"How lovely they are!" she murmured to herself, including even the plainest and least among them in her appreciation of the gorgeous company. "Don't I wish Ellie could see them!" she continued. "I'll have to count them, so as to tell her how many there are; for I don't believe that by herself she could imagine such a lot of dolls together."
Katy and Ellie had never had a doll in their lives,—that is, a real boughten one, as they called those not of home manufacture.
The kind salesgirl who had sent the orange to Ellie, from her post behind the counter, noticed the child's wonderment.
"Will you look at Cash!" she said to a companion. Katy was oblivious of them, however. After watching her a few moments, Julia called out:
"Well, Cash, which do you like best?"
The little girl looked the dolls over again with much deliberation; and finally, pointing to a good-sized one, with golden hair and large eyes, said:
"This."
"Oh, one of those ninety-seven cent dolls!" responded Julia. "They are handsome for the price. Sawdust bodies, to be sure; but what fine heads?—red cheeks, splendid eyes, and hair that will comb out as well as that of some costlier ones, I'll be bound."
"Ninety-seven cents!" repeated Katy, with a sigh. It was an unattainable sum, as far as she was concerned. The salesgirl remarked the sigh.
"Say, Cash, why don't you buy it?" she urged. "Your mother'll let you keep part of your wages for yourself Christmas week, won't she? And you wouldn't get such another bargain in a doll if you hunted a year and a day. You'd better speak for it quick, though; for when the rush of trade comes, there's no knowing how long the lot will last."