Miss Emily came in, hesitated a moment, then walked over to her niece.

In her hands she carried a beautiful doll with flaxen hair, long white robes, and the assured confidence of one who is spotless and knows it.
"There, Angelina," she said.

"I oughtn't to have burnt your doll.

I'm sorry.

Here's a beautiful new one." Angelina took the spotless one; then with a little thrust of her hand she pushed the half-open window wider apart.