The Tangled Threads
Mrs. Martin's tense muscles relaxed and she laughed hysterically.
"No, dearie, no! I—I have something to tell you," she answered, drawing the child to her and smoothing back the disordered hair. "What would you rather have—more than anything else in the world?" she asked; then, unable to keep her secret longer, she burst out, "I've got it, Penelope!—oh, I've got it!"
The little girl broke from the restraining arms and danced wildly around the room.
"Mother! Really? As big as me? And will it talk—say 'papa' and 'mamma,' you know?"
"What!"
Something in Hester's dismayed face brought the prancing feet to a sudden stop.
"It—it's a doll, is n't it?" the child stammered.
Hester's hands grew cold.
"A—a doll!" she gasped.
Penelope nodded—the light gone from her eyes.
For a moment the woman was silent; then she threw back her head with a little shake and laughed forcedly.
7
