d cosey I almost envy you," she added,
dusting the top of the clock with a tiny feather duster.

"Louise Hazeltine, how could you envy anybody?" Dora exclaimed. "There
are two things I ought to have, and mean to sometime," she went on,
"and they are some plants and a canary."

Louise looked out of the window to hide a smile.

One more peep had to be taken at the other room, where two snowy beds
looked restful and inviting; then she locked the doors, leaving the
key with Mrs. Smith that the fires might be made in the morning.

"I hope you will like it, Mamma," were her last words that night and
her first thought next morning.

Mr. Hazeltine sent his carriage for Mrs. Warner, and short as the
drive was it seemed tiresomely long to Dora.

"I am glad it is pleasant so that the sunshine will be in your
windows; it is always there by eleven o'clock," she said.

Mrs. Smith was at the door to welcome them, with her small son Tommy
to carry up any bundles.

"I declare," she remarked to her husband, "it doesn't look right for a
woman that has a daughter like Miss Dora to be so terrible
down-hearted."

In her eagerness to see how her mother was pleased, Dora hardly
noticed anything herself when she opened the door.

A more hopelessly gloomy person than Mrs. Warner could not have failed
to be impressed with the sweet, cheerful comfort which pervaded the
room. The sunshine from the south windows lay in two great patches on
the quiet carpet, and glistened in a corner of something that did not
look quite familiar; the fire burned briskly, doing its best to add to
the cheeriness.

"My dear daughter, how could you do all this?" she asked, her face
brightening.

"Do you like it? I am so glad!" Then Dora began to look about in some
bewilderment; something had certainly happened to the room since
yesterday. In the corner by the fireplace was the dearest mahogany
desk, and on it a card which read, "For a brave little girl, from
Uncle William." Glancing up, her eyes rested on the sweet face of a
Madonna, which she guessed at once came from Aunt Zelie.

"How good they are to me!'" she exclaimed, feeling almost like
crying; but just then the canary in the window burst into a song, thus
calling attention to himself and to the pot of ivy from Miss Brown.

It was a morning of surprises. While her mother sat in her easy-chair,
with a more cheerful face than she had worn for years, Dora went about
finding every now and then someth