and had indeed formed her own ideal upon that model. Lili also joined her
sister in begging for the story, and even more urgently, for she knew
nothing about this friend, although she bore the same name.

"Was not I named for her, mamma?" she asked, and her mother assented. "You
all know the long manufactory under the hill," continued Mrs. Birkenfeld,
"with the large house surrounded by a beautiful garden. Lili, my friend,
lived there, and I remember very well the first time I ever saw her.

"I was about six years old, and I was playing one day in the parsonage
garden with my simple dolls, which I set up on flat stones, that I always
collected for seats for my children, whenever and wherever I found them.
For I had no such outfit for my dolls as you children have now, no sofas
and chairs and other furniture. You all know that your grandfather was the
pastor in Tannenburg, and we led a very simple life at the parsonage. My
playmates, two of the neighbors' children, were standing as usual by me
and staring at me while I played, without saying one word. They never
seemed to take the interest in my plays that I thought they deserved. They
stood and looked at me with their big eyes, no matter what I did, and it
was very annoying to me.

"Well, this evening, I was sitting there, on the ground, with my dolls all
placed in a circle, when a lady came into the garden and asked to see my
father. Before I could reply, a child whom she was leading by the hand,
came running to my side, squatted down by me, and began to examine
everything. I had so arranged my stones that each flat one had another
stuck into the ground edgewise behind it, so that the doll could be placed
leaning back against it as if it were a chair. The child was delighted
with this arrangement, and joined in my play at once with the liveliest
interest, while on my side I was so charmed with the little stranger's