arms round her mother's neck, whispered,--

"I'll give mamma all these kisses papa just gave me, and some more
too."

And for a minute or two it would have been hard to say to which head
the showery golden curls belonged, or which pair of lips was the
kisser's, and which the kissed; while the Sun fairly danced with
delight as he wrapped the two in a beautiful golden mantle woven of
his choicest beams.

Mr. Legrange looked on, laughing, for a moment, and then said,--

"So Susan told you people get presents on their birthdays, did she,
'Toinette?"

"Yes, papa;" and the child, half turning from her mother, but still
clinging round her neck, looked at her father roguishly.

"And I guess you knew it before, and didn't forgotten about it, did
you, papa?" asked she.

"Well, yes, I believe I have heard something of the kind," said Mr.
Legrange, gravely considering; "but, dear me! did you expect me to
make you a present?"

'Toinette's face grew rather blank; and a sudden impulse turned down
the corners of her mouth with a little tremble across the lips. But
the instinct of native refinement and delicacy overcame the
disappointment; and, coming to her father's side, the child put her