“What kind of a doll?” she asked in a business-like tone, showing no sign of recognition.  “For a small girl or a large girl?  And about what price do you wish to pay?”

“Doll for a middle-sized girl,” replied the customer, his twinkling eyes on the young woman serving him.  “I like large girls best, girls exactly your size and age, twenty at most, and warranted to look seventeen if given a day’s rest and a pretty hat and a supper at Sherry’s—­with the right man.  I don’t mind how much trouble I take looking for a doll any more than I mind the trouble of looking for a girl.  This is a little sister of mine who has to have a doll.  I like other men’s sisters better, but—–­”

“I think I know just what you want,” said Win briskly.  “If you’ll be good enough to wait here half a minute; I’ll see that you get it.”

Like a flash she was off, looking for Sadie.  But Sadie was too far away.  Win didn’t want the redoubtable Tobias to scold her for neglecting customers, as she had heard him scold Lily Leavitt the day before, when Lily was trying to flirt with Earl Usher.  Close by was Miss Lily Leavitt herself, looking bored to the verge of extinction by an old lady who wished advice in choosing five presents for five grandchildren.  “Miss Leavitt,” Win whispered, “would it be possible for you to take my man, who wants a doll for a middle-aged sister—­I mean, middle-sized—­and let me attend to your customer?”

Miss Leavitt threw a green-eyed glance at the man indicated, and said:  “Ginks!  Ye-h!” as quickly as she could draw breath.

The immediate and brilliant success of the stratagem was as reviving to tired Win as the encounter in the park had been.  Her splendid vitality came bubbling to the surface again, and she showed such an interest in selecting the five grandchildren’s presents that the old lady thanked Providence for the exchange.  No time, no trouble, was too much, and grandma joyously wallowed in layers of toys produced for her inspection.

Now and then, when the old lady was choosing between an aeroplane and a train of cars, or a schoolroom and a Noah’s ark, Win took an eyelash-veiled look at Miss Leavitt and her customer.  He had apparently bought one doll, veiled like a harem woman, and was hesitating over another.  The grandmother of five was not the only person needing advice, it seemed.  The brother of one middle-sized sister was evidently demanding it from Miss Leavitt.

In any case, their heads were close together over a Tango Tea doll who tried to look as if she had been dressed by Poiret.  It stood to reason that a man might want a woman to tell him whether that was the sort of thing a middle-sized child would like, but though their heads were bent over the doll, their eyes turned occasionally toward Miss Child.

“Keep the change and buy yourself and your friends some little thing for Christmas,” Win heard Logan say at last when, discouraged by the interminable length of grandma’s visit, he had resigned himself to go away.