When Mickey delivered the letter the lovely young woman just happened to be in the hall. She told him to come in until she read it, to learn what Mr. Bruce wanted. Mickey followed into a big room, looked around, then a speculative, appreciative gleam crossed his face. He realized the difference between a home and a show room. He did not know what he was seeing or why it affected him as it did. Really the thought that was in his mind was that this woman was far more attractive, but had less money to spend on her home, than many others. He missed the glitter, but enjoyed the comfort, for he leaned back against the chair offered him, thinking what a cool, restful place it was. The girl seemed in no hurry to open the letter. "Have trouble finding Mr. Bruce?" she asked. "Easy! I'd been to the same building before." "And I suppose you'll be there many times again," she suggested. "I'm going back right now, if you want to send an answer to that letter," he said. "And if it requires none?" she questioned. "Then I'm going to try to sell the rest of these papers, get a slate for Lily and go home." "Is Lily your little sister?" she asked. Mickey straightened, firmly closing his lips. He had done it again. "Just a little girl I know," he said cautiously. "A little bit of a girl?" she asked. "'Bout the littlest girl you ever saw," said Mickey, unconsciously interested in the subject. "And you are going to take her a slate to draw pictures on? How fine! I wish you'd carry her a package for me, too. I was arranging my dresser this morning and I put the ribbons I don't want into a box for some child. Maybe Lily would like them for her doll." "Lily hasn't any doll," he said. "She had one, but her granny sold it and got drunk on the money." Mickey stopped suddenly. In a minute more he would have another Orphans' Home argument on his hands. "Scandalous!" cried Leslie. "In my room there is a doll just begging to go to some little girl. If you took it to Lily, would her granny sell it again?" "Not this morning," said Mickey. "You see Miss, a few days ago she lost her breath. Permanent! No! If Lily had a doll, nobody would take it from her now." "I'll bring it at once," she offered "and the ribbons." "Never mind," said Mickey. "I can get her a doll." "But you haven't seen this one!" cried Leslie. "You save your money for oranges." Without waiting for a reply she left the room, presently returning with a box and a doll that seemed to Mickey quite as large as Peaches. It had a beautiful face, hair, real hair that could be combed, and real clothes that could be taken off. Leslie had dressed it for a birthday gift for the little daughter of one of her friends; but by making haste she could prepare another. Mickey gazed in bewilderment. He had seen dolls, even larger and more wonderful than that, in the shop windows, but connecting such a creation with his room and Peaches required mental adjustments.