those less fortunate than
herself.

"What's the matter?" said Clementine, dismayed by Patty's expression of
remorse.

"I'm a pig!" said Patty; "there's no other word for such a horrid thing
as I am! Why, Clementine, I've made presents for nearly everybody I know,
and I haven't done a thing for charity! Did you ever know such an
ungrateful wretch?"

"Oh, it isn't too late, yet," said Clementine, not quite understanding
why Patty was so serious about it; "here, help me sew these."

She tossed her some tiny satin sleeves, already cut and basted, and
offered a furnished work-basket.

"'Deed I will!" said Patty, and in a few moments she too was sewing, as
deftly, if not quite so rapidly, as Clementine.

"You see, Clem," she went on, "I've been so busy ever since I came home,
that I simply forgot the poor people. And now it's too late."

"It's too late to make things," agreed Clementine, "but not too late to
buy them."

"But I've spent all my Christmas money," said Patty, contritely. "Father
gives me a liberal allowance, and then extra, for Christmas money. And
it's just about all gone, and I hate to ask him for more."

"Well, never mind, Patsy, you can make up for it next year. And if you
help me dress these dolls, that will square up your conscience."

"No, it won't. But I'll find a way to do something, somehow. Are these
Sunshine people all babies?"

"Oh, no; the society helps all sorts of poor people, children and
grown-ups too. Mother is one of the directors, and we do a lot of this
doll-dressing every year."

"Well, I'll help you a while this afternoon, but I won't have another
chance. You see just about every moment is taken up from now till
Christmas."

"You're going to the Farringtons', aren't you?"

"Yes, for three or four days, while Nan and father are in Philadelphia at
Nan's mother's. You're coming to the Christmas Eve dance, of course?"

"Yes, indeed. It's to be a lovely party. The Farringtons always have such
beautiful entertainments. Now, Patty, do tell me about your trip."

So Patty told many tales of her stay in Paris and in England, and of her
pleasure trip through Italy, and as she talked, her fingers flew, and she
had soon completed three doll dresses, that were quite as pretty and
well-made as Clementine's.

"Now, I must go," she said, at last. "I'm glad to have been of a little
help, and next year I'll help you a lot. Though, I suppose your Sunshine
Babies _could_ have dolls when i