"Do you know, Irene," said Rosamund very slowly and emphatically, and taking the little girl's thin hand as she spoke, "that you are the most wonderfully beautiful girl I have ever seen?"

"But I know you are. I can read through people pretty well," said Rosamund, speaking in a low tone. "Now, I want to have a little talk with Miss Carter. Won't you go and play, and forget all about me, and let me have a chat with Miss Carter?"

Now, Irene had always despised dolls; but this living doll, with the pink cheeks, and the black eyelashes, and the soft hair, and the sweet little face, was altogether a different matter. The little one stirred in her sleep and breathed a name softly. Irene bent to listen—the name was her own.

"That you don't leave The Follies at present."