resently they reached a large railway station. Mary knew all about
trains, because there was a bridge over William Street, and whilst she
played in the road they used to rush by overhead with a noise like
thunder. But she had never entered a train before, so that she felt
curious to see what it would be like inside. She thought it seemed very
nice, with soft blue cushions to sit upon, and windows to look out at.

Presently the train began to move, and looking out at the window Mary
saw rows and rows of houses which looked very much like those in William
Street. But when the houses were left behind Mary opened her eyes very
widely; she thought she had never seen anything quite so wonderful as
this! Not even the wonderful things she had seen the night Sister Agatha
carried her downstairs had astonished her so much! For there were no
houses, and she had never seen ground without houses until now.

She looked upon wide open spaces, with dozens of trees and oxen in green
meadows, and the consequence was that she began to ask so many questions
that Sister Agatha suggested that she should sit down and try to go to
sleep.

'Oh no, thank you,' answered Mary, 'I'm not at all sleepy. I'd much
sooner look out of window.'

'I thought perhaps you would like me to tell you a story,' said
Evangeline.

'Yes, I should like you to tell me a story!' cried Mary, and she climbed
down from the seat and nestled close to Evangeline's side.

VII

THE STORY OF THE LITTLE GIRL, THE DOG, AND THE DOLL

Once upon a time there was a little girl whose name was Bertha. She had
no brother or sister, but she had two very dear friends: one was a doll
with a broken nose and only half an arm; the other was a white terrier
with a brown patch on his back, a short stump of a tail, and a cold
black nose.

The dog's name was Samuel, and whilst he was very fond of Bertha he was
deeply attached to Moggy too; Moggy, you understand, was the doll. Moggy
might often be seen leaning against the nursery fender, with Samuel by
her side blinking solemnly at the fire. But every now and then he would
turn to look at Moggy, and put out his tongue and waggle his stumpy tail
from side to side on the carpet.

Though Samuel wore a handsome collar he had quite forgotten what a chain
was, for he had not been tied up for years. He never slept in the old
kennel outside the kitchen door, because he preferred the mat in the
hall.

Now, for a long time Moggy had sl