As she held her closely, suddenly she thought of Mr. John. If he had
objected to the petting of babies, what would he say to dolls? She
gave her a frantic kiss, put her away, and turned her back on her
to reflect; for she did not mean to shirk the most disagreeable
reflections in the new line of duty she had chosen to follow.

If it had really been a human friend whose destinies Mollie
considered, she could not have been more serious; and if it had been
a human friend whom she at last decided must be put far from her, she
could hardly have suffered severer heart-pangs. But she would have no
compromising with inclination in this matter. She would be brave and
strong, as it became her mother's son to be. So to the lowest depths
of the deepest trunk in the garret she mentally consigned Helena.
There, beyond the reach of her loving eyes and arms, she should lie in
banishment until her heart became callous.

But there was something so repulsive in the idea of smothering human
Helena under layers of old garments, that Mollie finally thought of a
better way. Helena should no longer be Helena, dear to her heart in
all her little feminine adornings and her sympathetic, tender traits
of character. She should undergo a change; a radical reform. She, too,
should become a boy, and her name should be Thomas. Thenceforth Mollie
spent her leisure moments in manufacturing garments suitable for the
change; and at last she saw a boy-doll, in roundabout and pantaloons,
occupying the chair where Helena had so long sat in dainty dresses.
The sight was a perpetual offense to her eyes; but she bore it
bravely, keeping in store for herself a reward of merit in Mr. John's
approval. She did not fail to mention to him Helena's reform the
next time they met, which was one morning before breakfast. She was