"And I have none of it, none!" cried the unhappy child, and rising, she threw herself upon the bed, broken-hearted, and sobbed and sobbed.
Ellen heard her and came in from the next room.
"What is it, my lamb, what is it?" she asked, approaching the bed anxiously.
"Oh, Ellen, I can't tell you. I can never tell you!" wailed the child.
"Well, move over, dearie. I'll push Vera along and there'll be room for us all. There, darling, come in Ellen's arms and forget all about it."
Gladys cuddled close, and after a few more catches in her breath, she slept soundly.
When she wakened, the sunlight was streaming through the plain room, gilding everything as it had done in her rose and white bower yesterday at home. Ellen was moving about, all dressed. Gladys turned over and looked at Vera, pretty and innocent, her eyes closed and her lips parted over little white teeth. The child came close to the doll. The wonderful dream returned vividly.
"Your name is Vera. You had to," she whispered, and closed her eyes.
"How is the baby prince?" she asked, after a minute, jumping out of bed.