“You stay here with the lady, Dolly,” said Dick, “and I’ll run out and hunt Michael.”
“Go on,” said the auctioneer, “I’ll look after Miss Dolly and her new friend both.”
The auctioneer had children of his own, and was greatly interested in his two young customers.
“What do you want of this affair?” he asked Dolly, after Dick had gone.
“To play with,” she returned. “I know we can dress her up and have lots of fun with her.”
“Perhaps I can find you some clothes for her here,” he offered; “she ought to have a hat and shawl.”
“Oh, never mind,” said Dolly, easily; “we’ll take her home, and I think Aunt Rachel’s clothes will fit her. If not, we’ll try Hannah’s.”
The wax lady was simply robed in a drab muslin slip, whose plainness contrasted strangely with the bright pink of her complexion, the large mop of yellow hair, and the waxen forearms—except for her head, neck, and forearms the lady was a sort of wire frame, more or less bent.
But Dolly saw wondrous possibilities, and cared not at all that her ladyship was so imperfectly arrayed at present.
Dick soon returned, and announced that Michael was outside in the wagon.