Dora Deane | Page 9

_God help thee, Dora Deane!_
-----------

CHAPTER IV.
DORA'S NEW HOME.
One year has passed away since the night when, cold, weary and
forlorn, Dora followed her cousins up the graveled walk which led to
her new home. One whole year, 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 child of wealth,
has become a sober, quiet, self-reliant child, performing without a,
word of complaint the many duties which have gradually been imposed
upon her.
From her aunt she had received a comparatively welcome greeting, and
when Eugenia displayed her purchases, which had swallowed up the
entire three hundred and fifty dollars, Mrs. Deane had laid her hand on
the little girl's soft, auburn hair, 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 stool behind the stove, understood nothing, thought of nothing,
except that Eugenia looked beautifully in her velvet cloak and furs, and
that her aunt must be very rich, to afford so many handsome articles of
furniture as the parlor contained.
"And I am glad that she is," she thought," for she will not be so likely
to think me in the way."
As time passed on, however, Dora, who was a close observer, began to
see things in their true light, and her life was far from being happy. By
her cousin Alice she was treated with a tolerable degree of kindness,
while Eugenia, without any really evil intention, 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 sleep, in the low, scantily
furnished chamber which had been assigned her; and she was glad
when at last an opportunity was presented for her to be in a measure out
of Eugenia's way, and at the same time feel that she doing something
towards earning her living.
The oft-repeated threat of Bridget's mother that her daughter should be
removed, unless her wages were increased, was finally carried into
effect; and one Saturday night, Mrs. Deane was startled by the
announcement that Bridget was going to leave. In a moment, Dora's
resolution was taken, and coming to her aunt's side, she said:
"Don't hire another girl, Aunt Sarah. Let me help you. I can do almost
as much as Bridget, and you won't have to pay me either. I shall only
be paying you."
Unclasping the handsome bracelet which had been purchased with a
portion of the remaining one hundred and fifty dollars, Eugenia, ere her
mother had time to reply, exclaimed:
"That is a capital idea! I wonder how you happened to be so
thoughtful."

And so it was decided that Dora should take Bridget's place, she
thinking how much she would do, and how hard she would try to please
her aunt, who quieted her own conscience by saying "it was only a
temporary arrangement until she could find another servant."
But as the days went by, the temporary arrangement bid fair to become
permanent, for Mrs. Deane could not be insensible to the vast
difference which Bridget's absence made in her weekly expenses. Then,
too, Dora was so willing to work, and so uncomplaining, never seeking
a word of commendation, except once, indeed, when she timidly
ventured to ask Eugenia if "what she did was enough to pay for her
board?"
"Just about," was Eugenia's answer, which, indifferent as it was,
cheered the heart of Dora, as, day after day, she toiled on in the
comfortless kitchen, until her hands, which, when she came to Locust
Grove, were soft and white as those of an infant, became rough and
brown, and her face gradually assumed the same dark hue, for she
could not always stop to tie on her sunbonnet, when sent for wood or
water.
With the coming of summer, arrangements had been made for sending
her to school, though Mrs. Deane felt at first as if she could not be
deprived of her services. Still for appearance' sake, if for nothing more,
she must go; 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 detain her at home, for at least two days in every
week, and