clad dolls--black-haired dolls; golden-haired dolls; dolls from
China, with slanted eyes and a queue; dolls from Japan, in gayly figured
kimonos; Dutch dolls--a boy and a girl; a French doll in an exquisite
frock; a Russian; an Indian; a Spaniard. A second shelf held a shiny
red-and-black peg-top, a black wooden snake beside its lead-colored
pipe-like case; a tin soldier in an English uniform--red coat, and
pill-box cap held on by a chin-strap; a second uniformed tin man who
turned somersaults, but in repose stood upon his head; a black dog on
wheels, with great floppy ears; and a half-dozen downy ducklings
acquired at Easter.

"Much good takin' anything'll do!" grumbled Jane. Then, plucking crossly
at a muslin sleeve, "Well, what do you want? Your French doll? Speak
up!"

"I don't want anything," asserted Gwendolyn, "--long as I can't have my
Puffy Bear any more." There was a wide vacant place beside the dog with
the large ears.

"The little beast got shabby," explained Thomas, "and I was compelled to
throw him away along with the old linen-hamper. Like as not some poor
little child has him now."

She considered the statement, gray eyes wistful. Then, "I liked him,"
she said huskily. "He was old and squashy, and it wouldn't hurt him to
walk up the Drive, right in the path where the horses go. The dirt is
loose there, like it was in the road at Johnnie Blake's in the country.
I could scuff it with my shoes."

"You could scuff it and I could wear myself out cleanin', I suppose,"
retorted Jane. "And like as not run the risk of gittin' some bad germs
on my hands, and dyin' of 'em. From what Rosa says, it was downright
_shameful_ the way you muddied your clothes, and tore 'em, and messed in
the water after nasty tad-poles that week you was up country. _I_ won't
allow you to treat your beautiful dresses like that, or climb about, or
let the hot sun git at you."

"I'm going to _walk_."

Silence; but silence palpitant with thought. Then Jane threw up her
head--as if seized with an inspiration. "You're going to walk?" said
she. "All right! _All_ right! Walk if you want to." She made as if to
set out. "_Go_ ahead! But, my _dear_," (she dropped her voice in fear)
"you'll no more'n git to the next corner when _somebody'll steal you!_"

Gwendolyn was silent for a long moment. She glanced from Jane to Thomas,
from Thomas to Jane, and crooked her fingers in and out of her twisted
handkerchief.

"But, Jane," she said final