Would she ever again forget the handsome face that had smiled so kindly upon her?
Surely he was a king among men, and he had praised her, said her name was like a song, and that she was like the Dora of the beautiful poem.

This grand gentleman, with the clear, handsome face and dainty white hands, actually admired her.
So Dora dreamed by the brook-side, and she was to see him again and again; she gave no thought to a cold, dark time when she should see him no more.

Tomorrow the sun would shine, the birds sing, and she should see him once again.
Dora never remembered how that happy day passed.

Good Mrs.Thorne looked at her child, and sighed to think how pretty she was and how soon that sweet, dimpled face would be worn with care.
Dora's first proceeding was characteristic enough.

She went to her own room and locked the door; then she put the cracked little mirror in the sunshine, and proceeded to examine her face.