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sped hands, and her eyes, half closed, looked sleepily out from under long eyelashes. "See! Here is a card," said Frieda, touching the soft folds of yellowed tissue paper that lay around the little figure in the tray. Hannah lifted the card with awe, and read: "The doll of Millicent Wadsworth, as she dressed it on her own Wedding Day, to be put aside and never played with more. The Bishop said it was a sinful Waste to dress her so, but my Husband said he did not care!" "What a reckless man My Husband was!" said Hannah, looking back at the doll once more. "Think of playing with dolls up to your wedding day! I wonder how old she was." "Let's look in the other trays," suggested Frieda. They removed the top one carefully, to find almost as delightful treasures in the next. Quite as delightful, perhaps, for here was the little Millicent's wedding-gown, with her slippers and necklace and high shell comb, all like those the doll wore. Here, too, was a card, but written in an older hand: "The Wedding Clothes of Millicent Wadsworth Berryfield, married on the 16th anniversary of her birth to John Berryfield, Esq., a Devoted Lover and Husband. She died three months and two days after of an Unknown Malady. John Berryfield returned to England, leaving these, Her Possessions, to be kept sacredly till he should come after them." "It's dated almost a hundred years ago. Of course, he is dead too, now. I wonder if she pined for her doll to play with." Frieda, leaving speculation to Hannah, was taking the pretty garments out, one by one. "Here is another dress!" she exclaimed. "A pink one. O, Hannah, you would look so pretty in this!" She held it up, quaint in style as the other, with a little train, flowered silk over a straight front panel of plain pink, tight sleeves with a little puff at the shoulder. "I wonder--Do you suppose we dare try them on? They look almost big enough." "Of course, we dare. Miss Lyndesay told us to do what we liked and she had peeped into this trunk, so she knew what was in it. We will be as careful as careful can be." They piled their arms with the delicate old fabrics and carried them down to their own room where they proceeded to dress up. It was not an easy process, for they dared not tug too hard, and Millicent had been slenderer than they, though quite as tall. The little slippers defied them, and the necklace of pearls they did not touch. "I think her husband gave her that, and n
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