CHAPTER II.

LOLLA IN DORCHESTER.

"NOW, Lolla, can I trust you to run about by yourself for a while?" asked Aunt Delight, when breakfast was done and family prayers were over.

"I don't exactly know what you mean, aunt," said Lolla.

"Can I trust you not to pick the flowers, or tread upon the flower-beds, or meddle with what does not belong to you? If so, you may go where you like about the house and garden; but you must not go outside the gate unless I give you leave. I suppose you will be like a kitten brought into a strange house: you will like to make acquaintance with every thing about you."

"I won't meddle with any thing," said Lolla. "But why may I not go into the street, Aunt Delight?"

"For this reason, among others: that you might easily get lost, and it would not perhaps be so easy to find you again."

"May I go down to the gate and look-out?" asked Lolla.

"Yes, if you do not go outside. By-and-by we will begin some lessons; for it will not do to play all the time. But to-day I am going to be busy about the house all the morning: so you will know where to find me if you want me."

Lolla was pleased with the permission to go where she liked,—and pleased, too, with being trusted. She spent an hour or two very pleasantly in exploring the garden and greenhouses, and going about the house, where there seemed so many pictures, and books, and curious boxes, and china vases, and pots, and bowls. One pair of vases, which stood in the hall, especially excited her curiosity, they were so very large. They were nearly as tall as herself; she thought she could have got into one of them easily,—and had covers, which fastened with large metal hinges and hasps.

Then she put on her hat again and went down to the gate, where she saw a little boy mounted on a Shetland pony not much larger than her father's great Newfoundland dog, and a girl driving a little donkey in a low wagon, and some cows in a field opposite, each with a thin blanket on to keep off the flies, and each one tethered to a stake by a long rope.

"Well," thought Lolla, "they seem to take a great deal of care of their cows; but if I were a cow, I should rather be running about on the prairie than be tied up in that way."

Just then she heard a church-clock strike eleven, and she remembered that it was more than two hours since she had had any thing to eat: so she sauntered slowly to the house, and went in at the back door.

She found Aunt Delight in her neat little store-room, surrounded by shelves full of preserves and canned fruit, stone jars which reminded one of pickles and cake, bunches of sweet and medicinal herbs, and bottles and jugs of all shapes and sizes.

"Please, aunt," said Lolla, "I want something to eat."

"Do you?" said Aunt Delight. "For what?"

Lolla smiled at the oddness of the question.

"Because I am hungry, aunt."

"Are you sure it is because you are hungry, or because you are used to eating just about this time? But never mind. Go to Sarah, in the kitchen, and ask her to give you a piece of bread-and-butter."

"I don't like bread-and-butter very much," said Lolla. "Nurse used to give me a piece of cake."

"I don't like little girls to be always eating sweet things," said Aunt Delight. "It is bad for their teeth and for their health. If you are really hungry, bread-and-butter will taste good to you. If you are not hungry, you do not want any thing."

"Mother lets me have cake," persisted Lolla; "and I guess she knows what is good for me as well as anybody."

"See here, Lolla," said Aunt Delight, sitting down, and drawing the little girl to her side: "I cannot have any argument with you about these things. Your mother has trusted you to me, to be taken care of and treated as I think best. She knows all about my ways of management,—because I brought her up till she was fourteen years old; and she knows I intend to do as I think right with you. When I tell you to do a thing, I do not expect you to tell me what somebody else does or thinks, but to be governed by what I think. Now go and get your bread-and-butter, if you want it; and if not, let it alone."

"I don't want it," said Lolla, with an air of disgust. "I haven't any appetite for such things."

"Very well," said Aunt Delight, smiling. "I dare say you will find your appetite by dinner-time. Do you want to go and play, or would you rather stay and help me? I am going to take my Indian curiosities out of the cabinet and dust them."

Lolla did not exactly know what to do. She felt very much abused, and a good deal like sulking about it; but, then, she wanted to see the curiosities, and she had, besides, a feeling that sulking was not likely to answer a very good purpose: so she slowly followed Aunt Delight into the parlour, which was across the hall from the breakfast-room. She had peeped in before, but the blinds were closed and the curtains down, so that she could not see any thing.

Aunt Delight drew up the curtains and opened the shutters.

"What a pretty room!" exclaimed Lolla. "I do think, aunt, you have the most beautiful things! I don't see where you got so many splendid vases."

"They have been accumulating for a long time," said Aunt Delight. "Some of our family have been in the India trade ever since there has been any India trade in Boston; and they are always bringing home things. See, here is my India cabinet."

"A real India cabinet, just like the one in Rosamund!" exclaimed Lolla, forgetting all about the bread-and-butter question at once. "Are there any branches of coral in it?"

"We shall see," said Aunt Delight, unlocking the little drawers. "There is no telling what we may find."

No telling, indeed. What wonderful things there were in that cabinet! Shells and corals, curious gold and silver coins, butterflies and beetles looking as if made of jewels, little boxes and balls carved with figures, pictures upon rice-paper of birds and flowers and Chinese men and women. I could not begin to tell you half the things there were in that cabinet. Aunt Delight took them out and handed them to Lolla, who laid them carefully on the table set to receive them.

Every article had a story to it, and Aunt Delight was ready to answer all Lolla's questions. She gave the little girl a number of pretty things for her own, and a beautiful little Japan work-box in the shape of a cabinet, covered with gilded figures of cranes flying and perching, and having drawers lined with a sweet-scented wood, which Aunt Delight said was sandal-wood.

"There! We have made a good morning's work," said Aunt Delight, as she closed the last drawer. "Now put away the dust-pan and brush in the back entry, and, as you come back, look at the clock and tell me what time it is."

"Why, aunt, it only wants a quarter of one!" exclaimed Lolla, in great surprise. "And Sarah has set the table. She says dinner will be ready in a quarter of an hour. I did not think it was nearly dinner-time: did you?"

Aunt Delight smiled. "You will just have time to wash your hands and brush your hair nicely. Run upstairs, and don't waste any time."

Lolla thought every thing tasted unusually good at dinner. She thought the air of Dorchester must make people very hungry. She had not cared any thing about roast beef and mashed potatoes for a long time, and seldom ate any meat at dinner when she was at home.

Mr. Locke was at dinner. He was a pale, thin, delicate-looking young gentleman, who wore spectacles and ate very little; but he was pleasant and kind in his manners, and Lolla thought she should like him very much. She wondered how he came to be living with Aunt Delight, and thought she would ask by-and by.

"Are you going to feel well enough to give some time to this little girl lessons, Mr. Locke?" asked Aunt Delight.

"Certainly," replied Mr. Locke, smiling kindly upon Lolla. "When shall we begin?"

"After a day or two. She will need a little time to run about and get used to her new home. Next week, I think, we will look up some school-books, and see what we can do."

Lolla looked rather alarmed at the idea of lessons.

"My mother never lets me go to school," said she; "I have the headache so much."

"No one has said any thing about your going to school," returned Aunt Delight, dryly. "As to your headaches, I think they will be better after a while. You are growing a great girl, and cannot afford to waste all your time. Will you have some pudding?"

For the next week Lolla did nothing but amuse herself. She played about the yard and garden, read story-books, looked at pictures, and, in short, did what she liked. Twice she went into Boston on the horse-cars with her aunt; and on one of these occasions they went into a shop and had some ice-cream, to Lolla's great satisfaction.

"Won't you buy me some candy, Aunt Delight?" said she, as they passed through the shop.

"Not to-day," replied Aunt Delight. "A saucer of ice-cream does very well for once, I think."

"Father used always to buy me candy when we went into town," murmured Lolla.

"My dear child, how much you do think about eating!" said Aunt Delight. "Seems to me I would try to find pleasure in other things, if I were you. Candy is very unsuitable for you now, and, besides, it is a very bad habit to fall into, that of thinking you must always have something to munch, like one of the little guinea-pigs we saw just now."

"Oh, dear," said Lolla to herself, "how I do want some candy!"