"From Mr. Brown?" asked Kitty quickly.
"No, from a Mr. Burroughs; a man I never heard of in my life till to-day. But come down in a few minutes, and I will read it to you."
"Well, don't read it till I come."
"No: I won't." And Dora quietly went out of the room, leaving Kitty to swing backward and forward in the white-cushioned rocking-chair, her dark eyes wandering half contemptuously, half enviously, over Dora's collection of treasures, with an occasional glance at the sleeping child.
CHAPTER XX.
A LETTER AND AN OFFER.
IN the kitchen, Dora found Karl waiting for her; and, while she eat her supper with the healthy relish of a young and vigorous creature, she gave her cousin an account of all the circumstances attending her meeting with the little girl, whom she described again as a foreigner, and probably French.
"And what's to be done with her, Dora?" asked the young man rather gravely, when she had finished.
"Why, when she is well enough to tell who she is, and where she came from,—that is, if she can talk English at all,—we can return her to her friends; or, if they are not to be discovered, I will keep her myself. That is,"-and the young girl paused suddenly, the blood rushing to her face, as she added,—" that is, if you and Kitty are willing. It is your house, not mine; though I'm afraid I am apt to forget."
Karl looked at her reproachfully.