Free Norton, Andre - Novel 32 by Ten Mile Treasure (v1.0) Page A

The odor from the box grew stronger—it was a very pleasant one. Christie sniffed at the folds of the material.
Yes, that was where it was coming
from.
    "Smells good!" Perks caught at the edge of the cloth and held it to her nose.
"Nice, like Nana's
old fan—"
    "Sandalwood!" Christie now remembered her grandmother's carved fan,
too.
    Under
the sweet-smelling cloth was a bundle wrapped around and around in more cloth.
The edges of that were fastened with dabs of
red sealing wax.
    "Here, let me."
    As
Christie held the bundle, Toliver carefully pried at the seals with the point of his knife until they broke so that Christie could unwind the wrapping. As that finally fell away Neal took
one astounded look and then gave a dis gusted
snort: "Nothing but just an old doll! What's all the fuss about that?"

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    "Not just a big old doll!" protested Christie, being very careful how she drew
away the cloth that
had been sealed for so long. "This is"— she tried to remember the right
words—"a French
fashion doll!"
    "So what's the difference?" Neal wanted to know.
    "Remember when Mother and I went to the doll show at the auditorium last
year—the one where all the collectors showed their old, old dolls? They even had a piece
about it in the paper."
    "I remember , if Neal
doesn't!" Perks cried. "I went, too!"
    "Mrs. Edwards, the lady from the church who sold Mother our tickets,
showed us some of the dolls she said were
worth a lot of money.
     

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at Ten Mile
     
     
    There was one something like this, dressed just like a lady of a long time
ago."
    "She even had a little umbrella," Perks broke in again.
    "Mrs. Edwards called it a parasol," Christie
corrected.
    "And a fan, and little gloves, and a purse, and real earrings in her
ears." Perks turned her description into a kind of chant. "Only we couldn't touch her—they had her
standing up in a big glass case."
    "That for sure—that dolls like this are worth a lot of money?" Toliver stooped for a closer look. "Hey, this one's wearing earrings, too. And a necklace—"
    "I think that's a watch chain. See? The end of it's tucked into her belt. Ladies wore watches like that once." Christie held the doll
upright, folding the cloth about her
to keep it between her own dirty hands
and the flounced and ruffled dress.
    "Lady Maude ,* * Libby said.
"That's the right
name for her, isn't it? She looks proud and important—like she's somebody."
    Lady Maude had puffs and curls of dark red hair, brown eyes, and lashes and brows of what Christie thought might be real hair, too—not just painted on. On the elaborate rolls and curls of hair perched a small hat with curled black plumes. The earrings that had been fitted into very tiny holes in her ears looked gold and

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    showed sparks of red stones. Her dress,
with all its stiff
ruffles and drapings , was dark green, her small boots black. And she did have gloves on, while a swinging metal purse, very small, was clipped to the belt of her dress. Around her shoulders was a black velvet cape lined in fur, and a small muff of the same fur had been fitted over one of her hands.
    "There's more in there." Neal pointed into the box. "Let's see what it
is!" He tried to reach
over Christie's shoulder.
    "Be careful! Don't you dare touch anything with those dirty hands!" she
commanded. "Libby,
you hold Lady Maude." She passed the doll to the Navajo girl and lifted up another layer
of packing. Again the sweet sandalwood smell was strong. What lay beneath were
Lady Maude's
belongings.
    There was a good-sized (for a doll) trunk with a high, rounded top. It was covered with leather and had a small gold-painted crown on the lid with M below. With that were two round hat boxes,
also doll size, two bags made of brightly colored
flowered material like carpet, a parasol, and a second, smaller trunk. Christie bounced she was so excited.
    "She has clothes, a lot of clothes!"
    "Nothing more?" Neal was plainly disap pointed.