“Does Molly play with her dolls?” asked Betsey.
“Yes, she sews for them, but they each need a party dress.”
“Can’t she make party dresses?”
“O yes, she can, if she has the proper materials. Now, you see a party dress requires some thin sort of fuzzy cloth——”
“You don’t mean fuzzy, Dr. Lawrence,” interrupted Betsey, smiling. “You mean soft and drapey.”
“That’s it. I see you know what a party dress is made of. And perhaps some ribbons and a little piece of lace. How about that?”
Betsey crossed the room, took one of the doctor’s big hands in both hers and gave it a hard squeeze. “I think you’re a perfectly lovely doctor, and I saw just what you were driving at all the time. And don’t you dare to go before I come back.”
And she went directly to the playroom, opened Madame Bettina’s box of cloth, and looked over its contents. She finally selected a dainty rosebud muslin with a pink border, a thin dimity covered with wreaths of tiny forget-me-nots, and a pretty yellow voile. She pulled out a length of baby ribbon to match each dress, and a handful of soft lace, and folded the whole carefully in white tissue-paper. Then she went down-stairs with such a sudden thought in her curly head that she sang a little tune all the way.
She burst into the library with her little parcel to find Dr. Lawrence talking and laughing with Father, and putting on his big fur coat.
“What’s up?” he asked, catching sight of Betsey’s shining face.