Bertha is not a fool, and she
is not in the least fat. You are to come in and choose a doll for her."
The couple passed into the shop, out of view and hearing of the two back-
street children.
"My, he is in a wicked temper," exclaimed Emmeline, but both she and Bert
were inclined to side with him against the absent Bertha, who was
doubtless as fat and foolish as he had described her to be.
"I want to see some dolls," said the mother of Victor to the nearest
assistant; "it's for a little girl of eleven."
"A fat little girl of eleven," added Victor by way of supplementary
information.
"Victor, if you say such rude things about your cousin, you shall go to
bed the moment we get home, without having any tea."
"This is one of the newest things we have in dolls," said the assistant,
removing a hobble-skirted figure in peach-coloured velvet from the
window; "leopard skin toque and stole, the latest fashion. You won't get
anything newer than that anywhere. It's an exclusive design."
"Look!" whispered Emmeline outside; "they've bin and took Morlvera."
There was a mingling of excitement and a certain sense of bereavement in
her mind; she would have liked to gaze at that embodiment of overdressed
depravity for just a little longer.
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