"I was coming—hindered always—I was coming, Dolly. How's your mother?"
Dolly made a great effort after voice and calmness.
"She is well—I mean, she is no worse than usual. Will you have your coffee, father?"
But Dolly's voice choked with a sob. Mr. Copley looked at her in a helpless kind of way and made no answer. Dolly rang the bell.
"How—a—how did you get here?" was the next question, put in evident embarrassment.
"You wouldn't come to Brierley, father; so I had to come to London. I came with a friend."
"St. Leger?"
"St. Leger! No, indeed. Oh, I came with a very nice friend, who took good care of me. Now, here's your breakfast."
Dolly was glad of the chance to get upon common everyday ground, till her breath should be free again. She helped arrange the dishes; dismissed the maid; poured out Mr. Copley's coffee and served him.
"Better take some yourself, Dolly. Had your breakfast? Let Mrs. Bunce do you another chop."