“Yes!” cried Katy, delighted.  “Sometimes I run errands for a dressmaker who lives in the block below us, and she gives me pennies, or once in a while a nickel.  And when my aunt’s husband comes to see us—­he’s a widder man and sorter rich; he drives a truck,—­well, when he comes ’casionally, he gives each of us children as much as ten cents; and I guess he’ll be round about Christmas time.  Oh, yes, I’m almost sure I can make up the twenty-two cents!”

“But, then, when the doll is yours, won’t you hate to give it away?” queried Julia; for Katy already began to assume an air of possession.

“Oh, not to Ellie!  And, you know, she’ll be sure to let me hold it sometimes” was the ingenuous reply.

The quick tears sprang to the salesgirl’s eyes, and she turned abruptly away, to arrange some dolls upon the shelves behind her.

“After all, love is better than riches,” she reflected, as the picture of the crippled child in the humble home arose in her mind, and she gave a sidelong glance at Katy’s thin face and shabby dress.

“You will be sure to save this very doll for me, won’t you?” pleaded the child.

“I can’t put it aside for you,” she explained, “because the floor-walker would not allow that; but I’ll arrange so you will have one of the lot, never fear.”

“But I want this one,” declared Katy.

“My goodness gracious, you foolish midget!  They’re all as much alike as rows of peas in a pod,” exclaimed her friend, a trifle impatiently.

“No,” insisted the little girl.  “All the others have red painted buckles on their shoes, but this doll has blue buckles; and I’m sure Ellie would prefer blue buckles, ’cause we’ve often talked about it when we played choosing what we’d like best.”

“Well, well!” laughed Julia.  “All right, Katy:  I’ll save it, if I can.”

Satisfied by this promise, the child ran away; for customers began to come in, and to loiter would be to lessen her chance of gaining the treasure which to herself she already called Ellie’s.

McNaughton & Co. did a great business within the next two weeks; the employees were “fearfully rushed,” as they expressed it.  Katy had no opportunity for further conversation with the sociable attendant at the end of the stationery counter, now given over to toys, upon the subject oftenest in her thoughts.  She had been transferred to another department; but every day she took occasion to go around and look at the doll, to make sure that it was still there; and the kindly salesgirl always found time to give her an encouraging nod and a smile.

One afternoon, however, a few days before Christmas, when Julia returned from her lunch she met Katy, who was crying bitterly.  The cause of her distress was soon told.  A new girl had been put at the counter that morning; she knew nothing about Katy’s doll, and now, as luck would have it, was just in the act of selling it to a big, bluff-looking man, who said he wanted it for his little daughter.