"But maybe whoever it is won't stay long, and I can get back before you decide." Hurrying down the stairs, she went into the library, where Mrs.Sherman was waiting for her.
"This is one of our little neighbors, Mary," she said, "Girlie Dinsmore." A small-featured child of twelve, with pale blue eyes and long, pale flaxen curls, came forward to meet her.

To Mary's horror, she held a doll in her arms almost as large as herself, and on the table beside her stood a huge toy trunk.
"I brought all of Evangeline's clothes with me," announced Girlie, as soon as Mrs.Sherman had left them to themselves.

"'Cause I came to stay all morning, and I knew she'd have plenty of time to wear every dress she owns." Mary could not help the gasp of dismay that escaped her, thinking of that fascinating row of pink slippers awaiting her up-stairs.

From bridesmaids to doll-babies is a woful fall.
"Where is your doll ?" demanded Girlie.
"Oh, I haven't any," said Mary, with a grown-up shrug of the shoulders.
"I stopped playing with them ages ago." Then realizing what an impolite speech that was, she hastened to make amends by adding: "I sometimes dress Hazel Lee's, though.

Hazel is one of my friends back in Arizona.