"I would be willing to take the risk. I'm sick and tired of having to share everything I get with the whole family. Oh, you needn't look like that, Mary! You always have everything you wish for—whole carloads of it,—and I must say you are generous with your things. Before I would let a baby like Effie hold such a beautiful doll! But you can afford to be generous when you know that your father or mother or that grand uncle of yours will give you something better."
"But—but, Lucille," the look of wonder on Mary's face deepened, "you don't really mean that you would rather have all the toys and candy and everything all by yourself than have brothers and sisters to share them with? Oh, I am sure you can't mean that!"
"You will know what I mean well enough three or four years from now when those little sisters of yours cry for everything nice you have. But, no, you won't know! As I say, for everything you give away, you will get something better."
"As if Mary thinks of such a thing!" said Dora, hotly, putting her arm about the little girl. "You wouldn't be happy unless you were dividing up with someone; would you, Mary?"
Mary flashed her a grateful smile.
"I think that is why I have been so lonely sometimes, Dora. There is not much fun playing with dolls all by myself; for no matter how hard I pretend that they hear what I say, I know all the time that they don't. But my little sisters will hear me, and pretty soon they will be able to talk and play with me."
Then the wagonette turned in at the convent gates and rolled up the wide driveway to the front steps.
"Now, Miss May-ree, yo' go 'long in an' see yo' Aunt May-ree an' de Sistahs, an' I'se gwine obah yondah undah dat big tree an' wait fo' yo'."
"But won't you come in, too, Liza? Aunt Mary and the Sisters will be glad to see you, I know."
"I'll see dem byme-by, honey."