Do you remember my sister Mrs. Elliott?"
The eager, upward glance of Dora's eyes, was a sufficient answer,
and he continued, "I saw her last week and talked with her of you.
She wishes you to come and live with her. Will you go?"
Dora could never tell why she cried, but the thought of living
with Mrs. Elliott, whom she regarded as an almost superior being,
overcame her, and she burst into tears, while Mr. Hastings looked
at her, quite uncertain as to what, under the circumstances, it
was proper for him to do. If his sister had never bothered him
with that strange question, he would have known exactly how to
act; but now in a state of perplexity, he sat motionless, until,
thinking he must do something, he said gently, "_Dora, my
child_" The last word removed his embarrassment entirely. She
_was a child_, and as such he would treat her. So he said
again," Dora, my child, why do you cry?" and Dora answered
impulsively, "It makes me so glad to think of living with Mrs.
Elliott, for you do not know how unhappy I have been since she
found me four years ago.
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