I never had even a real doll," she added, as she snuggled the flea-bitten head to her heart. The galleries adjoining it were crowded with spectators,—so was the roof of a large tavern, then the only house standing at the end of the Edgeware Road,—so were the trees,—the walls of Hyde Park,—a neighbouring barn, a shed,—in short, every available position. "Why do you laugh?" she asked gravely. So he sharpened a score of pencils, and after fiddling about and rewriting the last page he had written the previous night, he plunged into work. " "Ah, yes. Jonathan had not deceived him. ” “That sounds very interesting,” she answered coolly.
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