some joke on her? She would be quiet and watch, and so not be taken
unawares.

Presently they went trooping happily downstairs into the dining-room,
and she heard father's voice say: "Good morning, children; I wish you
many happy returns of Marcia's birthday."

What did it all mean? Was she going crazy? Or were they just going to
surprise her by some novel way of celebrating her birthday? She arose,
and with trembling fingers dressed herself hastily, and stole softly
down the stairs, and looked into the dining-room. Hush!--father was
asking a blessing. He returned thanks for dear Marcia's birthday, and
asked that it should be a happy day for them all. Beside each plate
save her own, were various packages; and these were opened amid
ejaculations of surprise and pleasure, and sundry hugs and kisses.

After the first burst of happiness had subsided, Marcia braced herself
and entered the dining-room, saying with forced gayety: "Good morning,
dear ones all." They looked up with blank, unanswering faces, and
said: "Good morning, Marcia"--that was all. But Marcia's heart leaped
at the recognition of her presence, for she had begun to fear that she
was dead, and that it was her spirit that was wandering about.

She stooped and kissed her mother, who murmured abstractedly, "Yes,
dear," never once looking up from the presents she was examining. With
a sinking heart she turned away from her mother and went and stood
behind her father's chair, and leaning over whispered in his ear:
"Dear father, have you forgotten that this is my birthday?" He
answered kindly but absent-mindedly: "Why, daughter, am I likely to
forget it with all these tokens around me?"--and he waved his hand