Dot gasped and seized the Alice-doll, hugging it close against her breast; her action was involuntary, but it did not signal the smallest Kenway girl’s selfishness. No, indeed! Of course, she could not have given away that possession, but there were others.
She looked down the row of her china playmates—some small, some big, some with pretty, fresh faces, and some rather battered and with the color in their face “smootchy.”
“Which could we give her, Dot?” whispered Tess, doubtfully. “There’s my Mary-Jane——”
The older sister proposed to give up one of her very best dolls; but Mary-Jane was not pink and pretty. Dot stepped up sturdily and plucked the very pinkest cheeked, and fluffiest haired doll out of her own row.
“Why, Dot! that’s Ethelinda!” cried Tess. Ethelinda had been found in Dot’s stocking only the previous Christmas, and its purchase had cost a deal of scrimping and planning on Ruth’s part. Dot did not know that; she had a firm and unshakable belief in Santa Claus.
“I think she’ll just love Alf’edia,” declared Dot, boldly. “I’m sure she will,” and she thrust the doll suddenly into the colored girl’s open arms. “You’ll just take good care of her—won’t you, Alf’edia?”
“My goodness!” ejaculated Alfredia. “You w’ite gals don’ mean me ter keep this be-you-ti-ful doll-baby? You don’t mean that?”
“Of course we do,” said Tess, briskly, taking pattern after Dot. “And here’s a spangled cloak that belonged to one of my dolls, but she hasn’t worn it much—and a hat. See! they both fit Ethelinda splendidly.”
Alfredia was speechless for the moment. She hugged her new possessions to her heart, and her eyes winked hard. Then she grinned. Nobody or nothing could quench Alfredia’s grin.
“I gotter git home—I gotter git home ter mammy,” she chattered, at last. “I cyan’t nebber t’ank you w’ite chillen enough. Mammy, she done gotter thank yo’ for me.”