mrs. darling was dining from home, and every heart in her little establishment rejoiced over the circumstance, for it meant less work for everybody, with an opportunity to enjoy christmas eve on his own account.

mrs. bonnet, the lady's-maid, with the plans she had in mind for the evening, was scarcely annoyed at all when her mistress scolded because the corset-lace had got itself in a knot.

the chamber was full of a delicate odor of iris. the gas-globes at the ends of their jointed gold arms looked like splendid yellow pearls; on the dressing-table under them glittered a quantity of highly embossed silverware, out of all reasonable proportion with the little person owning it, who sat before[2] the mirror beautifying her finger-nails while mrs. bonnet did her hair.

"mind what you are about," the mistress murmured, diligently polishing.

mrs. bonnet instantly removed the hot tongs from the tress she was twisting, and caught it again with greater precaution.

"mind what you are about," warned mrs. darling, somewhat louder, a beginning of acid in her voice.

mrs. bonnet again disengaged the hair from the tongs, and after a little pause, during which to make firm her nerve, with infinite solicitude took hold again of the golden strand, and would have waved it, but—

"mind what you are about!" almost screamed little mrs. darling. "didn't i tell you to be careful? you have been pulling right along at the same hair! do consider that it is a human scalp, and not a wig you are dealing with! bonny, you are not a bad woman, but you will wear me out. come, go on with it; it is getting late."

before the hair-dressing was accomplished mrs. darling rolled up her eyes—her blue[3] eyes, round and angelic as they could sometimes be—at the reflection of mrs. bonnet's face in the mirror, and said, meekly: "bonny, do you think that black moiré of mine would make over nicely for you? i am going to give it to you. no, don't thank me—it makes me look old. now my slippers."

while bonnet was forcing the shoe on her fat little foot, mrs. darling's glance rested, perhaps by chance, on a photograph that leaned against the clock over the mantelpiece. it was that of a still young, well-looking man, whose face wore an unmistakable look of goodness, of the kind that made it what one expected to read under it in print—the rev. dorel goodhue. there was another more conspicuous man-photograph in the room, on the dressing-table, in a massive frame that matched the toilet accessories. it stood there always, airing a photographic smile among the brushes and hand-glasses and pin-boxes.

"i suppose," said mrs. darling, while she braced herself against bonnet to help get the small shoe on—"i suppose i have a very[4] bad temper!" and she laughed in such a sensible, natural, good-natured way any one must have felt that her exhibition of a moment before had been a sort of joke. "tell the truth, bonny: if every mistress had to have a certificate from her maid, you would give me a pretty bad one, wouldn't you? but i was abominably brought up. i used to slap my governesses. and i have had all sorts of illnesses; trouble, too. and i mostly don't mean anything by it. it is just nerves. poor bonny! i treat you shamefully, don't i?"

"oh, ma'am," said the lady's-maid, expanding in the light of this uncommon familiarity, "i would give you a character as would make it no difficulty in you getting a first-class situation right away; you may depend upon it, ma'am, i would. don't this shoe seem a bit tight, ma'am?"

"not at all. it is a whole size larger than i wear. if you would just be so good as to hold the shoe-horn properly. there, that is it."

she stood before the bed, on which were[5] spread two long evening dresses. a little king charles spaniel had made himself comfortable in the softest of one. his mistress pounced on him with a cry, first cuffed, then kissed and put him down. "which shall i wear?" she asked.

bonnet drew back for a critical view, but dared not suggest unprompted.

"the black and white is more becoming, but the violet crape is prettier. oh, bonny, decide quickly for me, like a tossed-up penny!"

"well, i think now i should say the violet, ma'am."

"should you?" mrs. darling mused, with a finger against her lip. "but i look less well in it. surely i had rather look pretty myself than have my dress look pretty, hadn't i? give me the black and white, and hurry. mr. goodhue will be here in a second. bonnet!" she burst forth, in quite another tone. "you trying creature! didn't i tell you to put a draw-string through that lace? didn't i tell you? where are your ears? where are your senses? what on[6] earth do you spend your time thinking about, i should like to know, anyway? i wouldn't wear that thing as it is, not for—not for—oh, i am tired of living surrounded by fools! take it away—take it away! bring the violet!"

at last she was encased in the fluffy violet crape, and at sight of the sweet picture she made in the mirror her brow cleared a little; she looked baby-eyed and angelic again, with her wavy hair meekly parted in the middle. while she looked at herself she let bonnet have one of her arms to button the long glove.

"ouch! go softly; you pinch!" she murmured.

bonnet changed her method with the silver hook, adjusted it anew, and pulled at it ever so softly.

"ouch! you pinch me!" said mrs. darling, a little louder.

bonnet stopped short, and looked helplessly at the glove, that could not be made to meet without strain over the plump white wrist. after a breathing-while, with[7] stealthy gentleness, again she fitted the silver loop over the button, and, with a devout inward appeal to heaven, tried to induce it through the button-hole. she had almost succeeded when mrs. darling screamed, "ouch, ouch, ouch! you pinch like anything! i am black and blue!" and tearing her arm from the quaking servant, began fidgeting with the button herself, soon pulling it off.

"she let bonnet have one of her arms"

"bonnet, how many times must i tell you to sew the buttons fast on my gloves before you give them me to put on?" she asked, severely. "no, they were not!" she stormed, and peeled off the glove, throwing it far from her, inside out.

there was a knock, and a respectful voice saying, outside the door, "mr. goodhue is below, ma'am."

"get a needle," mrs. darling said, humbly, like a child reminded of its promise to behave, and waited patiently while the button was sewed on, and held out her arm again, letting bonnet pinch without a murmur.

[8] a final bunch of violets was tucked in the bosom of her gown, and she was leaving the bedroom, when, as if at a sudden thought, she turned back, went to the door of a little room leading from it, and stood looking in.

"aren't they lovely, the hundred of them?" she gushed. "did you ever see such a sight? one prettier than the other! i almost wish i were one of the little girls myself!"

"them that gets them will be made happy, sure, ma'am. i suppose it's for some christmas-tree?"

"they are for my cousin dorel's orphans. pick up, bonny. open the windows. mind you keep jetty with you. don't let him go into the kitchen. i am sure they feed him. i shall not be very late—not later than twelve."

mrs. darling went down the stairs, followed by bonnet with her mantle and fan, and jetty, who leaped and yapped in the delusion that he was going to be taken for a walk.

the gentleman waiting below came forward to take mrs. darling's hand.

mrs. bonnet listened to the exchange of[9] polite expressions between them with no small degree of impatience; it seemed to her they might just as well have made these communications later, in the carriage.

at last and at last they were gone. with the clap of the door behind them the whole atmosphere of the house changed as by enchantment. a door slammed somewhere; a voice burst out singing below-stairs; the man in livery who had held the door for mrs. darling and her reverend cousin leaned over the banisters and shouted, heartily, "catherine! i say, catherine!" mrs. bonnet fairly scampered up-stairs, with the mistaken jetty, who thought this was the beginning of a romp, hard after her, trying to catch her by the heels.

she entered mrs. darling's room with no affectation of soft-stepping, threw up the window—the sharp outer air cut into the scented warmth like a silver axe—and began pushing things briskly into their places. she digressed from her labors a moment to get from the closet a black moiré, which she examined, then replaced.

[10] now came a rap at the door, and a voice only a shade less respectful than before, saying, "miss pittock is waiting below, ma'am."

"very well, i will be down directly," said mrs. bonnet. "come here, jetty!"

jetty, instead of coming, ran round and round among the chair legs, waving his tail in a graceful circle, eluding mrs. bonnet's hand not by swiftness, but craft.

"come here, you little fool," muttered bonnet; and as her bidding, however severe, availed nothing, she cast mrs. darling's wrapper over the little beast, and got him entangled like a black-and-tan butterfly in a pocket-handkerchief. she snatched him up squirming a little, tucked him tightly under her arm, and ran up-stairs to her own chamber on the third floor. there she dropped him; and when she had donned her black coat and bonnet, gloves and galoshes, during which preparations jetty was leaping and yapping like crazy, in the supposition again that they were going for a walk together, she turned out the light and shut the door against his wet, black nose. his reproach[11]ful barks followed her down the passage. "it's good for 'is lungs," she said, grimly, hurrying over the stairs.

"at last they were gone"

and here at the foot was miss pittock, looking quite more than the lady in her mistress's last year's cape.

"i hope i haven't kept you waiting, miss pittock."

"quite the contrary; don't mention it, mrs. bonnet. oh, the shops is a sight to behold, mrs. bonnet! i never seen anything like this year. it do seem as if people made more to-do than they used about christmas, don't it? are we ready, mrs. bonnet?"

"i am if you are, miss pittock."

"now, what kind of shops do you fancy most, so we'll go and look into their show-windows first?"

"i'm sure i don't know. what do you prefer yourself, miss pittock? we've time to see most everything of any account, anyhow. she's not coming home before twelve."

"no more is mine. suppose we go first to the grand bazar. they've always got[12] the most amazing show there. that you, mr. jackson? a merry christmas to you, mr. jackson, and a happy new year!"

for just as they reached the door they found the butler letting himself out too. he did not sleep in the house, and was taking the opportunity to-night to leave early. for a second he could not return miss pittock's salutation, his mouth being crowded with a last bite snatched in haste. when he had swallowed, he grinned and excused his hurry, holding the door for the ladies.

"sorry i ain't going your way, ladies," he said, amiably, and the door closed behind the three.

in the kitchen the cook, with a face like a pleasant copper saucepan, rosy and shining and round, was moving about leisurely, giving this and that a final unhurried wipe. she wore a face of contentment; it was her legitimate night out; with a good conscience presently she was going up to make a change, and off to her family.

a young woman in a light gingham and frilled cap sat watching her sulkily, her[13] hands idle on her embroidered muslin apron. a girl of perhaps eighteen, capless, in a dark calico that made not the first pretension to elegance, was washing her face at one of the shiny copper faucets. she vanished a moment, and came back with her damp hair streaked all over by the comb. the cook was gone.

"you going, too, i suppose?" said the sullen parlor-maid.

"why, yes. 'ain't i done everything? there's no need of my staying, is there?" the kitchen-maid went home for the night, too.

"no, i don't suppose there is. i just thought you might happen to be, that's all."

the kitchen-maid sat down a minute, in a tired, ungirt position, and looked over at the parlor-maid with good-natured young eyes grown a trifle speculative. the latter let her glance wander over the day's newspaper, brought down-stairs until inquired for.

"tell you what i'd like to do!" exclaimed the kitchen-maid.

"what'd you like to do, sally?"

[14]

"that's to come back again after i've been home for just a minute."

the parlor-maid looked up, unable altogether to conceal her interest. the house was very quiet. through the clock-ticks, at perfectly regular intervals, came the muffled sound of jetty's disconsolate yaps. neither of the girls appeared to hear them.

"you don't mean just to oblige, do you, sally?"

"well, i'd do it in a minute for nothing else beside, but that ain't quite all i was thinking of just this once. miss catherine"—she hesitated, then, enthusiastically—"have you seen 'em up-stairs? the whole hundred of 'em laid out off mrs. darling's bedroom? i saw 'em when mrs. bonnet she sent me up for the lamps to clean. law! wouldn't any child like to see a sight like that! there's a little girl in my tenement, she'd just go crazy. do you think there'd be any harm in it if i was to bring her over and let her get one peep? she's as clean a child as ever you saw. she comes of dreadful poor folks, but just as respectable! she never[15] seen anything like it in her life. law, what would i have done when i was a young one if i'd seen that? i'd thought i was dead and gone to heaven. i say, miss catherine, d' you think any one would mind?"

"how'll they know?" said miss catherine, callously. "look here, sally; you go along just as fast as you can and fetch your young one. and when you've got back, perhaps i'll step out a minute, two or three doors up street, and you can answer the bell while i'm gone. now hurry into your things. i'll give you your car fare."

"miss catherine, you're just as good as you can be, and i'll do something to oblige you, too, some time," said sally, her face aglow with delight; and having hurried into her jacket and tied up her head in a worsted muffler, was off.

she almost ran over the packed snow down the street. she had soon left the quiet rows of private dwelling-houses and come where hundreds of lights glittered across the rose-tinged snow. at every few rods a street band tootled and blared, cov[16]ering the scraping of snow-shovels and jingle of bells. "how gay it is!" she thought; "won't it be a treat!"

she plunged into a mean, small street, leading off a mean but tawdry larger one, where things hung outside the shops with their prices, written large, pinned on them, and had soon come to the house where her family lived.

she went in like a great gust of fresh air. in less than five minutes she came out, leading by the hand a little girl who, from being very much bundled up about the shoulders, and having brief petticoats above thin black legs, looked top-heavy. she was obliged to nearly run to keep up with sally, and was trying to get out words through the breathlessness occasioned by hurrying and laughing and coming so suddenly into the frosty air.

"oh, lemme guess, sal, and tell me when i'm hot. is it made of sugar?"

"no, it ain't."

"but you said it was a treat, didn't you, sally?"

[17]

"i did that. but ain't there all sorts of treats? there's going to the circus, for instance. that hasn't any sugar."

"is it a circus, sally? is it a circus?"

"no, it ain't a circus, but it's every bit as nice."

"is it freaks, sally? oh, tell me if it's freaks? it isn't? are you sure i shall like it very much? it's nothing to eat, and it's nothing i can have to keep, and it's not a circus. what color is it? you'll answer straight, won't you?"

"oh, it's every color in the world, and striped and polka-dotted and crinkled and smooth. there's a hundred of it."

the child would have stopped short on the sidewalk the better to centre her mind on guessing, but sally dragged her briskly along. at the top of the street they came to a standstill.

"what is it?" asked the child.

"we're going to take the car," said sally, grandly.

"o—h!" breathed the child.

"i guess you never stepped on to one of[18] these before. this, tibbie, is nothing but the beginning. hi! hi!"

the swiftly gliding, fiery, formidable car stopped, and the hoarse buzz died out in a grinding of brakes; the light was dimmed a minute, then flared out again, as if the monster had winked. sally and tibbie climbed on; it moved, banging and whirring on its farther way. they had to stand, of course, but what of that? tibbie looked all about with her shining, intelligent brown eyes, and felt a flush of gratified pride to see sally, when the conductor had squeezed himself near, pay like the others; it had seemed impossible that some compromise should not have to be made with him. she slipped her hand in sally's, and was too occupied with the people and the colored advertisements to talk.

"did you get anything for christmas yet, tibbie?"

she moved her head up and down, bestowing all her attention on a parcel-laden woman bound to drop something the next time she stirred.

[19]

"what did you get?"

"a doll's flat-iron and a muslin bag of candy. i put the iron on to heat, and it melted. i gave what was left to jimmy."

"who gave them to you?"

"off the sunday-school tree. but there were no lights on it, because it was daytime. sally, i know something that has a hundred—"

"what's that? let's see if you've got it now?"

tibbie looked a little shamefaced, then said, "a dollar—is a hundred cents."

"well, and would i be bringing you so far just to show you a dollar? this is worth as much as a dollar, every individual one of them. tibbie, it's just the grandest sight you ever seen—pink and blue and yellow and striped—"

tibbie, who was looking sally fixedly in the face, as if to see if her secret anywhere transpired, now almost shouted, "it's marbles!"

"aw, but you're downright stupid, tibbie. i don't mind telling you i'm disap[20]pointed. you're just a common, every-day sort of young one, with no idear of grandness in your idears at all. and you don't seem to keep a hold on more than one notion at a time. first it's a dollar. is that pink and blue? and next it's marbles. is marbles worth a dollar apiece? now tell me what's the grandest, prettiest thing that ever you saw—"

"... angels."

"d' you ever see any?"

"in the church window, painted."

"well, this is as handsome as a hundred angels, less than a foot tall, all in new clothes, with little hats on."

"sally, i think i know now. only it couldn't be that. there couldn't likely be a hundred of them all together, for, oh, sally, it isn't a store we are going to! you didn't tell me it was a store."

"no more it is. we're going straight to mrs. darling's house, and no place but there. here's where we get off."

the big girl, with the small one, alighted and turned into the quieter streets, tibbie,[21] as before, almost running to keep up with her long-legged friend.

they went into mrs. darling's by the back door. in the kitchen stood miss catherine in a coat with jet spangles and a hat with nodding plumes, pulling on a pair of tight kid gloves.

tibbie at sight of her hung back, murmuring to sally, "you didn't tell me! you didn't tell me!"

"now, you'll be sure she don't touch anything, sally," said miss catherine, looking tibbie over.

"naw! she won't hurt anything. i've told her i'll skin her if she does."

"are her hands clean? you'd better give them a wash, anyhow."

tibbie dropped her eyes, a little mortified.

"all right! i'll wash 'em," said sally.

"she'd better scrape her boots thoroughly on the mat, too, before going up."

"i'll look after all that, miss catherine. just you go long with an easy mind."

"well, i'm off. i won't be long. why don't you give her a piece of that cake? it's[22] cut. but make her eat it down here. good-night, little girl. i guess you never was in a house like this before. good-night, sal. is my hat on straight?"

she was gone, and the whole house now belonged to sally and tibbie. they looked at each other in silence a moment; the glee they felt came shining to the surface of their faces and made them grin broadly at each other.

"she's particular, ain't she?" said sally.

"i just as soon wash them again, but they're clean. i thought you said she was gone off to a party and going to be gone till real late."

"law!" roared sally, and plumped down to contort herself in comfort. "she thought it was mrs. darling herself! law! law!"

tibbie laughed, too, but not so heartily, and the great time began.

sally went for the cake-box, and tibbie made a thoughtful selection; and "who'll ever find a few crumbs?" said sally. "come along!"

the great child and the little, full of a[23] sense of play, went up the stairs hand in hand. tibbie could scarcely take account of what was happening to her, such was the pure delight of the adventure.

"this is the dining-room; this is the sitting-room; this is the receiving-room; this, now prepare—this is mrs. darling's own room!"

up went the light; the rose-paper walls, the rose-chintz dumpy chairs, the silver-laden dressing-table, the pink and white draped bed, leaped into sight. tibbie stood still, open-lipped.

"ain't it handsome?" asked sally, with the pride of indirectly belonging to such things. "come along, i'm going to wash your hands in mrs. darling's basin."

she drew tibbie, who gazed backward over her shoulder, into the little alcove where the marble wash-stand was, and turned on stiff jets of hot and cold water together. at the sweet odor of the soap tablet pushed under her nose, tibbie's attention was won to the operations of washing and wiping.

"but where is there a hundred of any[24]thing?" she asked, faintly, looking all about.

"oh, this ain't it yet! this is only like the outside entry. now, miss tibbs, what kind of scent will you have on your hands?"

"oh, sal!"

"shall it be violet, or russian empress, or—what's this other—lilass blank? or the anatomizer played over them like the garden-hose?"

they unstopped the bottles in turn, and drew up out of them great, noisy, luxurious breaths. "this, sally, this," said tibbie at the one with the double name like a person. sally poured a drop in her little rough, red hands, and she danced as she rubbed them together.

"why are the little scissors crooked?" she asked, busily picking up and putting down things one after the other. "what for is the fluting-irons? what for is the butter in the little chiny jar? what's the flour for in the silver box? oh, what's this? oh, sal, what's that?"

sally picked up the powder-puff and gave[25] her little friend, who drew back startled and coughing, a dusty dab with it on each cheek. "it's to make you pale," she said. "it ain't fashionable to be red." she applied the puff to her own cheeks as well. the two stood gazing in silent interest at themselves in the mirror, and gradually broke into smiles at the incongruous reflection. sally suddenly bent one cheek, hitched up one shoulder, and brushed half her face clean; then did the same by the other cheek with her other shoulder. tibbie, who had watched her, aped her movement faithfully. they looked at themselves again, and tibbie remarked, "but i ain't red, anyhow."

"law! that you ain't! when are you going to begin to get some fat on your bones, tibbie, or to grow?"

"i don't know. who's the gentleman, sal, in the pretty frame?"

"that's mrs.'s husband. he ain't been living some time."

"oh, he isn't living. listen, listen, sally! what's that noise i keep hearing? i've heard it ever since we came."

[26]

sally listened. "that? that's jetty. it's a little bit of a dog, up at the top of the house."

"oh, a little bit of a dog! why does he bark all the time?"

"i guess mrs. bonnet shut him up there alone in the dark till she came back from gadding with miss pittock."

"couldn't we get him, sally? i hate to hear him. i want to see him awfully."

"all right. you wait here. but don't you hurt anything, or i'll skin you, sure, like i told miss catherine. and whatever you do, don't you go into the little room till i come back."

"is the hundred there?"

"yes, it's there."

tibbie, left alone, looked at the half-open door a minute, then turned away from it: all was so interesting, anyhow, she could wait with grace. with the palm of her hand, which she frequently stopped to smell, she stroked the fine linen pillows on the bed, and the white bear rugs on the floor, and the curtains: everything felt so soft. she ex[27]amined the features of the rev. dorel goodhue with approbation, proposing to ask sally whether she knew him.

the bark came nearer and nearer; when the door opened, in tumbled a small silky ball of black dog, who almost turned himself inside out in his delight at being in human company again. he ran floppily about and about the floor, in his conscious, cringing, graceful way, waving his tail round and round, tossing back his long silk ears to bark and bark.

at last the girls between them had him caught. he was squeezed tight in tibbie's arms, where he wriggled and twitched, covering her cheeks and ears with rapid dog-kisses, interspersed still with rapturous barks. "oh, oh!" cried tibbie, trying vainly to hold him still long enough to get a good kiss at him. "isn't he soft? isn't he sweet? and he has a yellow ribbon. oh, do keep quiet, doggie dear—you tickle!"

"i don't think we will bother any more about seeing the hundred," said sally, a[28] feigned coldness in her tone, and stood aloof watching child and dog.

"i had forgotten, honest, sally."

"put him down and come on, then."

"mayn't i hold him and come too?"

"no; for when you see 'em, you'll drop him so quick you'll like as not break his legs."

"all right. down, jetty! down, sir! come along, jetty; come right along, dear!"

"wait a minute. i'll go in first and turn up the light. when i sing out, you come on."

she went ahead, and jetty precipitated himself at her heels. tibbie stooped with anxious inducing noises, and "come back, sir! come back!"

"ready!" shouted sally.

tibbie made a bound for the door, but at a step's distance was overcome by a curious timidity, and instead of bolting in, pulled the door towards her tremulously, and pushed aside the lace hanging with a cold hand.

there lay the hundred, all on a couch under the gas-light, arranged as in a show[29]-window, propped by means of silk cushions so as to form a solid sloping bank—the hundred beautiful dolls.

"well, ma'am?" asked sally, expectantly.

tibbie said nothing, but looked at them vaguely, full of constraint.

"well, i never!" said sally. "don't you like 'em? what on earth did you expect, child? well, i never! well, if it don't beat all! why, when i was a young one—why, tibbie girl—don't you think they are lovely?"

"yes," she whispered, moving her head slowly up and down, then letting it hang.

"aw, come out of that," said sally, understanding. "come, let's look at 'em one by one, taking all our time. come to sally, darling, and don't feel bad. we'll have lots of fun."

she took the not unwilling tibbie by the hand, and led her nearer the banked splendor.

the dolls were all of a size, and, undressed, would with difficulty have been told apart, except, perhaps, by their little mothers. all[30] were very blond and wide-eyed and bow-lipped; all, though dressed like little ladies, had the chubby hands of infants; and their boots were painted trimly on with black, and their garters with blue. but how to render the coquettish fashionableness with which these wax-complexioned darlings were tricked out! all equally in silks and satins and velvets and lace, so that there could be no jealousies; all with hats of like beauty and stylishness.

sally seated herself on the floor beside the low couch, and pulled tibbie down into her lap, who drew up jetty into hers. tibbie had recovered the power to speak, but was still unduly sober and husky.

"i had almost guessed it, you know," she said, "when you said like angels with hats on. but i couldn't think there would be a hundred unless it was a store. what has the lady so many for?"

"bless your heart! they ain't for herself! they are for orphans in a school that a minister-cousin of hers is superintendent of. she has been over a month making[31] these clothes. every wednesday she would give a tea party, and a lot of ladies come and sit stitching and snipping and buzzing over the dolls' clothes the blessed afternoon. and i washed the tea things after them all!"

"they are for the orphans. are there a hundred orphans?"

"i guess likely."

"suppose, sally—suppose there were only ninety-nine, and some girl got two!"

"well, we two have got a hundred for to-night, tibbie, so let's play, and glad enough we've got our mothers. look, this is the way you must hold them to be sure of not crumpling anything."

she slipped her hand deftly under a doll's petticoats, and they peeped discreetly at the dainty under-clothes, crisp and snowy, more lace than linen.

"my soul and body! did you ever see the like!" exclaimed sally, spurring on tibbie's enthusiasm by the tone of her voice, making the wonder more, to fill her little friend's soul to intoxication. tibbie easily[32] responded. she fairly rocked herself to and fro with delight.

"and not a pin among 'em," sighed sally. "all pearl buttons and silk tying-strings and silver hooks and eyes; and, mercy on my soul! a little bit of a pocket in every dress, with its little bit of a lace pocket-handkerchief inside. d'you see that, tibbie? and not two alike!"

"oh, but there are some 'most alike!" said the quick-eyed tibbie; "only, scattered far apart. there are three with the little rose-bud silk, and here's more than one with the speckled muslin. perhaps those will be given to sisters."

"come on, tibbie; let's choose the one we would choose to get, if we was to get one given us. now, i would like that one in red velvet. it's just so dressy, ain't it, with the gold braid sewed down in a pattern round the bottom. which would you take?"

"i should like the one all in white. she must be a bride; see, she has a wreath and veil and necklace. i should like her the[33] very best. but right after that, if i could have two, i should like this other in the shade-hat with the forget-me-nots, and forget-me-nots dotted all over her dress. and, see! the sky-blue hair-ribbon. if i could just have three of them, then i would take this one too, with the black lace shawl over her head fastened with roses instead of a hat. she has such a lovely face! and after her i would choose this one in green—or this one in pink; no, this one here, sally, just look—this one in green and pink. and you, if you could have more than one, which would you choose, after the red one?"

"well, i guess i'd choose this one in white."

"oh no, sally; don't you remember? that is the bride, the one i said the very first. you can have all the others, sally dear, except the bride. but let's see, perhaps there are two brides. yes!—no!—that is just a little girl in white, without a wreath. should you like her as well? i was the first to say the bride, you know."

"law! i wouldn't have wanted her if i[34] had known she was a bride! i take this one, tibbie—this one with the feathers in her hat. ain't she the gay girl, in red and green plaid! and this purple silk one, and this red and white stripe, and this—"

"wait! that's enough, sally; that makes four for you. it's my turn now. if i could have five, i should take one of the rose-bud ones—no, two of them, so's to play i had twins. say, sally, let's choose one apiece—first you one, then me one, till we've chosen them all up, and got fifty apiece. your turn."

they chose and chose, pointing each time, and detailing the costume of the chosen one aloud with the greatest enjoyment.

jetty had laid himself down beside them, stretched his silky length, his nose between his paws. he was very tired. perhaps among the things his great moist eyes were wondering about was the reason of this fatigue in his vocal chords.

"for my forty-fifth one," said sally, placing her forefinger pensively against the side of her nose, "i choose her—her with the little black velvets run all through."

[35]

"taken already," said tibbie, promptly.

"then her over there, with the short puffy sleeves."

"taken!"

"she taken too? well, then, her in the pink mother hubbard with the little knitting-bag on her arm."

"taken, sally! can't you remember anything? those belong to me; i chose them long ago. these are the only not taken ones; here and here and here and here and here and here and—"

"aw, you're a great girl!" cried sally, suddenly throwing her arms around tibbie and casting herself backward on the floor with her, where they tumbled and rolled, laughing, jetty jumping about on top of them, barking hoarsely in a frenzy of fun.

"oh, tibbie, ain't we having a time of it?"

and tibbie almost shouted, "yes!—ain't we having a time of it!"

"ain't this a night?"

"oh yes!—ain't it a night!"

sally tickled and poked her affectionately; and she tried to tickle sally, and laughed till[36] she was almost hysterical, and never remembered who she was, or thought of anything outside this little room, but was filled with a sense of the crazy deliciousness of the moment.

at last, weak with laughter, she disentangled herself from the still panting and laughing sally on the floor, and insisted on returning to the business of the distribution. she felt in the mood to be very funny. she jerked herself up and down and all about in a senseless sort of way.

"here, sally, now stop laughing and let's finish. it was your turn. you'd best take that one; she looks more as if she might be a little girl of yours, her cheeks are so red—red as a great big cabbage!" this remark seemed to tibbie so inexpressibly humorous that she laughed again till she nearly cried.

"well, it's sure none of 'em has legs to make 'em look like children of yours," retorted sally; and that seemed a greater joke still. with a foal's action, tibbie flung out the thin black legs with the awkward boots at the ends of them, and dropped to the[37] floor squirming and laughing. sally caught her suddenly again, and cast herself backward with her as before, in a gale of mirth.

there they were frolicking, when the peal of a bell rang brightly across their giggles.

sally sat up instantly, and all in mrs. darling's house was for a long moment still as the very grave, for sally had instinctively clapped her hand over jetty's ready muzzle.

"murder!" whispered sally, solemnly, at last.

"what is it?" breathed tibbie in her ear.

"was it the front door or the back door?" asked sally.

"i dun'no', sally."

sally had picked herself up, and was stroking down her things.

tibbie stood beside her, looking up in her face, her own a trifle pale.

sally's irresolution lasted only a second. she cast an eye on the dolls, saw that they were very nearly as she had found them, and turned down the light. she looked about mrs. darling's room to see that all[38] was as usual, and turned down the lights there too, after glancing at the clock.

"it ain't late," she murmured. "it ain't a bit later than i supposed. it can't be her! it might be mrs. bonnet, though, getting home before catherine, who's got the key. i shouldn't want her to catch you here for the whole world. look here, tibbie. you stand in here till i find out who it is, and if it's mrs. bonnet, you'll have to stay hidden till i find a good chance to come and smuggle you down."

tibbie waited in the farthest corner of the hall closet, holding her breath, conscious of nothing at first but excitement and fear of she did not know quite what. after a little, the thought drifted across her fervent hope for present safety, that though she got well out of this scrape, she would probably never see those radiant dollies again, her own half or sally's.

she heard a whiffling and scratching at the closet door. here was jetty, dear jetty, whose actions would surely betray her to mrs. bonnet when she came that way. tib[39]bie whispered: "go right away, jetty. there's no one in this closet; go right away!" and pressed backward to the wall, among the water-proofs, feeling like a little criminal with the police on her track.

"tibbie!" came sally's voice from the foot of the stairs: it sounded perfectly calm, and pleasant with a sort of company pleasantness. "it's all right. it's just a friend dropped in for a moment. you can go in again and play a little longer. turn up the light carefully. but remember what i told you."

tibbie instantly forgot all her fears. she came out and picked up jetty; she kissed him, explaining why she had told him to go away. the doggie seemed to bear no malice.

tibbie tiptoed into the doll-room, and established herself on her knees before the dolls, happier than before, with a profounder happiness, in a stiller, almost devotional mood. it was so different being alone with them, having them quite to herself, to play with in her own way. she took up the[40] bride with a reverent hand, and after long contemplating her, very seriously, tenderly kissed her. then, touching them as if they had been snow-flakes almost, she moved the impressive little persons about, until her fifty were on one side and sally's on the other.

"i can't play they're a family," she reflected; "they are too many all the same age, and all girls. i will play they are a hundred girls in an orphan asylum—a very rich orphan asylum—and that i am the superintendent. to-morrow i am going to give each a beautiful doll for a christmas present. this little girl's name is rosa. that one is nelly. that one is katy. that one is sue." she named every one, passing through the list of such names as golden-locks, cherrylips, diamondeyes, to end with such invented ones as kirry, mirry, dirry, birry. they seemed so much completer with names. tibbie would say, "miss snowdrop!" and miss snowdrop, with tibbie's assistance, would rise, answering, "yes, ma'am." "spell knot." "n—o—t!" "not at all,[41] my dear. sit down again, my dear. miss lily; stand up, miss, and see if you can do any better this morning."

suddenly, after having taken the asylum through a day's exercises, tibbie tired of being the superintendent. she craved a relation more intimate, more affectionate, with the dollies. she did not believe a superintendent would have kissed and fondled them as she longed to do. she selected a dozen or so, to play they were her children. she gave them their supper; she washed them and made them say their prayers. she told them it was bedtime, and she would now rock them to sleep. she turned down the light, to make all very real, and drawing out a low rocking-chair that seemed made for her purpose, seated herself in it with two dolls on each arm, the rest made as comfortable as possible on her lap; for not one of them, after being included in the family, could, of course, be left out of the rocking. she rocked gently, now hushing, now singing "bye-low-low-baby," her maternal heart swollen very large. in time, one of[42] the daughters became fractious and restless; she had to have medicine, and the rocking for her sake had to become almost violent. nothing would soothe her but that the chair should rock backward and forward to the very tip ends of its rockers. this had its good effect at last; all the dolls were fast asleep, and the mother, her duty done, composed herself to take a well-earned rest too. this thought was no doubt suggested to tibbie by the fact that she was really getting sleepy. it was long past her bedtime.

she was not far from napping when she became aware of sally saying: "lively, tibbie! miss catherine has got back. we must be packing off home. i declare i lost sight of the time. there's just no one like a fireman to be entertaining, i declare. mrs. bonnet won't be long coming now."

she turned up the light, and saw the dolls so disarranged.

tibbie was rubbing her eyes.

"law!" said sally, a little blankly. "do you suppose we can get them to look as they did? i hope t' heaven she didn't know[43] which went next to which. do you remember, tibbie, where each belonged?"

"yes. the bride went here. the rose-buds here. the purple and gray here. i can put them all back, every one."

"oh, we're all right!" said sally, cheerfully again. "no one'll ever know in the world they've been disturbed."

she had drawn off to get the general effect, and compare it with the earlier image in her brain, when she made a dive for one of the dolls, the last one, that the sleepy tibbie had handed her up off the floor.

"tibbie!" she said, in a ghastly whisper, "look at its head!"

something had happened to it, certainly. its pink-and-white face was pushed in; it looked very much as if a chair-rocker had gone over it. tibbie looked at it, not understanding at all.

"oh, tibbie!" groaned sally, "now what'll we do!"

"i didn't do it," said tibbie, lifting a pale face with perfectly truthful eyes. "i was just as careful! she was one of my daugh[44]ters; i had her in my lap rocking her to sleep with the others; she must have slipped off my lap—there were too many for one lap, i guess—but i didn't step on her. sure, sally—sure as i live, i didn't step on her!"

"oh, law! you must have rocked on her. oh, tibbie, what'll i do!"

she picked up the doll to examine it, but saw at once that the little face could not be made right again.

tibbie watched her without a word; her voice seemed to have sunk far below reach.

sally moved the dolls about tentatively, so that ninety-nine should cover the same space as a hundred. certainly at first glance the one she held would never be missed. "but what's the good?" she said, throwing it down. "they'll count them, and there'll be the mischief of a fuss. oh, tibbie"—and she had reached the end of her good-nature—"why did i ever think of bringing you here? now look at all the trouble you've brought on me, when i thought you'd be so careful! and i told you and[45] told you till i was hoarse. and here you've ruined all!"

tibbie's eyes could not bear to meet sally's. she stood with her hands behind her, speechless and motionless, in the middle of the floor.

"i declare i don't know what to do!" sally exclaimed, dropping her arms and sitting down before the wreck. "i wish i'd never seen 'em! i wish there'd never been any christmas! oh, it's a great job, this! tibbie, you've done for me this time!"

at this moment miss catherine came in to hurry them.

"she's broken one of them!" blurted out sally.

"you don't mean it!"

"yes, she has!"

"let me see it. oh, you wicked child! she's smashed its face right in! now who ever heard of such naughtiness?"

tibbie twisted about ever so little, to get her back turned towards the two.

"she didn't do it out of naughtiness at all, miss catherine. she's as good a child as[46] ever lived!" at that tibbie's shoulders gave a little convulsive heave. "it was an accident entirely. but that's just as bad for me. i suppose i shall have to say it was me did it."

"and then they'll say what was i doing while the kitchen help was poking about in the mrs.'s chamber. no; you don't get me into trouble, sally bean! you'd much better say how it was—how that you asked me if you just might bring a little girl to look, and i said you might, out of pure good-nature, being christmas is rightly for children, and i've a softness for them. and while we was both in the kitchen, she slipped away from us and came here and done it before we knew. and the child herself will say that it was so. you'll be packed off dead sure out of this place if you let on you meddled with them yourself. she won't have her things meddled with—there goes the bell. there comes that old cat bonnet."

she hurried off to open.

"what's the matter?" said mrs. bonnet,[47] elevating her eyebrows as she appeared at the door and looked into the room she had expected to find dark and still. she held a paper bag; she spoke with an impediment and a breath of peppermint. her cheek-bones and the end of her nose were brilliant pink with the cold. "what child is that?"

miss catherine was behind mrs. bonnet. "it happened this way, mrs. bonnet," she began, and told the story with a little tactful adaptation to the intelligence of her audience, ending, "and now, mrs. bonnet, what's to be done?"

"oh, you wicked little brat!" said mrs. bonnet. "i just want to get hold of you and shake you!"

she made a snatch at tibbie, who instinctively got beyond her clutch, and turning scared eyes towards sally, said, just audibly, "i want to go home; i want to go home."

"it don't seem possible," said mrs. bonnet, bitterly, "that i can't run out a minute just to do an errand for mrs. darling herself—to get a spool of feather-stitching silk—but[48] things like this has to happen. catherine, i thought you, at least, was a responsible person, and here you has to go and—"

"mrs. bonnet," catherine interrupted, "you just let that alone! don't you try none of that with me! i went out of an errand every bit as much as you did. i went out to make sure the ice-cream would be sent in good season for christmas dinner, i did. now i don't get dragged into this mess one bit more than you do!"

mrs. bonnet looked at her with a poison-green eye. she seemed to be repressing what was a trifle difficult to keep the upper hand of.

"well," she exclaimed at last, "mrs. darling will be here in a minute, and then we shall all see what we shall see. lord, ain't that woman been cross to-day, and fussy! 'tain't as if she was like other people—a little bit sensible, and could take some little few things into consideration, and remember we are all human flesh and blood. not much! she don't consider nothing, nor nobody, nor feelings, nor circumstances! she[49] just makes things fly! things has to go her way, every time!"

"i want to go home," cried tibbie, pathetically, and looked towards sally now with a trembling face.

"no, you sha'n't go home," said bonnet, uglily. "you shall stay right here and take the blame you deserve, after spoiling the face of that handsome doll. what do you mean by it, you little brat, you little gutter imp?"

"you let her alone, mrs. bonnet," said sally, with a boldness that had never before characterized her relations with that lady. "don't you talk to her like that! any one can see she's as sorry as sorry can be for what she's done, and all the trouble she's got us into—"

"and what does that help, i'd like to know? the doll is broke, ain't it? and some one of us is going to catch it, however things go. you're a lucky girl, i say, if you don't lose your place. some one of us is going to, i can easy foretell."

"i ain't going to lose my place," said miss[50] catherine, firmly; and with a lifted chin was leaving to lay off her things, when the cook's nice copper-saucepan face was pushed a little inside the door.

"what's the matter?" she asked, cheerily, and stepped in. her high-colored shawl was pinned on her breast with a big brooch; her bonnet-strings were nearly lost in her fat chin. "what's it all about? whose nice little girl is this?"

gradually she got the whole story, and going straight to tibbie lifted her miserable little face, saying: "don't you feel bad one bit, darlin'! it was all an accident, and it's no good crying over spilt milk. and if mrs. darling gets mad at you, she ain't the real lady i take her for. why, i gave my clary a new doll to-night, and it's ready for a new head this minute. and did i stop to rear and tear about it? not a bit of it. why, bless you, she didn't go for to do it! what child smashes a doll a purpose? you're a pretty set, the whole gang of you, to pitch into a mite like this!"

tibbie by this time was freely weeping,[51] and sally and the cook together were trying to comfort and silence her.

"i've a great mind to stay here myself and stand up for her, yer pack of old maids, the lot of yer!" said the cook, looking hard at mrs. bonnet, who had reappeared without her hat and coat.

"you will oblige me, mrs. macgrath, by doing nothing of the sort," said mrs. bonnet. "we've no need to have a whole scene from the drama. you've no business on this floor anyhow, and i must insist on your keeping yourself in your own quarters."

"and i'll take my own time, yer born britisher," said mrs. macgrath. then putting her arm around tibbie: "well, tibbie dear, you can be sure of this: however bad this seems, it'll soon be over. and if mrs. darling does scold, it'll soon be over too. it'll all be looking different to you in the morning. however things goes, you'll soon be forgetting all about it. and to-morrow is christmas day, that our own dear lord was born on, and i'll bake you a little cake and send it to you by sally."

[52]

"but sally's going to be sent away," sobbed tibbie.

"so she might be, but i feel it in my little toe that she ain't going to be."

"well, and if i am, i am, and there an end," said sally, bravely. "but i don't see why she can't take the price of the doll out of my wages and let me stay."

"i think you'll find," said mrs. bonnet, "that it ain't most particularly the cost of the doll gets you into trouble—there she comes this minute!"

the door-bell had rung. profound silence reigned above, while all listened. tibbie stopped crying.

"good-night," came mrs. darling's sweet voice, presently, floating up from the foot of the stairs.

"good-night," came the rev. dorel goodhue's.

there was a rustle of silken skirts.

"oh, cousin cynthia!"

"yes?"

"at ten, did you say—or half past?"

"i said ten—or half past. good-night."

[53]

more rustling of skirts; then,

"oh, cousin dorel—"

"yes?" from the foot of the stairs.

"it doesn't matter—what we spoke about, you know, unless perfectly convenient."

"oh, but it will be convenient, perfectly. good-night. sleep well."

"you too. pleasant dreams. good-night."

"good-night."

the rustling drew nearer, and mrs. darling stood in the doorway, looking with a sort of absent-minded astonishment at the assemblage in her room.

the violets were quite dead on her white bosom; her hair was beginning to come loose, and stood out in golden wisps about her flushed face. she looked very sweet and soft and shiny-eyed and pleasant altogether.

"what is it?" she asked; and as jetty was evoluting and clamoring about her feet she picked him up and kissed him like a mother. "has anything happened? what is everybody doing up here? whose little[54] girl is this sitting up so late? they used to tell me i should never grow, my dear, if i sat up so late—"

"this is what it is, ma'am," began mrs. bonnet; and she told her arrangement of the story, uttering her words as a mowing-machine cuts weeds.

mrs. darling abstractedly took the rocking-chair; as she listened, the pleasant, happy look forsook her face.

"oh, cut it short!" she interrupted, sharply. "what you have to tell is that the child there has broken one of the dolls, isn't it?"

there was an assenting mutter from mrs. bonnet.

"and you've kept her here, when she ought to have been in bed these hours, to bear the first beauty of my displeasure—"

mrs. darling had said so much in a hard voice, with an appearance of cold anger; here her voice suddenly died, and she burst out crying like a vexed, injured child. "i declare it is too bad!" she sobbed, quite reckless of making a spectacle of herself,[55] while all looked on and listened in consternation—"i declare it is too bad! it's no use! it doesn't matter what i do—it is always the same! it is always taken for granted i will conduct myself like a beast. who can wonder, after that, if i do? here i find them, pale as sheets, the five of them, shaking in their boots because a forlorn little child has broken a miserable doll. and what is it supposed i shall do about it? didn't i dress the hundred of them for children, and little poor children too? and i must have known they would get broken, of course. why did i dress them? what did i spend months dressing them for? solely for show, they think—not for any charity, any kindness, any love of children, or anything in the world but to make an effect on an occasion, i suppose—to make myself a merit with the parson, perhaps!" here her crying seemed to become less of anger and nervousness, and more of sorrow; one would have thought her heart-broken. "oh, it is too bad! one would imagine i never said a decent thing, or did a kind act, to any one. and heaven[56] knows it is not for lack of trying to change. but no one sees the difference! i am treated like a vixen and a terror. all the people about me hate and fear and deceive me! a proof of it to-night! oh, the lesson! oh, i wasn't meant for this! i wasn't meant for it! when i remember last sunday's sermon, and how straight to my heart it went—oh, i am a fool to cry! come here to me, dear child. what is your name? what? a little louder! what did you say? tibbie! oh, what a nice, funny name!" mrs. darling smiled through her tears, pathetically hiccoughing and sighing while she spoke. "you didn't think i was going to scold you, did you, dear? of course not! it was an accident; i understand all about it. i used to break my dolls' heads frequently, i remember very well—"

mrs. darling had put her arm endearingly around tibbie, and tried to make the child's head easy on her shoulder. but poor tibbie's muscles could not relax; her stiff little face rested uncomfortably, without pressing, upon its warm alabaster prop. "let[57] us see, dear, now, what we can do to make us both feel happier. i dressed all those dolls for little children i am not acquainted with at all. which of them should you like the very best? which should you like for your very own?"

tibbie could neither make herself move nor speak; but the tail of her eye travelled towards the dolls.

"the bride!" sally took the liberty of saying, beaming as she came to tibbie's aid.

"the bride? which one is that? that one? of course!" mrs. darling reached for the resplendent favorite and placed her in tibbie's hands. "there, my dear."

tibbie took the doll loosely, without breath of thanks; but while mrs. darling reviewed the dolls, her hand went out involuntarily towards the broken one. mrs. darling saw it. "of course," she said—"of course, you would want that poor dollie to nurse back to health. now, dear, isn't there one more you would like?"

at this tibbie's confusion seemed likely[58] to overwhelm and swamp her. "i'll choose one for you," said mrs. darling, "and you shall call her cynthia, after me. how would you like that? suppose we say this one, with the forget-me-nots? she looks a little like me, doesn't she, with her hair parted in the middle? her frock is made of a piece of one of my own, and that blue is my favorite color. there, tibbie, now you have two whole dollies and part of another. you must run right home to bed. a merry christmas to you, dear child. i am very happy to have made your acquaintance."

the exuberant sally talked like a clock gone mad all the way home through the clear wintry night; and since she felt inclined to conversation, it was well she could keep one up alone, for tibbie, who trotted beside her, holding fast her dolls, did not utter a single word.