toward the gifts piled around his plate. This was almost more than
Marcia could bear, for father was always specially tender and
attentive to her on her birthday. She always sat on his knee a while;
and he told her what a joy and comfort she was to him, and he always
paid her some pretty compliment that made her girlish heart swell with
innocent pride, for every girl knows that compliments from one's
father are a little sweeter than any others.

In vain she hung around waiting for some clue to this mysterious,
unnatural conduct of the family. They were all absorbed in plans for
spending this birthday--Marcia's birthday, but no reference whatever
was made to what she liked; no one consulted her as to what she wanted
to do, or to have done. The boys were going skating in the forenoon;
the little girls were to invite four of their friends to help serve
the first dinner in the new doll's house, and in the afternoon father
would take them all for an automobile ride into the country to a dear
friend's--all but Marcia, who couldn't bear to get into an auto since
a terrible accident she had been in a few weeks ago. A troop of her
girl friends came in, and in a conventional way wished her "many happy
returns" of the day; and then proceeded to ignore her, and gave gifts
to other members of the family. "It is a wonder," thought Marcia,
bitterly, "that they didn't have a birthday party for Marcia with
Marcia left out."

And so it went on all through that strange, miserable day; while they
were all busy celebrating her birthday, she herself was neglected and
ignored as she sat in the quiet house alone in the twilight--for she
had no heart to light the gas--just homesick for the personal love
which had characterized all her birthdays and all her home life
heretofore, there came a timid knock on the door, and as Marcia opened