Dora Deane; Or, The East India Uncle

r, and in that time she has somewhat changed. The merry-hearted girl, who, until a few weeks before her mother's death, was happier far than many a favored chi

as if to ask forgiveness for the injustice done her by the selfish Eugenia, whose only excuse for her extravagance was, that "no one in her right mind need to think of bringing back any money from New York." And Dora, from her seat on a little

thought, "for she will not be s

perhaps, seemed to take delight in annoying her sensitive cousin, constantly taunting her with her dependence upon them, and asking her sometimes how she expected to repay the debt of gratitude she owed them. Many and many a night had the orphan wept herself to

ed, was finally carried into effect; and one Saturday night, Mrs. Deane was startled by the announcement that

u. I can do almost as much as Bridget, and you won't

with a portion of the remaining one hundred and fifty doll

I wonder how you happen

would do, and how hard she would try to please her aunt, who quieted her own conscien

erence which Bridget's absence made in her weekly expenses. Then, too, Dora was so willing to work, and so uncomplaining, never seeking

fortless kitchen, until her hands, which, when she came to Locust Grove, were soft and white as those of an infant, became rough and bro

o; and with the earliest dawn the busy creature was up, working like a bee, that her aunt and cousins might not have so much to do in her absence. At first she went regularly, but after a time it became very convenient to

her books, sometimes by the dim light of a lamp, and again by the light of the full moon, whose rays seemed to fall around her more brightly than elsewhere. It was on one of these occasions, when tracing upon her map the boundary lines

I presume," said Eugenia, who wo

in reply, thanking her uncle again and again for his generous gift, which she said "was very acceptable, for ma was rather poor, and it would aid her materially in providing for the wants of Dora," wh

monly dull, and would never make much of a woman, do what they might for her! With a sigh, and a feeling of keen

she resolved to write and to tell him of her mother's dying words-tell him how much she loved him, bec

from her head, as she lay in her coffin, and which now held a place in the large square trunk. "I will send him a lock of that," she said; and kneeling reverently by the old green trunk, the shrine where she nightly said her praye

Dora applied for an envelope, unhesitatingly showing what she had written, knew better than to send that note across the sea, and feigning the utmost astonishment, she said: "I am sur

pposed he'd fancy such a thing as that," a

following it up. "You can do as you like, but my advice is that you do not

, Dora went back to her chamber, hiding the let

same kind. Now I am perfectly willing that Uncle Nat should divide his fortune between us and Dora, but unfortunately he is a one idea man, and should he conceive a fancy for our cousin, our hopes are blasted forever; so I don't propose letting him do any such thing. Mother has given up the correspondenc

h her mind, resulting at last in an increased kindness of manner on her part towards her young cousin, who was frequently relieved of duties which woul

, containing the promised check, which Eugenia held

me letter, which I may answer at some future t

letter?" exclaimed Dora, Who had been sitting unobserved behind the stove,

"Yes, I wrote to him, and of course, mentioned yo

persisted Dora. "Does

ovided she was kept in ignorance of the object for which it was sent, she replied, carelessly, "Oh that's not

wish that any of the money should be expended for herself, she replied, "Oh, I am so glad,

ide the expression of her face; but when, a few days afterwards, she was herself presented with a handsome merino, which both Eugenia and Alice volunteered to make, she thought there was not in Dunwood a happier child than herself. In

ldish prayer was ans