"Do not people grow careless, in the interest and excitement of the play?"
St. Leger hesitated, and laughed a little, casting up his blue eyes at Dolly as if she were a very peculiar specimen of young womanhood and he were not quite sure how to answer her.
"I assure you," he said, "there is nothing that you need be concerned about. I am certain there is not."
"Not if my father is concerned about it already?"
"He is not concerned, I am sure. Oh, well! there may be a little temporary embarrassment—that can happen to any man, who is not made of gold—but it will be all right. Now, Miss Copley"——
She put out her hand to stop him.
"Mr. St. Leger, can you do nothing to help? You are kind, I know; you have always been kind to us; can you do nothing to help now?"
The young man rather opened his eyes. Was this asking him for an advance? It was a very cool proceeding in that case. "Help?" he repeated doubtfully. "What sort?"
"There is only one way that you could help," said Dolly.
He saw she meant what she meant, if he could know what that was; her cheeks had even grown pale; the sweet, clear brown eyes sought his face as if they would reach his heart, which they did; but then,—to assume any of Mr. Copley's responsibilities—