Eleanor sat down and watched Mrs. Law’s swift movements.
“Could I see Flora?” she asked after a few moments’ silence.
Mrs. Law smiled.
“Why certainly. I think she is in her crib over there in the corner.”
Eleanor looked and saw no crib, but she caught sight of Flora’s placid face peeping above the side of the overturned footstool which served as her bed, and she went over and lifted the doll out. She was not a beautiful creature, she reflected; not near so pretty as Rubina, but she appreciated Cassy’s devotion to her, and she held her tenderly in her lap till Cassy returned.
“I would like to give her one of mine,” she thought, “but it wouldn’t be her own child, after all, and she cares just as much for her Flora as I do for my Rubina.”
Cassy looked pleased to see Flora receive this attention from her visitor, and was more pleased still when Eleanor insisted upon putting the doll up on the window-sill where, as she said, she could look out and see them drive off. At the door Eleanor turned:
“Good-bye, Mrs. Law,” she said. “I wish you could go, too,” and then she followed Cassy down-stairs, glad to get out of the ill-smelling house.
The fairy god-mother, the pumpkin coach, and all the other fairy delights seemed to have come to Cassy as she stepped into the carriage. The children of the neighborhood stared open-mouthed at the spectacle of Oddity Law going to drive in a fine carriage. For the moment she was a creature further removed from them than ever. No wonder she was queer, if she could have friends like the pretty little girl at her side.
Cassy was quite conscious of the excitement they were causing, for even the women who lived near by, stood, arms akimbo, to stare after them. Cassy felt a strong desire for a hat as pretty as Eleanor’s; hers was only a plain little sailor hat, but it was inconspicuous, and was really much more suitable than a gayer one, but Cassy did not know that.