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It's Honey-Sweet's girl and a lady." Peggy opened the door. "Come right in," she said. Then she explained: "We was tryin' to get Lois back in bed. The doctor says she must stay in bed and she hates it, so she will get up and have a pillow-pallet on the floor." There the child was lying, tossing restlessly about, while Mrs. Callahan's machine rattled away as usual.
She soon solved, to her own satisfaction and Honey-Sweet's, the meaning of the name 'Home for Girls. "It's one of the words that means it isn't the thing it says," she explained. "Like butterfly. That isn't a fly and it doesn't make butter. And 'Home for Girls' means that it isn't a home at all, but a schooly, outside-sort-of place."
Thence she produced two generous pieces of pretty dimity, Honey-Sweet's was buff with little rose sprigs and Nancy Jane's had daisies on a pale-blue ground. While Lizzie was busy making doll dresses, Anne got a book with pictures in it and gave forth a story with a readiness that amazed Mrs. Collins. "Ain't you a good reader!" she exclaimed. "You read so fast I can't understand half you say."
She went to get a fresh apron, then, seeing that Honey-Sweet's frock was soiled, she selected a fresh frock for her doll whom she reproved severely for being so untidy and so slow about dressing. Louise, who was wrestling with Annette's curls, turned and saw Anne devoting herself to her doll's toilette when she ought to have been finishing her own.
I just did the things that Lizzie does." "Uh! Lizzie!" was the response, "that's diff'rent. She's at home. She works when I tell her if she chooses," Mrs. Collins concluded with a chuckle, for Lizzie had dropped her broom and was sitting in the middle of the floor pulling Honey-Sweet's shoes and stockings off and on. Anne went outdoors presently to look around the dear old place.
A little more, a very little more, and her work would be done. She would tie the bag around Honey-Sweet's waist and then surely the troublesome jewels would be safe. Suddenly there came a piercing scream from the bed beside hers. Mademoiselle Duroc's door across the hall flew open, admitting a broad stream of light. "What is the matter?" demanded Mademoiselle. "Who screamed?"
She untied the strings and took off Honey-Sweet's cap. Instead of a bald head with a few painted ringlets, there were wavy golden locks of real hair. It is no use to try to express Anne's delight. She couldn't do it herself. She laughed and cried and hugged first Honey-Sweet, then Mrs. Patterson, then both together.
So Pat was dragged from the display of sporting goods, and they hurried to the ladies' room where Mrs. Patterson was resting in an easy chair. She was pale but smiling. "I'm like you, Anne," she said; "I had forgotten what good times there are in the world. Before we go to luncheon, I want to know if Honey-Sweet's mother approves of her. I told you that her hair would grow, you know. See!"
Lois's face beamed when she saw this finery. "Can I kiss her dwess?" she asked, gulping down the bitter draught. "Bad medicine gone now. Oh, the pretty flowers!" and she counted on her fingers the rosebuds on Honey-Sweet's hat: "One, two, free, five, seben, leben, hundred beauty flowers." Mrs. Callahan was, as she said, 'flustered. Her thread snarled and snapped as she sewed on buttons.
"Take your medicine like a good girl," said Honey-Sweet's little mother, "and I'll let you hold my baby doll in your own hands." Lois opened her mouth to receive the bitter draught and then stretched out her arms for Honey-Sweet. She touched shoes and dress and hair with light, admiring fingers. "Pretty sweet Honey," she murmured. Mrs. Callahan breathed a sigh of relief.
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