While they talked together, little Owlet suddenly appeared before them, ready dressed for breakfast. She had risen in her quiet way and made her simple toilet silently.
Then Roma produced her Christmas presents, a lovely wadded silk dressing gown for Madame Marguerite, and a workbox, completely fitted, for Owlet. Both were delighted, and declared—what all people declare to the giver of Christmas gifts—that the present was just exactly what the receiver most wanted.
“I am glad you didn’t give me a doll,” said Owlet.
“Why?” inquired Roma, with a smile.
“I don’t like dolls.”
“But why?”
“Because they are not alive.”
“Oh! But neither are workboxes alive,” said Roma, smiling.
“But workboxes don’t look as if they are alive, and dolls do. Besides, workboxes are so useful, and dolls are of no use on the face of the earth.”
“Not to play with?”