Stella got on capitally with Dora. Dora admired her cousin, and being two years her junior was rather impressed by her superior abilities. Stella never tired of telling Dora about London, and the grand people her mother had known, their fine dresses, and beautiful homes. All this seemed very wonderful to the little country girl, and when one day Stella turned out the contents of her boxes, and exhibited all her gay frocks, Dora's admiration knew no bounds.
"Oh, Stella," she cried, "how nice to be rich! Oh, how I wish I had a lot of money!"
"I'll give you some when I'm grown up, Dora. Do you know that I shall be very rich some day? I shall really. And then, Dora, I'll give you some money."
"Oh, thank you, Stella, that will be kind of you. I shall buy some nice presents for mother."
"What?" asked Stella curiously.
"Oh! lots of things. To begin with, she shall have a new set of furniture for her room, and a new carpet."
"But, Dora, why doesn't your father get those things for her? Mother had everything the very best about the house."
"Yes, I daresay; your mother was rich, I know. Father is not well off at all."
"That's a pity. Mother had everything she wanted. If she thought she'd like anything, she used to go and buy it at once, and yet she was as cross as two sticks. The servants hated her."
"Oh, Stella!"