- happy Rudanthy was a waxen young person
who was indiscreet enough to lie down before an open fire. You seem to be real flesh and blood, and might easily scorch, yet would hardly melt. Next time you take a nap, however, I'd advise you to lie on a lounge or a bed."
"I will. I wouldn't like to look like her. But what shall I do? I don't know a store here," she wailed.
"I do. I might be able to find you a new doll, if you won't cry," came the answer which surprised himself.
"Oh, I shan't cry any more. Never any more—if I can help it. That's a promise. But I shouldn't want a new doll. I only want a head. Poor Rudanthy! Do you s'pose she suffered much?" was the next anxious question.
"It's not likely. But let Rudanthy lie yonder on the cool window sill. I want to talk with you. I want you to answer a few questions. Sit down by me, please. Is this comfortable?"
Josephine sank into the midst of the cushions
