doll could be. Nearly all my hair was cut short, my
hat had fallen off in the fray, and I found myself in a position of much
discomfort, and even danger. I could see nothing that went on in the
room, and the heat of the stove was fast melting my beautiful
complexion. I tried to look like a Princess, but it was hard.

The nursery-door opened, and the little girl came back. In a minute she
ran up to the chair where she had left me, and then looked at her
brother.

"Where's dolly?" she cried, and she looked anxiously round.

"I shan't tell you," said Bertie, beginning to look frightened.

"Oh, dolly, dolly; where is my dolly?" cried the little girl, and how I
longed for a voice that could answer her. I could hear her going all
round the room, pulling open drawers and cupboards, and hunting for me,
but I never said a word.

Suddenly I heard a cry. She had come to the hearth-rug, where lay the
scissors, and nearly all my beautiful flaxen curls on the floor.

[Illustration: "SO THEY MADE IT UP" (_p. 81_).]

"Oh, my dear dolly! my dear dolly! He's cut off her hair. Oh, you cruel
boy!" cried the little Queen, and she sat down and cried as if her heart
would break. Then she glanced up, and caught sight of where I lay,
placidly reposing on the mantel-piece with my eyes turned up to the
ceiling. In a moment she was upon a chair, and ready to fetch me down,
when what with the chair being unsteady, and her eyes being full of
tears, the chair slipped beneath her, and down she fell on the floor.

[Illustration: THE DISCONTENTED KINGFISHER. (_See p. 81._)]

Poor little Queen, she was in a very bad way! Her head fell against the
fender, and hurt her very much, she sobbed and cried both with the
fright and the pain. Nurse came running up, and took her on her knee,
and it was a long time before she could console her.

"My dolly, my dolly!" she cried between her tears, and the nurse took me
down from the mantel-piece, and gave me to her. How she did cry over me!
I felt dreadfully vexed, because tears are fatal to my complexion.

Bertie stood looking on frightened, and came up to look at his sister.

"Go away, you naughty boy," cried nurse; "it's all your doing, and your
sister will make herself ill with crying."

When my little Queen heard Bertie being blamed she grew very quiet all
at once. She gave her eyes a final wipe with her handkerchief, and she
got off nurse's knee, and turned to Bertie. Bertie was crying too, and
he