"How would you all like to have some new dolls to dress?" asked Miss Jameson.
"Oh, Miss Jameson!" cried all three at once, "that would be too lovely! Did mamma say that we might have some?"
"Yes," said Miss Jameson, smiling to see their delight, "I have some money to spend for you in any way you like best. But I hardly think that you want dolls; you have so many already."
"Oh, but they are getting shabby," said Florrie; "and it would be so lovely to get new ones, and dress them all ourselves. I should like that work, Miss Jameson."
"I don't want a doll," said Harry, a sturdy little fellow of five; "I should like an engine."
"Well, I'll see if I can afford you one," said Miss Jameson; "but now, children, I must tell you that I have a grand idea in connection with these dolls."
"A grand idea!" echoed the little girls; "oh, what is it?"
"You know that my sister is a nurse in a children's hospital?"
"Oh, yes," said the children, for they had often heard their governess speak of this sister.
"Well, the ward of which she has the oversight is full of poor children, some of them the most miserable little creatures you can possibly imagine."