttered her admiration; and Rupert laughed.
"I shouldn't think much of myself," he said, "if I couldn't do as much as that. You see, I consider that I'm promoted."
Dolly made the journey up to town in a state between relief and disgust. Rupert did take a world of trouble off her hands; but she said to herself that she did not want it taken off. And she certainly did not want this long-legged fellow attending upon them everywhere. It was better to have him than St. Leger; that was all you could say.
The days in London were few and busy. Mr. Copley during this interval was very affectionate, very kind and attentive; in fact, so attentive to supplying or providing against every possible want that he found little time to be with his family. He and Rupert were perpetually flying out and in, ordering this and searching for that; a sort of joyous bustle seemed to be the order of the day; for he carried it on gleefully.
"Why, Mr. Copley," his wife said, when he brought her an elegant little leather case for holding the tinctures and medicines in which she indulged, "I thought we must economise so hard? I thought you had no money now-a-days? How is this, and what does it mean? this case must have cost a pound."
"You are worth more than a pound, my dear," Mr. Copley said with a sort of semi-earnestness.
"But I thought you were so poor all of a sudden?"
"We are going to turn a new leaf, and live frugally; so you see, on the strength of that, we can afford to be extravagant now and then."
"That seems to me a very doubtful way, Mr. Copley," said his wife, shaking her head.
"Don't be doubtful, my dear. Whatever else you do, go straight to your mark, and don't be doubtful. Humming and hawing never get on with anything. Care killed a cat, my dear."
"It has almost killed me," said poor Mrs. Copley. "Are we out of need of care, Frank?"
"_You_ are. I'll take all the care for the family. My dear, we are going in for play, and Venice."
Dolly heard this, and felt a good deal cheered. What was her consternation, then, when the day of sailing came, and at the last minute, on board the packet, her father declared he must wait; he could not leave London yet for a week or two, but he could not let _them_ be delayed; he would let St. Leger go to look after them, and he would catch them up before they got to Venice. All this was said in a breath, in a rush and hurry, at the moment of taking leave; the luggage was on board, Rupert was looking after it, Mr. St. Leger's elegant figure was just stepping across the gangway; and Mr. Copley kissed and shook hands and was off, with a word to Lawrence as he passed, before Mrs. Copley or Dolly could throw in more than an exclamation of dismay to stop him.
Stop him! one might as well stop a gust of wind. Dolly saw he had planned it all; reckoned the minutes, got them off on purpose without himself, and _with_ Mr. St. Leger. And here was Mr. St. Leger to be spoken to; coming up with his assured step and his handsome, indolent blue eyes, to address her mother. St. Leger was a nice fellow; he was neither a fool nor a coxcomb; but the sight of him was very disagreeable to Dolly just then. She turned away, as full of vexation as she could hold, and went to Rupert's side, who was looking after the luggage.
"Do you want to see your berth right away?" he asked her.
"My berth?" said Dolly.
"Well, yes; your cabin--state-room--whatever you call it--where you are to sleep. You know which it is; do you know where it is? I always like to get such things straightened out, first thing. Would you like to see it?"
"Oh yes, please," said Dolly; and grasping one of the hand-bags she turned away gladly from the deck. Anything for a little respite and solitude, from Mr. St. Leger. Rupert found the place, stowed bags and wraps and rugs conveniently away, and made Dolly as much at home as she could be at five minutes' notice.
"How long will the passage take?" she asked.
"Well, if I knew what the weather would be, I would tell you. Shall you be sick?"
"I don't know," said Dolly. "I believe I wish I may. Mr. Babbage, are you a Christian?"
"Well, I ain't a heathen, anyhow," said he, laughing a little.
"No, but that isn't what I mean. Of course you are not a heathen. But I mean--do you serve the Lord Jesus, and do you love Him?"
Dolly had it not in mind to make a confidant of her new squire; but in the terrible confusion and trouble of her spirits she grasped at any possible help or stay. The excitement of the minute lifted her quite out of ordinary considerations; if Rupert was a Christian, he might be a stand-by to her, and anyhow would understand her. So she asked. But he looked at her and shook his head. The thought crossed him that he was _her_ servant, and her service was all that he was distinctly pledged to in his own mind. He shook his head.
"Then what do you do when you are in trouble?" she asked.
"Never been there," said Rupert. "Always find some way out, when I get into a fix. Why, are you in trouble?" he asked sympathetically.
"Oh," cried Dolly, "I am in trouble to death, because father hasn't come with us!" She could bear it no longer; even seventeen years old gives out sometimes; she burst into tears and sat down on a box and sobbed. All her hopes dashed to pieces; all her prospects dark and confused; nothing but disappointment and perplexity before her. What should she do with her mother, she alone? What should she do with Mr.
St. Leger? a still more vexatious question. And what would become of her father, left to himself, and at what possible time in the future might she hope that he would break away from his ties and temptations and come to rejoin his family? Dolly sobbed in sorrow and bitterness of heart. Rupert Babbage stood and looked on wofully; and then delicately went out and closed the door.
Dolly's tears did her good. I think it was a help to her too, to know that she had so efficient and faithful a servant in the despised Rupert Babbage. At any rate, after a half hour or so, she made her appearance on deck and met Mr. St. Leger with a calm apparent unconcern, which showed her again equal to the occasion. Circumstances were making a woman of Dolly fast.
Mr. St. Leger's talk had in the meantime quieted Mrs. Copley. He assured her that her husband would soon come after and catch up with them. Now he turned his attention to Dolly and Rupert.
"Who is that fellow?" he asked Dolly, when Rupert had left them for a minute.
"He is a young man in my father's office. Did you never see him there?"
"But what is he doing _here?_ We do not want him, it strikes me."
"He is very useful, and able."