Then she hurried on: "Can't no old orphans have
Honey-Sweet. You keep the dominoes and the book and the handkerchief and
the candy. And they may have my gold beads, too. But not Honey-Sweet.
I'd rather have her than Christmas. There--there's a lonesome spot she
just fits in."
"You'd rather give away your pretty new things than that old rag doll?"
Miss Farlow was amazed.
"A million times!" cried Anne, hugging her baby fondly.
"What a queer child you are, Anne Lewis!" said Miss Farlow. "Well, well!
keep your doll, of course, if you wish."
Anne gave her an impulsive kiss. "Thank you, Miss Farlow! You are so
good," she said.
The holidays over, the routine of daily life was resumed. The days and
weeks and months passed, busy with work and study. Anne welcomed the
mild spring days which came at last and allowed out-of-door games.
During the autumn, the boxwood playhouse had been a place of delight to
her and Dunlop and Arthur. Now, after a spring cleaning patterned after
Mrs. Marshall's, she and Honey-Sweet again took up quarters there.
One Saturday afternoon, however, Dunlop came strutting out in an Indian
suit which his mamma had just bought him and announced that he was "heap
big chief" and was going to have the boxwood for his wigwam.
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