“Yes, a wax doll. But I don’t think it could be a doll, for that could have been got already for a birthday present, and this is quite an extra present, isn’t it?” said Leigh.
“Yes, quite extra,” said nurse. “But now it’s Master Artie’s turn.”
Artie’s ideas were very jumbled. He did not keep the inside of his head in nearly such good order as Leigh kept his. First he guessed “a fine day for Mary’s birthday,” as if any “guessing” could be needed for a thing which was already there before their eyes. Then he guessed a very big cake for tea, which was not a very clever guess, as a nice big cake on a birthday was an “of course.” So now it came to Mary’s own guesses. She looked up eagerly.
“For us all to be doo—” Then with a great effort, for Mary was growing a big girl and wanted to speak quite rightly, “to be g-ood all day. Kite g-ood.”
“That would be very nice,” said nurse, “and I hope it will come true, but that’s more wishing than guessing, Miss Mary. It’s something that’s come, not going to come, that I want you to guess about.”
Mary’s face grew very grave. Then it smiled again.
“I know,” she said, “mamma’s headache to g-go away, now, jimmedjetly, and then we’ll go and see her.”
“I hope it will,” said nurse. “But that wasn’t the guess.”
She saw that Mary was too little quite to understand.
“See if I can’t help you,” she said. “What would you like best of anything? Don’t you think a doll that could learn to speak and love you and play with you would be a nice birthday present?”