“You said you would show me your doll,” went on Eloise when the window was closed again.
“Oh,” returned Jewel pleased, “did you come to see Anna Belle? She's right here. We were just going to have the lesson.” She took the doll from the depths of a big chair and held her up with motherly pride. “Would you—won't you sit down a minute?”
To her great satisfaction, her beautiful visitor condescended to take the chair Anna Belle had vacated, and held out her white, ringless hands for the doll.
“How neatly her clothes are made,” said the girl, examining Anna Belle's garments.
“Yes, my mother made her all new ones when she knew she was going to Europe, so that she would be neat and not mortify me. Would you like to see her clothes?” eagerly.
“Yes, I should.”
Jewel brought them, her quick little fingers turning them back and forth, exhibiting the tiny buttonholes and buttons, and chattering explanations of their good points.
“It was a great deal for your mother to do all this, when she is such a busy woman,” said Eloise.
“Yes, she did it evenings, and then surprised me just when we were coming away. Wasn't it lovely?”
“Very.”