She pulled away the shawl as she spoke, and showed to the young man, who now stood beside the carriage, the still inanimate form of the little waif at her feet.

“Phew!  What’s that? and where did you get it?”

“A little girl that I met; lost, I think.  I took her into the buggy, and then she fainted, and I laid her down,” rapidly explained Dora; adding, as she raised the little figure in her arms,—­

“Take her in, and lay her on the bed in the rosy-room.”

“Poor little thing!  She’s not dead, is she, Dora?” asked the young man softly, as he took the child in his arms and entered the house, followed by Dora.

“Oh, no!  I think not; only fainted.  I suppose there’s hot water, for a bath, in the kitchen.”

As she spoke, they entered the sitting-room,—­a cool, shady apartment, with a great beam crossing the ceilings, and deep recesses to the windows, with seats in them.

At the farther side, Dora threw open the door of a little bedroom, whose gay-papered walls and flowered chintz furniture, not to speak of a great sweet-brier bush tapping and scratching at the window, with all its thousand sharp little fingers, gave it a good right to be called the rosy-room.  Dora hastily drew away the bright counterpane, and nodded to Karl, who laid the little form he carried tenderly upon the bed.

At this moment, another door into the sitting-room opened; and a girl, somewhat older than Dora, put in her head, looked about for a moment, and then came curiously toward the door of the rosy-room.

“I thought I heard you, Dora,” said she.  “What are you doing in here?  Why!-who’s that?”

“O Kitty! can you warm a little of that broth we had for dinner, to give her?  She’s just starved, I really believe.  And is there any ammonia in the house?-smelling-salts, you know.  Didn’t aunt have some?” asked Dora rapidly.

“I believe so.  But where did you get this child?  Who is she?”

“Run, Kitty, and get the salts first.  We’ll tell you afterward.”

“What shall I do, Dora?” interposed the young man; and Kitty ran upon her errand, while Dora promptly replied,—­

“Open the window, and bring some cold water; and then a little wine or brandy, if we have any.”

“Enough for this time, at any rate,” said Karl, hurrying away, and returning with both water and wine just as Kitty appeared with the salts; but it was Dora who applied the remedies, and with a skill and steadiness that would have seemed absolutely marvellous to one unacquainted with the young girl’s previous history and training.

“She’s coming to herself.  You’d better both go out of sight, and let her see only me.  Kitty, will you look to the broth?” whispered Dora; and Karl, taking his sister by the sleeve, led her out, softly closing the door after them.

“Dora does like to manage, I must say.  Now, do tell me at last who this child is, and where she came from, and what’s going to be done with her,” said Kitty as they reached the kitchen.  “Why shouldn’t she like to manage, when she can do it so well?  I can tell you, Miss Kitty, if she hadn’t man aged to some purpose on one occasion, you wouldn’t have had a brother to-day to plague you.”