She looked at me very hard, and asked me a lot of questions,
all about my mother and lots of things; and Miss Barnes told me to
bring my Bible that belonged to my mother and show it to the lady, and
when she saw my mother's name, 'Agnes Wallace, from her loving mother,
Margaret Wallace, Glasgow, Scotland,' she said, 'Why, she has my name,
Margaret, and she has Scotch blood in her, the same as I and my
husband. She shall be my own little lassie!' That was what my mother
called me, Mrs. Ryan used to say, and it sounded so natural. So she
told me her name was Mrs. MacDonald, and asked me if I would like to
be her own little girl, and--O, Edna! I was so glad. And that was
three days ago. And O, it was like a dream, for when I got here who
should run and meet me but dear old Mrs. Ryan. She told me my father
died just after my mother did, and that nobody had a claim on me, so I
could be Margaret MacDonald forever and ever."

"Well, chatterboxes," here a voice interrupted, "have you had your
talk out? We must be going," and Mrs. Evans, with Mrs. MacDonald,
entered the room.

Edna ran toward the latter. "O, Mrs. MacDonald," she cried, "I do want
to kiss you. You won't be lonely any more, will you?"

"No, I think not," replied Mrs. MacDonald, "and I don't want my little
daughter to be. So Mrs. Evans has promised that you and Dorothy shall
spend day after to-morrow with us."

This was a delightful prospect, and Edna declared that the drive and
the pleasure of seeing Maggie had made her feel entirely well.

"I can't get over it," she said. "To think of Maggie's living in that
dear old house, and having that great big garden to play in and being
just like any nice little girl. O, it is just too lovely for
anything."

That was a happy day which the three little girls spent together.
Margaret--as the two others delighted to call her--brought out the
doll which had been awarded her at the fair, to be displayed to
Dorothy's interested eyes.

"I must tell Miss Martin. She will be so glad," said Edna. "And O,
Margaret, you must have Moggins. I shall have to send him out to you;"
but there was a tinge of regret in her tone.

"Will Mrs. MacDonald let you keep him?" asked Dorothy, turning to
Margaret.

[Illustration]

"I'll go and ask her," decided Edna, and straightway took herself to
Mrs. MacDonald, and was not long in winning her consent. But Margaret
was not willing to rob her friend at once of such an amusing companion
as