“Here comes the expressman!”
“Come, Katie, you help; we’ll carry it where the wrapping will make no trouble, out in the kitchen—and I’ll bring the dolly for you to see, Nanny, dear, soon as she’s unpacked.”
“You cut the string, Miss,” said Katie, “and I’ll pry off the cover.”
Surely
Mary Marie
was a lovely
doll
“Oh,” exclaimed Mary Frances. “I never, never saw so much tissue paper—thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four sheets—when will I get to her! Oh, there she is! Isn’t she a darling, Katie! And look, here’s her trunk!”
Surely Mary Marie was a lovely doll. She had beautiful long curls tied with pink ribbon; and on her feet were short stockings and slippers,—but her dress was a very plain, simple, “slip” of lawn.
There was a note pinned on Mary Marie’s dress, and a little key. The note read: