"
"Honey-Sweet!" exclaimed Miss Drayton.
"Yessum, lady. Wasn't that a funny name for a doll? It was the purtiest
rag baby I ever see."
"A rag baby, named Honey-Sweet!" repeated Miss Drayton. "Was the little
girl--what was her name?"
"Anne. Anne Hartman. She's niece to Miss Hartman, the head lady of the
Charity."
"Oh!" Could this be her little Anne? Or was there another child named
Anne with another rag doll named Honey-Sweet? Anne Hartman? And her
Anne had no aunt Miss Hartman. It was queer, very queer, and puzzling.
"What kind of looking child is Anne Hartman?" Miss Drayton asked.
"She's a little girl," answered Mrs. Callahan. "Tall as my Peggy, but
slimmer. Not pretty.--Well, I dunno. She's beautiful, times when she's
happy-looking. She's got a perky little nose and long, twinkly eyes.
Molasses-candy-colored hair. And her mouth--Peggy says it's like one of
our red rosebuds when they begin to open."
Ah! Whatever name and kinswoman she had now, that was Anne.
"Where does she live?" inquired Miss Drayton, eagerly.
"At the corner of Fairview Avenue, in the big old house that's turned
into flats. Was the doll too much to ask, lady?" asked Mrs.
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