“Oh! were you there?  Wasn’t it glorious to be the very first?” exclaimed Dora; and, with no further preamble, the two plunged into a series of army reminiscences and gossip, that kept them busy until Karl entered the room, saying,—­

“Well, Dora, what do you think of Mr. Burroughs’s news?”

“She has not heard it yet,” said Mr. Burroughs, laughing a little.  “We have been so busy talking over our army experiences, that we have not come to business.”

“I am glad you have not; for I want to see how Dora will take it:  but you will be grieved, as well as pleased, little girl.”

“Yes,” pursued Mr. Burroughs.  “I am sorry to inform Miss Dora, that your friend Col.  Blank is dead.”

“Oh, Col.  Blank dead!” exclaimed Dora, while a sudden shadow fell upon her bright face.

“I am very, very sorry,” continued she.  “Mr. Brown went to see him two months ago, and he was quite well then.”

“Yes:  this was rather a sudden illness; a fever, I believe.  They tell me, that, since his wife died, he has never been very well, and at last was only ill three weeks.”

“I am so sorry!” said Dora again.  “He was very kind to me always.”

“And no doubt died with feelings of affection and confidence for you, Miss, Dora; since he has made you his heir.”

“Me!” exclaimed the young girl in a tone more of fright than of pleasure.

“Yes; and, although the property is not of any great available value at present, I think, if properly managed, it may, in the future, become something very handsome,” said the lawyer.

“But I am so sorry Col.  Blank is dead!  Why, on Cheat Mountain, he seemed so strong and well!  He was never tired on the marches, and hardly ever rode, but walked at the head of the column so straight and soldierly!”

The two men glanced at each other, then at her, and gravely smiled.  The regret was so unaffected, so unselfish, and so unworldly, that each, after his own fashion, admired and marvelled at it.  Mr. Burroughs was the first to speak; and, drawing a packet of papers from his pocket, he spread before Dora’s sorrowful eyes a copy of Col.  Blank’s will, a plan of the estate bequeathed by it to her, and an official letter from Mr. Ferrars, the principal executor.  This Mr. Ferrars, the lawyer informed his young client, was a personal friend of his own, and had placed the matter in his hands, thinking that the news might be more satisfactorily arranged by an interview than by correspondence.

“And, as I was coming East at the time, I could very conveniently call to see you on my way home,” concluded Mr. Burroughs.

“Thank you, sir,” said Dora meekly; and then, rather sadly, but very patiently, listened while the lawyer described the property she had inherited, and indicated the best course to pursue with regard to it.

“You will perceive, Miss Dora, that the bulk of the estate consists of this large tract of territory in Iowa, containing a great deal of valuable timber, a hundred or so common-sized farms of superb soil, and prairie-land enough to graze all the herds of the West.