She's a regular little fuss-bunch about such
things."
"Very strange, when you and I are so fond of being ridiculed and
laughed at!" remarked Karl gravely; and Sunshine whispered,--
"Am I a fuss-bunch, Dora?"
Dora did not answer, except by a little pat upon the child's rosy
cheek, as she exclaimed,--
"Here we are! Look, Kitty! that is home; and we must bid each other
welcome, since there is no one to do it for us both except
Mehitable, and I don't believe she will think of it."
"Well, I must say, Dora, you've got things to going a great deal
better than I should expect," said Kitty graciously, as she looked
about her. "Why, that sweetbrier beside the door, and the white rose
the other side, are just like ours at home; and the woodbine growing
up the corner too!"
"They came from the old home, every one of them," said Dora, smiling
happily. "I wrote in the spring, and asked Mr. Burroughs to be so
kind as to ask whoever lives in the house to take up a little root
of each of the roses, and send them to me by express. You know he
said, when we left, that we should have any thing we liked from the
place, then or afterwards. So he wrote such a pleasant note, and
said he had sold the house to a cousin of his, a Mr. Legrange, who
had made a present of it to his wife; but I could have the slips all
the same: and next day, to be sure, they came, all nicely packed in
matting, and some other plants with them.
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