“Certainly,” said Diana. “They are just as much people as the Rhode Island Reds are.”
“Indeed, they are not,” said Peggy. “My darling Rhode Island Reds are alive.”
“Your Rhode Island Reds could be killed and eaten,” said Alice. “Nobody would eat a doll any more than they would a person. And they look like people, and the Rhode Island Reds don’t.”
It was hard for Peggy to have Alice and Diana sleep together without wanting her. It was the first time in her life that she had not slept with Alice the night before her birthday. In fact, the only times she could remember their being separated at night was when Alice had the measles, and one other time, when she herself had gone for a short visit to her grandmother with her father. And the worst of it was, there was plenty of room for three in the wide bed, if it were not for the room those ridiculous dolls took up. Diana was her intimate friend just as much as she was Alice’s. Indeed, even more, because they liked to read the same books and to write stories. Diana was nearer her age than Alice’s; and yet, Alice liked to have these stupid dolls sleep with her better than her own flesh-and-blood sister!
Mrs. Owen noticed that Peggy looked very sober at supper time, and, while she was helping with the dishes, she said, “What is my little girl looking unhappy about?”
“Do I look unhappy, mother?”
“Yes, what is the trouble?”
Then Peggy told her the whole story.
“Now, Peggy, let’s sit right down and see what we can do about it,” said Mrs. Owen. “You are jealous because Alice wants Diana all to herself. It is very natural, but it is not a nice feeling.”
“I am not jealous of Diana,” said Peggy; “but I just can’t stand having Alice like to play with dolls better than to play with me. I could tell them fairy-stories, and see things on the wall.”