"I am sure we shall return home immediately after breakfast."
"Before breakfast then? Why not?"
This plan went into effect. It was an occasion of great pleasure to both parties. No better time could be for seeing the utmost beauty of the flowers; and Dolly wandered in what was to her a wilderness of an enchanted land. Breakfast was forgotten; and young St. Leger was so charmed with this perfectly fresh, simple, and lively nature, that he for his part was willing to forget it indefinitely. Dolly's utter delight, and her intelligent, quick apprehension, the sparkle in her eye, the happy colour in her cheeks, made her to his fancy the rarest thing he had ever seen. The gardener, who was summoned to give information of which his young master was not possessed, entertained quite the same opinion; and thanks to his admiring gratification Dolly went back to the house the possessor of a most superb bouquet, which he had cut for her and offered through Mr. St. Leger.
There were some significant half smiles around the breakfast table, as the young pair and the flowers made their appearance. St. Leger braved them; Dolly did not see them. Her sweet eyes were full of the blissful enchantment still. Immediately after breakfast, as she had said, her father took leave.
Mrs. Copley had awaited their coming in a mood half irritation, half gratification. The latter conquered when she saw Dolly.
"Now tell me all about it!" she said, before Dolly even could take off her bonnet.
"She went to the races," said Mr. Copley.
"That's a queer place for Dolly to go, Mr. Copley."
"Not at all. Everybody goes that can go."
"I think it's a queer place for young ladies to go," persisted the mother.