attire,
but looking rather woe-begone, if less self-satisfied and vulgar, for
new clothes "to take on and off," and of irreproachable good taste, are
not to be fashioned by little fingers in a day--was reposing in
Butter-ball's fat arms. They "took turns" of her, as was the fairest
arrangement under the circumstances of six little girls and only one
doll; and, true to the sound philosophy of her being "better than
nothing," a certain half-contemptuous affection for her had taken the
place of the first dislike.

Suddenly--rat-tat-tat at the front knocker.

"The postman," said Helen. "_Possibly_ there may be a Christmas card for
us."

It was for "us," but it was not a card. No; a letter, addressed outside
to Helen as the eldest, but inside beginning "My six dear little
nieces."

"From Aunt Ginevra," Helen exclaimed; "and oh, she is coming home at
last. And oh, oh, just fancy, we are all to go to live with her.
And--and----"

"Read it aloud," said Jinny quickly. But Helen was all trembling with
excitement. Jinny seized it and read.

Delightful news truly for the six imprisoned princesses!

"She _must_ be nice," said Jinny; "she writes so sweetly. And what can
the presents be that she says she is sending us for Christmas?"

Agatha looked over her shoulder.

"I have chosen what I think would have pleased me most when I was a
little girl. The box is sent off by express from Paris, where your uncle
and I are resting for a few days, so that you may have it by Christmas.
And before the new year begins, my darlings, I hope to be at last with
you."

Rat-tat-tat again. The railway van this time. Such a big box comes up to
the nursery. Dear, dear, what a business to get it opened. How the six
pairs of eyes shine, how the six pairs of hands tremble with eagerness
as each undoes her own specially marked parcel. And oh, the cries of
delight at last! What could be lovelier, what more perfect, than the six
exquisite dolls, each more beautiful than her sisters!

"Real wax, real hair, real everysing," cries Princess Baby.

"One suit of clothes ready, taking off and on ones, and lots of stuff to
make more," adds Butter-ball.

"Oh, how sweet Auntie must be, how happy we are going to be!" cry all.

But Jinny's face is sad.

"My poor, ugly dolly," she murmurs. "And oh, what shall I say if Auntie
asks for my jug?"

"We'll tell her--all of us together. It was all for our sakes you did
it, and so she can't be angry," say the