paused as she passed the mirror. Her eyes were so red that she knew she
would be questioned, and she concluded it would be better to wait until
she was dressed for dinner.

So she sat looking out of the window till the big hall clock struck six,
and then hastily bathing her eyes, she slipped into a fresh white dress,
and looking carefully at herself in the mirror, concluded that she had
waited long enough. To her surprise, she found her mother sitting up in a
big Morris chair by the window. Maybe it was the pink silk kimono she wore
that brought a faint tinge of colour to her cheeks, but whatever it was,
she looked well and natural again, and for the first time in six long days
the neuralgic headache was all gone, and the lines of suffering were
smoothed out of her face.

The wide glass doors opening on to the balcony were standing open, and
through the vines stole the golden sunset light, the chirping of robins,
the smell of new-mown grass, and the heavy sweetness of the locust
blooms. Lloyd rubbed her eyes, thinking she surely must be dreaming. There
on the vine-covered balcony stood a table all set as if for a "pink
party." There were flowers and bonbons in the silver dishes, and in the
centre Mom Beck was proudly placing a mammoth birthday cake, wreathed in
pink icing roses, and crowned with twelve pink candles ready for the
lighting.

"Oh, mothah!" she cried. "I--I thought--"

She did not finish the sentence, but something in her surprised tone, the
sudden flushing of her face, and the traces of tears still in her eyes,
told what she meant.