with a ceremonious bow, and the proffer of his arm, which Ruth took
with great gravity.

"Aren't we grand?" she said in a satisfied tone. "It makes me feel
dreadfully grown up to have you treat me so politely."

"I'll stop then," laughed papa. "Fourteen is old enough, and I
don't want my girl to turn into a young lady just yet."

"Now shut your eyes, Popsy, and don't look until I get you into
your chair," said Ruth as they reached the dining-room door.

Her father obediently shut his eyes, and Ruth led him to his place
at the table. Then she slipped around to her own chair, and clapping
her hands said triumphantly, "Now look."

"Oh--o-oh!" gasped her father, almost before he had opened his
eyes. "This is truly superb. Ruth, you're an artist."

"Mary helped me do it," said Ruth, smiling at the pretty maid; "but
I planned it every bit myself. I thought I would make it a pink
and white birthday because pink is your favorite color."

Mr. Shirley looked at the pretty table with appreciative eyes. In
the centre a bowl of pink roses reflected in its shining facets
the lights of the pink candies which filled the candelabra at the
ends of the table. Broad, pink satin ribbons, with rosebuds and
maidenhair fern dropped upon them at intervals, ran from the flower
bowl in the centre to the comers of the polished table, and in front
of papa's plate was a huge birthday cake resplendent with pink and