“But, of course,” continued Mintie, fretfully, “you don’t have more than you can do yourself.”
“No,” said Miss Chatty, much relieved, “I don’t. But, poor little Mintie, you ought to have something nice to do!”
“Well, you need all the money, and I shouldn’t like to work, even at anything pretty, unless I was paid. I don’t wish to talk about work at all unless that is understood. You needn’t ever bring anything here to do just to amuse me.” And Mintie looked,—only think of a young girl looking as ugly as pictures of misers that you have seen!
As for Miss Chatty, she blushed clear up to her eyes. “My dear child!” she exclaimed. “How could you think I should be unjust!”
And then she went and stood in the door. The dear little old maid was dreadfully ashamed, and a trifle indignant, too, over Mintie’s bad manners and selfishness. But after a moment she reflected that probably the poor girl had no pocket-money at all, and couldn’t get any either; and she recollected also that it had been said that physical deformity often produced spiritual crookedness and halting. She tried to think of some way to help her. She thought of offering Nib’s and Meg’s dolls to make and clothe; but no, Mintie wished to handle only beautiful things.
All at once her dream came up before her, as pleasant as in her sleep, and it seemed to turn inside out and reveal its meaning.
She went back and kissed Mintie. Then she went home and kissed Sylvey and Teddy and sent them away. After that she made herself ready, and went upon another eccentric little journey among her wealthy friends.
It is said that Miss Chatty talked a deal of beautiful and flowery nonsense at every house where she called, all about the influence upon poor children of a flower to watch, or a bird to tend, or a lovely doll to love. She told everybody that she was going to send a missionary in the shape of a pretty doll to every ragged and dirty child in the city.
They laughed at the idea of the doll-mission; but as she begged at most places for nothing more than “pieces,”—bits of silk and bright woolens, remnants of ribbons and laces, the natural leavings of dressmaking, of which there is always plenty at every house,—Miss Chatty did not render herself very obnoxious.
But at three or four houses there was far more weighty talk; and from them Miss Chatty took away considerable money. Then she went down upon Vesey Street, and one of her friends among the merchants gave her a roll of bleached muslin, and the same good man also gave her a card of edging in the name of his little daughter. She then went down farther still, to Bleecker Street, where a jolly young importer of cheap toys sold her a gross of china dolls at cost.