"When I brought you here, Dora Darling, I brought you home; and when my mother died, not yet a year ago, did she not bid us live together as brother and sisters, in love and harmony?"
"Yes; but"—
"But what, Dora?"
"I am afraid sometimes I behave too much as if it were my own house," faltered Dora.
"And so it is your own house, just as it is my own and Kitty's own. Have either of us ever made you feel that there was any difference, or that you had less right here than we?"
Dora made no reply; and, while Karl still waited for one the staircase-door opened softly, and Kitty appeared.
"The child is fast asleep," said she: "so I thought I would come down and hear the letter."
"What letter?" asked Karl a little impatiently.
"Oh! I haven't told you. Here it is."
And Dora drew from her pocket, and held toward him, a large white envelope, boldly directed to "Miss DORA DARLING, care of Capt. Charles Windsor"