lie, as
soon as Mrs. Sherman had left them to themselves. "'Cause I came to stay
all morning, and I knew she'd have plenty of time to wear every dress
she owns."

Mary could not help the gasp of dismay that escaped her, thinking of
that fascinating row of pink slippers awaiting her up-stairs. From
bridesmaids to doll-babies is a woful fall.

"Where is your doll?" demanded Girlie.

"Oh, I haven't any," said Mary, with a grown-up shrug of the shoulders.
"I stopped playing with them ages ago."

Then realizing what an impolite speech that was, she hastened to make
amends by adding: "I sometimes dress Hazel Lee's, though. Hazel is one
of my friends back in Arizona. Once I made a whole Indian costume for it
like the squaws make. The moccasins were made out of the top of a kid
glove, and beaded just like real ones."

Girlie's pale eyes opened so wide at the mention of Indians that Mary
almost forgot her disappointment at being called away from the big
girls, and proceeded to make them open still wider with her tales of
life on the desert. In a few moments she carried the trunk out on to a
vine-covered side porch, where they made a wigwam out of two hammocks
and a sunshade, and changed the waxen Evangeline into a blanketed squaw,
with feathers in her blond Parisian hair.

Mom Beck looked out several times, and finally brought them a set of
Lloyd's old doll dishes and the daintiest of luncheons to spread on a
low table. There were olive sandwiches, frosted cakes, berries and
cream, and bonbons and nuts in a silver dish shaped like a calla-lily.

For the first two hours Mary really enjoyed being hostess, although now
and then she wished she could slip up-stairs long enough to see what the
girls were doing. But when she had told all the interesting tales she
could think of, cleared away the remains of the feast, and played with
the doll until she was sick of the sight of it, she began to be heartily
tired of Girlie's companionship.

"She's such a baby," she said to herself, impatiently. "She doesn't know
much more than a kitten." It seemed to her that the third long hour
never would drag to an end. But Girlie evidently enjoyed it. When the
carriage came to take her home, she said, enthusiastically:

"I've had such a good time this morning that I'm coming over every
single day while you're here. I can't ask you over to our house 'cause
my grandma is so sick it wouldn't be any fun. We just have to tiptoe
around and not la