"Mamma," said she, "what do you suppose Miss Pike said? She said of course I'd have some poor girls and sick girls. Must I, mamma?"
Mrs. Gray felt a sudden pricking of conscience. Why hadn't she thought of that herself?
"Poor girls, Mary? Sick girls? Why, of course, as Miss Pike says, they are the very ones to enjoy your party, my daughter."
"Then, mamma, please buy another dolly, and I'll ask Sadie Stockwell. She won't take up a great deal of room. She never goes anywhere except to school, and never has any good times. I don't know what we could do with her, though," added Flaxie, with a puzzled look, "and I'm afraid the other girls won't like it, for she can't play."
"But the girls must like it, my daughter. You have all done wrong not to invite her to your parties long ago, for she is an excellent child, and never rough or ill-mannered. As for entertaining her, you and Julia can talk to her and show her your playthings and picture-books, can't you? I'm sure, Mary, you'll all be happier if you have Sadie."
"So I think, too," cried Flaxie, and skipped away joyfully, her light curls flying as she ran.
Sober little Sadie, who lived with eight brothers and sisters in an old, worn-out house, dressed in old, worn-out clothes, and looked old and worn-out herself,—how her solemn little face brightened at the unexpected honor of an invitation to Flaxie's—no, Ethel's—party! Mrs. Stockwell, too, was very much gratified, especially as Mrs. Gray had sent Sadie one of Flaxie's dresses, a pretty blue cambric, which could be altered over to fit her, as well as anything ever could fit her poor, crooked little figure.
Happy Sadie! She rode next day with Preston Gray in the little basket phaeton, after Blackdrop, the pony, and she felt like rubbing her eyes to make sure she was awake. She smiled beamingly at the cunning little steed and his silver-mounted harness, and at Rover, trotting now here and now there. She smiled at her crutches, which lay across the floor of the phaeton; she smiled at the very mud-puddles which winked back at her sleepily from the side of the road. If there had been any grass, she would have thought it was emeralds; if there had been ice, she would have thought it was diamonds.
When Preston lifted her from the phaeton at his father's gate, and Mrs. Gray and Flaxie both came out to meet her, followed by Kittyleen, who was there, of course, she hobbled up the path with a sparkle of joy and expectation in her sad brown eyes.