"Let them grow like any one else, but never like me!" They soothed her with gentle, loving words.

Her father said she should share his home with her children, and he would never give her up again.
They bade her watch the little ones, who had forgotten their fears, and laughed over the ripe fruit and golden honey.

They also drew aside the white curtain, and let her tired eyes fall upon the sweet summer beauty of earth and sky.

Was not everything peaceful?
The sun sinking in the west, the birds singing their evening song, the flowers closing their bright eyes, the wind whispering "good night" to the shimmering, graceful elms--all was peace, and the hot, angry heart grew calm and still.

Bitter tears rose to the burning eyes--tears that fell like rain, and seemed to take away the sharpest sting of her pain.
With wise and tender thought they let Dora weep undisturbed.