little German girl, learning to knit, and to help her in her task her
family wound for her a mammoth ball of yarn, as full of surprise packages
as a plum cake is of plums. Day by day, as her patient knitting unwound the
yarn, some gift dropped out into her lap. They were simple things, nearly
all of them. A knife, a ribbon, a thimble, a pencil, and here and there
a bonbon, but they were magnified by the charm of the surprise, and they
turned the tedious task into a pleasant pastime. Not until her birthday
was the knitting finished, and as she took the last stitches a little
velvet-covered jewel-box fell out. In the jewel-box was a string of pearls
that had belonged to Marguerite's great-great-grandmother. It was a precious
family heirloom, and although Marguerite could not wear the necklace until
she was old enough to go to her first great court ball, it made her very
proud and happy to think that, of all the grandchildren in the family,
she had been chosen as the one to wear her great-great-grandmother's
name that means pearl, and had inherited on that account the beautiful
Von Behren necklace.

When the knitting was done there was a charming birthday feast in her
honour. They crowned her with flowers, and every one, even the dignified
old grandfather, did her bidding until nightfall, because it was _her_
day, and she was its queen.

Closing the book Lloyd lay back among the cushions, smiling for the
twentieth time over Marguerite's happiness, and planning the beautiful
wonder-ball she herself would like to have, if wonder-balls were to be had
for the wishing. It should be as big as a cart-wheel, and the first gift
to be unwound should be a tiny ring set with an emerald, because that is
the lucky stone for people born in May. She already owned so many books,
and trinkets, that she hardly knew what else to wish for unless it might
be a coral fan chain and a mother-of-pearl manicure set. But deep down in