Dora Deane; Or, The East India Uncle

by Mary Jane Holmes

In the first surprise of meeting him she had forgotten everything, save that he had returned to them in safety, and her manner towards him then was perfectly natural; but now when Uncle Nat, after telling what he did, bade her go to him, she quitted the room reluctantly, and much as she wished to see him, she would undoubtedly have run away upstairs, had she not met him in the hall, together with Mrs. Elliott, who was going to pay her respects to Uncle Nat.

"I have not spoken with you yet, Dora," he said, taking her hand between both his. "Go in there," motioning to the room he had just left, "and wait until I present Louise to your uncle."

It was a habit of Dora's always to cry just when she wished to least, and now entering the little music room, she threw herself upon the sofa and burst into tears. Thus Mr. Hastings found her on his return, and sitting down by her side, he said gently, "Are you, then, so glad that I have come home?"

Dora would not, for the world, let him know her real feelings, and she answered, "Yes, I am glad, but I am crying at what Uncle Nat said to me."

Mr. Hastings bit his lip, for this was not exactly the kind of meeting he had anticipated, and after sitting an awkward moment, during which he was wishing that she had not answered him as she did, he said: "Will you not look up, Dora, and tell me how you have passed the time of my absence? I am sure you have improved it both from your own appearance and what Louise has told me."

This was a subject on which Dora felt that she could trust herself, and drying her tears, she became very animated as she told him of the books she had read, and the studies she had pursued. "I have taken music lessons, too," she added. "Would you like to hear me play?"

Mr. Hastings would far rather have sat there, watching her bright face, with his arm thrown lightly around her waist, but it was this very act, this touch of his arm, which prompted her proposal, and gracefully disengaging herself she crossed over to the piano, which was standing in the room, and commenced singing the old, and on that occasion very appropriate, song of "Home again, home again, from a foreign shore." The tones of her voice were rich and full, and they reached the ear of Uncle Nat, who in his eagerness to listen, forgot everything, until Mrs. Elliott said, "It is Dora singing to my brother. Shall we join them?"

Leading the way she ushered him into the music room, where, standing at Dora's side, he listened rapturously to her singing, occasionally wiping away a tear, called forth by the memories that song had awakened. The sight of the piano reminded him of Eugenia, and when Dora had finished playing, he laid his broad hand upon her shoulder and said, "Do you ever hear from them—the villains?"

Dora knew to whom he referred, and half laughing at his excited manner, she replied, as she stole a mischievous glance towards Mr. Hastings, "I received a letter from Eugenia not long since, and she seemed very anxious to know in what part of Europe Mr. Hastings was now traveling, and if he were ever coming home!"

"Much good his coming home will do her, the trollop!" muttered Uncle Nat, whispering incoherently to himself as he generally did, when Eugenia was the subject of his thoughts. "Don't answer the letter," he said at last, "or, if you do, say nothing of me; I wish to meet them first as a stranger."