"What a question!" cried Miss Wren. "How should I know?"
"Where is he coming from, Miss?"
"Why, good gracious, how can I tell! He is coming from somewhere or other, I suppose, and he is coming some day or other, I suppose. I don't know any more about him, at present."
This tickled Mr. Sloppy as an extraordinarily good joke, and he threw back his head and laughed with measureless enjoyment. At the sight of him laughing in that absurd way, the dolls' dressmaker laughed very heartily indeed. So they both laughed till they were tired.
"There, there, there!" said Miss Wren. "For goodness sake, stop, Giant, or I shall be swallowed up alive, before I know it. And to this minute you haven't said what you've come for?"
"I have come for little Miss Harmonses' doll," said Sloppy.
"I thought as much," remarked Miss Wren, "and here is little Miss Harmonses' doll waiting for you. She's folded up in silver paper, you see, as if she was wrapped from head to foot in new banknotes. Take care of her--and there's my hand--and thank you again."
"I'll take more care of her than if she was a gold image," said Sloppy, "and there's both my hands, Miss, and I'll soon come back again!"
Here we leave the little dolls' dressmaker, under the protecting care of her "godmother," the first real guardian she has ever known, and with a new friendship to supply her life with that youthful intercourse which has never been hers. And so in leaving her our hearts are light, for Miss Jenny Wren is brighter now, and happier now, and younger now, than ever before.