Anne shook her head smilingly.
“No,” she said, “your doll. See, it is new. And it is larger than mine. Take it,” for Amanda’s hands were behind her, as if she did not mean to take the gift.
“It’s yours. Uncle Enos made it, and Aunt Martha made the dress,” and Anne held the doll toward her friend.
Then Amanda’s hands unclasped and reached forward eagerly.
“It’s a fine doll,” she said. “I do think, Anne, it is full handsomer than yours. Come, that I may show it to my mother. I shall name it for you, Anne. I have already named it. I shall call it Lovely Anne Nelson. Indeed I shall. I never had a gift before.” And Amanda held the doll tight and smiled happily at Anne, as she reached out to draw her into the house that Mrs. Cary might see the doll.
When Anne started for home, Amanda walked along beside her for a little way. When they neared the spring she put her arm about Anne’s neck and kissed her on the cheek.
“There!” she exclaimed; “now you know how dear you are. I was bad to you, Anne Nelson, right here at this very spring; and I set Amos on to tease you. And now you have given me a gift.”
“But you gave me the kitten,” answered Anne, “and I chased you away from the spring with sand and water.”
“But now we like each other well,” said Amanda. “You like me now, Anne?”
“Yes,” replied the little girl; “I would not give you a gift if I did not like you well,” and the two little girls smiled at each other happily and parted, Amanda to run home to her doll, while Anne went more slowly up the hill, thinking of the trip Uncle Enos was about to make and wishing that she could go with him.