"You have lovely eyes," she murmured. "I think after all you are almost
pretty. Perhaps I should grow to like you awfully. You are not a bit like
the doll I hoped to have; but that is not your fault." A thought made her
face brighten. "Why, if you had been a beautiful doll they would have taken
you away and sold you for rum." Her face expressed utter disgust. She
hugged Miranda close with a sudden outburst of affection. "Oh, you dear old
thing!" she cried. "I am so glad you are--just like this. I am so glad, for
now I can keep you always and always, and no one will want to take you away
from me."
She rocked to and fro, holding the doll tightly to her heart. Mary was not
one to feel a half-passion about anything. "I will make you some new
dresses," she said, fingering the old-fashioned silk with a puzzled air. "I
wonder why your mother dressed you so queerly? She was not much of a sewer
if she made this bonnet!" Scornfully she took off the primitive bonnet and
smoothed out the tangled hair. "I wonder what you have on underneath," she
said.
With gentle fingers she began to undress Miranda. Off came the green silk
dress with its tight "basque" and overskirt. Off came the ruffled petticoat
and little chemise edged with fine lace.
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