“What is the matter, dear?” and she kneeled down beside her little sister. But Millicent sobbed on.
“Tell me, Anne,” and she turned toward her little visitor.
“Millicent has lost ‘Martha Stoddard,’” Anne managed to reply, wiping her eyes, and feeling very much ashamed that Rose should have seen her cry.
“Nonsense! The doll isn’t lost. I saw it a minute ago. Come, Millicent; I’ll go with you and Anne for a little walk toward King’s Chapel,” and Rose held out a hand to each of the girls.
“Rose,” exclaimed Anne suddenly, “I know that you think I’m selfish about ‘Martha Stoddard,’ but Rose, listen!” and Anne looked up pleadingly into her friend’s face. “When I was a little girl, not as large as Millicent, and my mother had died, and my father and I were all alone, he made me that wooden doll! I never had anything else to play with until I went to live with Aunt Martha. It isn’t just a doll, Rose; it’s—why, it’s most like a real person,” and Anne’s voice sounded as if it was hard work to keep back the tears.
“You ought to have told me before,” replied Rose kindly. “You see, Millicent is too little to understand, and we all love her and don’t like to make her unhappy. ‘Martha’ is all right, and you shall have her safely back, dear,” and Rose’s voice was even more kind and friendly than usual as she told Anne of the new doll that Fred was making for Millicent.
“A new doll!” exclaimed Millicent happily, and could hardly wait for the time when Fred would finish it.
“So there goes my great secret!” laughed Rose. Anne was looking quite her happy self again, and Millicent was skipping along quite forgetting that she had ever wanted the wooden doll from Province Town.
“I don’t believe I like secrets anyway,” continued Rose; “let’s go back to the carriage-house and watch Fred make the new doll, and I’ll bring out the clothes I have made to dress it.”
Frederick looked up from his work in surprise when the girls entered the carriage-house. “Thought it was a secret!” he exclaimed.