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parently dozing in her chair, and a keen-looking
young woman sat sewing nearby. The older
woman started up, though the girls had been
very quiet. "Is that Laura?" she asked.

Betty saw an anxious, lined face, not very
old but having large, troubled eyes with which
she scanned the girls, holding to the arms of
her chair and ready to rise.

"Not this time, Grandmother," replied Lucia
in cheerful tones. I came to show you the doll
that I'm going to dress for Christmas. Some
little girl that doesn't have a doll is going to
get it. The girls of one of my little clubs are
coming here to dress dolls this afternoon and
this is Betty Lee, one of my friends at school."

The wild expression had passed from the
elderly lady's face and she held out her hand
to Betty with a slight smile. Betty quickly
crossed the space between them to take the hand
offered. Oh, the poor, poor lady! Betty knew
that Mrs. Murchison's name was Laura. So she
was expecting her daughter to come. Hadn't
they dared to tell her that she never would
come?

"Let me see the doll, then Lucia," said Mrs.
Ferris, as naturally as any one, but she added,
"I can't see why Laura doesn't come. She hasn't
been in to see me today. But she told me yester-

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