"The things will have to be made very neatly," said the governess; "you will need to take pains, Florrie. The dolls must be well turned out, or I shall be ashamed to send them as your gift to the children's hospital."
"And we must make all the clothes to unfasten, mustn't we?" said Gertie; "it is no fun to play with a doll unless you can dress and undress it."
"To be sure not," said Florrie. "When shall we get the dolls, Miss Jameson?"
"To-morrow after school, if you do your lessons well," she replied; "but now, Florrie, remember that that duster must be finished before you begin your doll's clothes."
"Oh, dear! that horrid duster!" exclaimed Florrie, impatiently. But she fetched it, and sat down to her hemming.
"Oh, I wish to-morrow would make haste and come," said Gertie, as she turned over the heap of Christmas cards that Kate had tossed on to the table.
"Suppose it should rain," suggested Kate. But that was too sad a prospect to contemplate.
As they continued to discuss their delightful plans, the children quite forgot to ask Miss Jameson to tell them a story, and they could hardly believe that it was bed-time when the clock struck eight. All but Florrie, who gave a sigh of relief as, her hem complete, she folded up the tiresome duster.