"No," said Miss Terry. "Angelina did not worry about her lost doll. She was thinking about something else,—the nicest Christmas present that ever anybody had. But you were a good girl to bring back the doll."
"No, I'm not a good girl," said Mary, and her voice trembled. "I was a wicked girl. I meant to keep Miranda for myself, because I thought she would be a lovely big doll. And when I found she was old and homely, somehow I still wanted to keep her. But it was stealing, and I couldn't. Please, will you give her to Angelina, and tell her I am so sorry?" She took Miranda out of the wrapping and held her toward Miss Terry without looking at the doll. It was as if she were afraid of being tempted once more.
MARY RETURNS THE DOLL
Miss Terry did not take the doll.
"I am Angelina," she said. "The doll was mine."
"You! Angelina!" the child's face was full of bewilderment. Mechanically she drew Miranda to her and clasped her close.
"Yes, I am Angelina, and that was my doll Miranda," said Miss Terry gently. "Thank you for returning her. But Mary,—your name is Mary?" The child nodded.—"Suppose I wanted you to keep her for me, what would you say?"
Mary's eyes still dwelt upon Miss Terry with a puzzled look. This gray-haired Angelina was so different from the one she had pictured. She did not answer the question. Miss Terry drew the child to a chair beside her.
"Tell me all about yourself, Mary," she said.