Aunt Abby gave it to me.

I can get a plenty more, and I will give it to her," insisted the little girl again.

Then suddenly, gaining more courage, she turned quickly, and, before the governess could stop her, thrust the doll into the other child's arms.
"Here, you _shall_ have it." The governess, with a cry of rage, made a spring for the child, but too late: the grimy little hands had clutched the doll, and turning without a word of thanks, the little creature sped down the road like a frightened animal, her ragged frock fluttering behind her.
"Why, she did not say 'Thank you'!" exclaimed the child, in a disappointed tone, looking ruefully after the retreating figure.
The governess broke out on her vehemently in French, very comically mingling her upbraidings of her charge, her abuse of the little girl, and her apprehension of "Madame." "Never mind; she does not know any better," said Gordon.
The child's face brightened at this friendly encouragement.
"She is a nasty little creature! You shall not play with her," cried the governess, angrily.
"She is not nasty! I like her, and I will play with her," declared the child, defiantly.
"What is your name ?" asked the boy, much amused by such sturdiness in so small a tot.
"Lois Huntington.

What is your name ?" She looked up at him with her big brown eyes.
"Gordon Keith." "How do you do, Gordon Keith ?" She held out her hand.
"How do you do, Lois Huntington ?" She shook hands with him solemnly.
A day or two later, as Gordon was passing through one of the streets in the lower part of the village, he came upon a hurdy-gurdy playing a livelier tune than most of them usually gave.

A crowd of children had gathered in the street.