“Don’t you think, mem, as ther’s likely to be adgink for all ther underclothes, cos us’d get more ef ther wasn’t.”
Miss Chatty was sure there would be plenty; and Nib and Meg went down the steps and away, at their leisure. “My! wasn’t them thar swell girls!” said little Nib, all aloud. “But I didn’t care; did you, Meg? An’ I seed derlicious dolls in ther,—I’ll bet ourn’ll have flouncers, or sumthink.”
Miss Chatty, hearing, resolved there should, at least, be “sumthink.”
Her little ladies all were looking at her as she re-entered the drawing-room. They were ready to burst forth into a breeze of fun and ridicule, or to be very sorry,—just which way their dear Doll Doctor gave the cue. She laid the bundle on the shelf, the pink calico by itself in a bit of paper, and wrote down the order. “Poor little waifs,” she sighed. “Think of it, children, how hard they try to be like other folks, and how much they seem to wish for something to love!”
There was a little hush, until Teresa Drew spoke. “I never thought of it, but I wonder what street-children do do for dolls!”
“Madame ought not to have to touch objects from the barrel of the ashes; it is very mooch disgoosted,” said Teresa’s French maid. She stooped and whispered to her little mistress. The child directly took out her purse, and laid a shining half eagle on the table by Miss Chatty’s hand.
“Please buy them both a nice, well-dressed doll, with plenty of ’adgink’ on the clothes. Who would think they could care for lace! We must tell mamma that, Hortense.”
Miss Chatty kissed her kind little customer. All her little ladies were pleased if she shook hands when they came, and very happy indeed if she twined a curl over her finger, or re-tied a sash,—for she had the dearest and daintiest of mother-ways. “My dear,” she said, “I think the little girls would feel tenderest toward the very dollies they have worked so hard to get. But I should like to buy clothing for the children themselves with your gold piece.”
The idea roused a creditable little furore of benevolence among the children. Every tiny pocket-book came open, and although there was no more gold, Miss Chatty soon became the treasurer of a respectable fund for the benefit of Meg and Nib, whom several now remembered to have seen as rag-pickers and match-girls.