Trembling with wonder, Mary Frances gravely wrote her name in the book. She opened the queer looking envelope, with printing almost all over its face, and read:
_Expect_ | _by_ | _Express_ | _Mary_ | _Marie_ | _and_ | _trunk_. | _Letter_ | _follows_. | | _Mother._
[Illustration: Wrote her name in the book]
“Oh! Oh! Oh!” she cried. “I know, Nanny dear, I know! Mary Marie is my dear new dolly. I do wonder what she will be like! Isn’t Mother too sweet and kind!”
“There’s the postman,” said Grandma, all laughter and smiles. “I wonder if he―” but Mary Frances was already at the door.
“Surely enough,” she cried. “A letter from Father. I’ll read it to you, Grandma―” tearing open the envelope:
_Mother bought for you to-day the prettiest doll in San Francisco, and she is going to send it by express, as soon as she gets some shopping done for the young lady. She will send a telegram when she starts Mary Marie on her journey, and will write a letter of instruction as to her health, wealth, and happiness._
_It is a delight to send the prettiest doll in San Francisco, to the darlingest little girl in the whole wide world―at least she is to her_
“Your Father meant that to reach here before the telegram,” said Grandma.
“San Francisco is so far off,” said Mary Frances; “but, oh, Grandma, isn’t it too lovely! Will Mary Marie have light hair and blue eyes, or dark hair and brown eyes, I wonder?”
[Illustration: “San Francisco is so far off”]
“I know she’ll be pretty, for Mother has such superb taste, as Father says.”
“Oh, I can hardly wait,” said the little girl, looking out of the window.
“Katie is a wonder, Nanny,” said Mary Frances. “She was telling me yesterday about all she could do when she was little. When she was a mere child she could cook a pair of pork chops beautifully, she told me.”
“But Katie is only eighteen, now,” laughed, Grandma.
“That seems awfully old to me,” said Mary Frances.
[Illustration: “You have a dear, sweet, heart”]
“Katie loves animals, too, Grandma,” she went on, “and so do I! Last summer, Nanny, when Father had Josie Worrell and his horse plow our garden, I went out and patted the horse’s nose. He was so pleased, you should have seen him wag his tail.”
Grandma laughed again. “You have a dear, sweet heart, little girlie,” she said; and taking Mary Frances by the hand, went out on the veranda.