Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1881-10-13
DORA DE ANE.
BY JENNY WREN.

She was 80, and the prefix which
would indicate her a married woman
was still wanting from her name. Yet
there were no lines of disappointment
about Dora Deane's mouth; no troubled
expression in the clear gray eyes. Yet
she looked woman to love and be be-
loved She was not beautiful, but peO-
pie had always called her a pretty girl.
They called her so still tsO youthful was
the graceful figure and mobile face),
until they stopped to reckon on their
fingers and discovered the term "WO-
man" was more appropriate. There
was about her too, a certain distinctive
charm-a something which made stran-
gers turn again as she passed them by
for a second glance. She was neither
belle nor beauty. She could have mar
ried several times, but-perhaps be-
cause she felt that love was one of the
essentials lacking, perhaps because the
ideal was not attained-shG remained
Dora Deane still Thus the gossips rea-
soned. Pry as they would, they could
discover no early disappointment, no
hidden romance, IN all the years she
had lived among them. Yet, peeping
over her shoulder, as is our privilege,
noting the delicate flush upon her
cheek, the light in her eye, the trem-
bling of the little hand which held q
letter written in firm, bold characters,
they might have seized upon Il clue we
are too generous to fasten or follow.
The words she had perused were these:
"The fever has broken out again quite hotly
With nd I he
the pure air. May l drive her out and leave her
tor fortnight My messenger will wait for your
answer. Ronald RAY
'Of course she might come" thought
Miss Deane.
Dear Little Cara ! Dr. Ray was her
guardian She had been left to his
care when little child of three years.
She must be eighteen now. For six
years she had been at school. Now she
had returned to her guardians home,
to remain until some one stole her
away to grace another. But she was
still child That was but 81 remote
possibility for the distant future.
Roland Ray was physician in the
great city in one of whose suburbs
was Miss Deans beautiful home. How
many years she had known him. He
had even come to her first, IN that long
ago time, to tell her the story of the
child confined to his care.
She had been but seventeen herself
then, he six years her senior. They
had been friends always, but lately she
had seen more of him than his usual
wont. He had talked with her of Cara :
home-coming-Of the plans he had ma
tured for heI amusement-lf the pleas
ure his mother would experience IN
having her bright yOl ng presence con.
stantly near her; and he had listened,
as she always listen6u when Roland
Ray talked, listened with a beating
heart and tieeting color. But it had
never betrayed her secret even to him.
She had scarce acknowledged it to her-
self She only knew that other men
might come and so, but were all power
less, even by the most passionate pro
testations of devotion, to waken that
called forth by his simplest word.
But lately he had been different.
There had been light in his eyes like
that within her own-a suppressed eX-
element in his manner totally at vari-
ance with his usual claim. And now
from his legion of friends he mad
chosen her home where his ward might
be guest.
Her thoughts were very busy as she
made her preparations to receive her
visitor. With her own hands she gather
ed aud arranged the flowers that were
10 welcome her in the pretty room she
had assigned her, adjoining her own.
In the dusk of the evening the sound
Of wheels announced their coming.
Dear Miss Doraw exclaimed a sweet
girlish voice, as some one sprang from
the carriage, ere the Doctor could
aight to assist her at is all nonsense
Ronald's sending me away from home!
But so long as he insisted on it | am so
glad it is here! We shall have nice
times here together-thati is, if you have
not forgotten me-"
And she impulsively threw her arms
about the elder woman'S neck.
There was Il charm-a winsomeness
about her impossible to resist. Dora
Deane felt her heart go out toward her
anew, as it had done when. tiny gold
en-haired child, she had climbed upon
her knee and had fallen asleep Graded
in her arms.
Not until they had all gone in togeth-
er into the lighted drawing-room did
she discover how fully the childs
promise of rare beauty had redeemed
itself
But the light was less merciless else
where. 1t showed the physicians face
pale and carewOrn, and bearing traces
of overwork and lack of sleep. Dora
found a moment during Cara's gay
prattle to lay her hand upon his sleeve.
Take care Of yourself" she half
whispered. Il fear you forgot that in
your care for others. You are not
looking we'll"
"Nonsensen' he laughed. The idea
of a doctor not being able to take care
of himself! 1t is like the cook allowing
herself to starve. You would almost
persuade my patients, Miss Dora, to
lose faith in me, which reminds me
that L am losing precious time and
must be off. A thousand thanks for
receiving this child! | shall see you as
often as possible, and shall have a dou-
bic inducemement in coming"
Was it all fancy that his voice was
lower as he uttered this last sentence?
and was it all unconscious, the pressure