"The waterproof is torn some," said Nelly: "I guess mamma'll mend it."
"Oh, never mind!" said Mrs. Williams. "This little girl's mamma is a very kind mamma: she can mend it."
When they stopped at the hotel, Nelly raced upstairs and burst into her mother's room.
"Mamma!" she exclaimed almost as breathlessly as Rob was in the habit of speaking, "mamma, give me all Mrs. Napoleon's clothes. The sick lady's bought a beautiful wax doll—just Mrs. Napoleon's size—her name's Mrs. Williams—I asked her—and she's going to send it to a little girl she loves very much—her own little girl's dead—and I want her to have those clothes too, because Mrs. Williams is so kind; oh, she's the sweetest lady! Give me the clothes, quick!"
Mrs. March was looking in a trunk for them while Nelly ran on. She smiled as she handed them to Nelly.
"Are you sure you will not want them yourself, Nell?" she said; "you might have a doll that they'd just fit."
"I don't believe I ever will, mamma," said Nelly, "and even if I do, I'd rather give these clothes away. Mrs. Williams is such a sweet lady—you don't know, mamma!" And Nelly ran downstairs with the package in her hand. As she left the room, Rob said to his mother:—
"Mamma, I bet she's bought the doll for Nell! Wouldn't that be fun? Nell's such a goose she'd never suspect any thing!"
"Hush, Rob!" said Mrs. March; "don't put such an idea into Nell's head. It isn't at all likely."