A young man, lounging upon the doorstep, started to his feet as the
wagon came dashing up the lane, and was going to open the gate of
the barn-yard; but Dora stopped before the open door, and called to
him,--
"Karl! Come here, please."
"Certainly. I was running out of the way for fear of being ground to
powder beneath your chariot-wheels; for I said to myself, 'Surely
the driving is as the driving of Jehu, the son of Nimshi.'"
"I shouldn't have driven so fast; but-see here!"
She pulled away the shawl as she spoke, and showed to the young man,
who now stood beside the carriage, the still inanimate form of the
little waif at her feet.
"Phew! What's that? and where did you get it?"
"A little girl that I met; lost, I think. I took her into the buggy,
and then she fainted, and I laid her down," rapidly explained Dora;
adding, as she raised the little figure in her arms,--
"Take her in, and lay her on the bed in the rosy-room."
"Poor little thing! She's not dead, is she, Dora?" asked the young
man softly, as he took the child in his arms and entered the house,
followed by Dora.
"Oh, no! I think not; only fainted. I suppose there's hot water, for
a bath, in the kitchen."
As she spoke, they entered the sitting-room,--a cool, shady
apartment, with a great beam crossing the ceilings, and deep
recesses to the windows, with seats in them.
Pages:
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132