"Why, this is what I saw last night," says she, crossly.
"Look at the foot of the tree!" says E. E., eagerly.
Cecilia looked, and saw the doll and the open trunk. Her lips drooped at the corners, her right shoulder lifted itself.
"A doll for me! The idea!" says she.
Cousin E. E. turned away, I think, to hide the tears that swelled to her eyes. Mr. Dempster saw it, and says he:
"Cecilia, your mother spent a great deal of money for the doll—don't be ungrateful."
"Just as if I wanted her to do it. Baby things!"
"Well," says Cousin E. E., trying to brighten up her face, "there is your father's present."
Cecilia untwisted the string of coral, and looked at it.
"Coral is for babies! That is worse yet! I just wish there hadn't been any Christmas at all," says she, a-flinging the beads in a lovely pink heap on the floor. "There now—I'll just go up-stairs and stay there!"