Stretching out her white, wasted
hand, she said, "And you are _Dora._ I am glad you have come.
The sight of you makes me feel better already," and the small,
rough hand she held was pressed with a fervor which showed that
she was sincere in what she said. It was strange how fast they
grew to liking each other--those two children--for in everything
save years, Ella was younger far than Dora Deane; and it was
strange, too, what a change the little girl's presence wrought in
the sick-chamber. Naturally neat and orderly, she could not sit
quietly down in the midst of disorder, and as far as she was able,
she put things in their proper places; then, as her quick-seeing
eye detected piles of dust which for days had been unmolested, she
said, "Will it disturb you if I sweep?"
"Not at all. Do what you like," answered Ella, her own spirits
rising in proportion as the appearance of her surroundings was
improved.
Everything was in order at last. The carpet was swept, the
furniture dusted, the chairs emptied, the curtains looped back,
and the hearth nicely washed.
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