She felt along the entire
length of the shelf again. Nothing!
"I know better!" she almost sobbed. "My dear, beautiful "
She jumped up, feeling back on the shelf with her right hand.
Her fingers touched something, and it was not the rotting wood
of the tree!
"It's there!" breathed the excited girl. She flashed her lamp
around, searching for something to stand upon. There in the
corner was a roughly made footstool.
In a moment Nan had the footstool set in position, and had
stepped upon it. Her hand darted to the back of the shelf.
There was a long box, a pasteboard box.
Nan dropped her lamp with a little scream of ecstasy, and of
course the light went out. But she had the long box clasped in
her arms. She could not wait to get home with it, but tumbled
off the stool and sat down upon it, picked up the torch, held it
so the round spot-light gave her illumination, and untied the
string.
Off came the cover. She peeped within. The pink and white
loveliness of Beulah's wax features peered up at her.
In fifteen minutes Nan was back in her room, without being
discovered by anybody, and with the doll safely clasped in her
arms. Indeed, she went to bed a second time that night with her
beloved playmate lying on the pillow beside her, just as she had
done when a little girl.
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