"Oh, what will become of me?" she groaned, as the door closed upon
her late nurse. "Do, pray, Howard, go to the kitchen and get me
some--some--_I don't know what,_ but get me _something!_"
With a very vague idea as to what he was to get or to do, Mr.
Hastings left the room just as it was entered by Eugenia, to whom
Ella detailed her grievances. "Her head ached dreadfully, Howard
was cross, and her nurse gone. Oh, Eugenia!" she cried, "what
shall I do? I wish I could die. Don't ever get married. What shall
I do?"
And hiding her face in the pillow, poor Ella sobbed bitterly. For
a time Eugenia stood, revolving the propriety of offering Dora as
a substitute in the place of the girl who had just left. "Mother
can work a little harder," she thought. "And Alice can help her
occasionally. It will please Mr. Hastings, I know. Poor man, _I
pity him!_"
So, more on account of the _pity_ she felt for Mr. Hastings,
than for the _love_ she bore his wife, she said at last, "We
have a little girl at our house, who is very capable for one of
her years.
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