I in return regarded her with all the gratitude and
affection which a doll can feel. My faculties as well as my feelings
were called into fresh exercise; for though I had no longer the wide
range of observation afforded by the daily crowd of strangers in the
bazaar, I had the new advantage of making intimate acquaintance with a
small circle of friends.

Having hitherto been so completely without any position in the world, I
could not at first help feeling rather shy at the idea of taking my
place as member of a family; and it was therefore a relief to find that
my lot was not cast amongst total strangers, but that I had already some
slight clue to the characters of my future companions.

My mistress, whose name was Rose, was sister to the Willy for whom she
had bought the paint-box, and also to Edward, the purchaser of the
tools. Geoffrey, the lover of tarts, was a cousin on a visit to them for
the holidays; and they had also an elder sister named Margaret; besides
their papa and mama, whom I had seen in the bazaar.

The first of the family to whom I was introduced was Willy, and I soon
became much interested in him. He was a pale thin boy, who spent the day
on a sofa, to and from which he was carried in the morning and at night.
In fine weather he went out in a wheel-chair; but he was unable to move,
without help, and was obliged to endure many privations. Though he often
looked suffering and weary, he was cheerful and patient, and always
seemed pleased to hear other children describe enjoyments in which he
could not share. Every body was fond of Willy, and anxious to amuse and
comfort him. All that happened out of doors was told to him; all the
kindest friends and pleasantest visitors came to see him; the new books
were brought to him to read first; the best fruit and flowers always set
apart for him; and all the in-door occupations arranged as much as
possible with a view to his convenience. He and his little sister Rose
were the dearest friends in the world, and certain to take part in
whatever interested each other. As soon as Rose brought me home from the
Pantheon, she ran up stairs with me to Willy, whom I then saw for the
first time, sitting on the sofa with his feet up, and a table before
him, on which stood several books, and my old acquaintances the
paint-box and the chest of tools.

'Look at this, Willy; is not this pretty?' exclaimed Rose, laying me
down on his open book.

Willy looked up with a pleasa