"You poor little sufferer!" exclaimed the young man. "I ought to do something very nice for you, to make amends for causing you so much trouble. What kind of candy do you most like?—or mayn't I bring you a new doll?"
"Papa and mamma don't like me to eat candy," said Trixy with a sigh. "They say it's bad for my 'gestion. Have you got a 'gestion?"
The young man admitted that he had, but he hastily reverted to dolls as a more appropriate topic of conversation. Trixy looked troubled and finally said:
"Oh, dear! Something always goes wrong. I need a new baby doll awfully, for the kitten bit the head off of my littlest one, but, you see, papa and mamma says it isn't proper for young ladies to accept presents from gentlemen."
"Oh, I see—I beg a thousand pardons," Trewman gravely replied. "But would you object to my asking your parents' permission to give you a new doll—the finest one that I can find?"
"Do it—quick!" exclaimed Trixy, her eyes dancing and her hands clapping gleefully. "I don't think, though," she continued, after a moment or two of thought, "that I ought to take somethin' for nothin', for papa says that folks who do that are real mean."
"Something for nothing? Why, you dear little bundle of conscience, I'm to give you the doll in part payment for the trouble I have given you. Don't you remember?"
"Oh, yes! To—be—sure. Well, I forget my troubles as soon as I tell 'm, so—so you don't owe me anything."
Trixy looked sad as the promised doll began to disappear from her mental vision, so the young man said quickly: