But Miss Parrott made early choice, and lifting out a big doll from
one of the lower shelves, she laid it in Rachel's lap.
"I used to play with it," she said softly.
Rachel looked down upon the doll in her lap. It was long and hard and
angular as to body, and its face was a dull white, except some patches of
pink on the outer edge of the cheeks, showing the rest of the coloring to
have been worn away. Its eyes were staring up into Rachel's in such an
expressionless, unpleasant manner that she involuntarily turned away her
own.
"Her name is Priscilla," said Miss Parrott, looking down at Rachel, which
called her to herself and the necessity of attention to these efforts to
amuse her.
"Yes'm," said Rachel.
"Now I don't suppose you know how much I loved this doll," said Miss
Parrott, turning her back on the cupboard, to draw up a chair opposite
Rachel and seat herself upon it, "but I used to take her to bed with me
nights."
"Did you?" said Rachel, beginning to finger the doll with sudden interest.
"Yes, and I made her clothes and talked to her, and sometimes I called her
'Sister,'" said Miss Parrott, quite gone in remembrance.
"Oh!" said Rachel.
"You see, she was all I had. I was the youngest, and my real sister was
married and away, and my brothers were men when I was a little girl."
"Oh!" said Rachel again.
Pages:
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263