d to her mother, "and I am sure
is often homesick, and longs for her own little playmates."

"You must bring her out often," replied motherly Mrs. Evans. "I can
imagine how glad I should be to have some one take a little notice of
Dorothy if she were away from home."

"How long are you going to stay?" asked Dorothy, not meaning to be
rude, but like most children, wanting to crowd all she could into the
time.

"Till Monday evening," answered Edna. But it was not on the next
Monday nor the one following that which found Edna back again in the
city.

Chapter X

MORE SURPRISES.

"To-morrow," said Dorothy, "we will have a good time. We can play the
whole day long."

"That will be so nice," returned Edna, with a little sigh of content;
"I just love to play with dolls--don't you? I believe if I had a
hundred dolls I should love every one."

"I don't know about a hundred dolls," replied Dorothy; "but I know I
could love twenty-five. I am going to hunt up all I have--broken ones
and all. We'll get Agnes to help us mend them; then to-morrow we can
divide them, and you can have half while you are here," said the
little girl, generously.

So a delightful morning it was--choosing dolls, dressing them, playing
party, and all done in such a merry humor that Mrs. Evans and Agnes,
sitting in the room opposite the nursery, often smiled to hear peals
of laughter.

"Those children are having a good time," remarked Mrs. Evans; "there
has been nothing but peace between them."

"I thought they would suit one another," returned Agnes.

"I think I shall send them over to Mrs. MacDonald's this afternoon,"
Mrs. Evans went on. "Edna will like the walk, and I promised to let
Mrs. MacDonald know about some flower bulbs."

Therefore, after an early dinner, the two little girls set out to take
a walk over the country road to this neighbor's.

Mrs. MacDonald was a widow, who lived all alone in a big house,
substantially built of gray stone. She had once been a dressmaker, had
married when no longer young a man of wealth, who died a few years
after their marriage, leaving her very well off. She had no children,
was a little peculiar, but a thoroughly good woman, and a neighbor
whom Mrs. Evans much esteemed. She was very fond of Dorothy, and met
the little girls very cordially.

"Bless my little Goldilocks," she said, in greeting; "and who is
this?"

"This is Edna Conway," Dorothy informed her. "She is making me a
visit. O