"What is it, darling?" he asked, advancing towards her; and laying
her aching head upon his bosom, she told him of her loss, and how
much she missed the little brown-faced girl, who had been so kind
to her.
And Howard Hastings missed her too--missed the tones of her gentle
voice, the soft tread of her busy feet, and more than all, missed
the sunlight of comfort she had shed over his home. The baby
missed her, too; for over her Dora had acquired an almost mesmeric
influence, and until midnight her wailing cry smote painfully upon
the ear of the father, who, before the morning dawned, had
concluded that Rose Hill was nothing without Dora Deane. "She
shall come back, too," he said, and the sooner to effect this, he
started immediately after breakfast for the house of Mrs. Deane.
Very joyfully the deep blue eyes of Dora, who met him at the door,
looked up into his, and her bright face flushed with delight when
he told her why he had come. Both Eugenia and her mother were
convalescent, and sitting by the parlor fire, the one in a
shilling calico, and the other in a plaid silk morning gown.
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