“We have other nice clothes,” Mary Louise assured her. “And our mothers said it was all right. So you must take them: we’d be hurt if you didn’t.”

“Honestly?” The girl looked as if she could not believe there was so much goodness in the world.

“Absolutely! Now—don’t you want to go in and try them on?”

“I’ll do it right here,” said Elsie. “These cedars are so thick that nobody can see me. And if I went into the house they might not let me out again to show you.”

With trembling fingers she pulled off her shoes and stockings, and the old calico dress she was wearing, and put on the silk slip and the green flowered dress. Then the white stockings and the slippers, which fitted beautifully. And last of all, the coat.

Her eyes were sparkling now, and her feet were taking little dancing steps of delight. Elsie Grant looked like a different person!

“Wonderful!” cried Mary Louise and Jane in the same breath.

“Only—let me fix your hair,” suggested the former. “It’s naturally curly, isn’t it? But you have it drawn back so tightly you can scarcely see any wave.”

“I’d like to wear it like yours, Mary Louise,” replied the orphan wistfully. “But it’s too long, and I have no money for barbers or beauty parlors.”

“We’ll see what we can do next time we come,” answered Mary Louise. “But let’s loosen it up a bit now and put your knot down low on your neck so that the hat will fit.”

Deftly she fluffed it out a little at the sides and pinned it in a modish style. Then she put the little white felt hat on E