her so busily occupied, soon stole out. And there was the head waiter
waiting for her in the dining room, and Polly never heard a word they
said, although "cake" was mentioned a great many times, and several
other things too.

But the next morning Polly Pepper woke up to the fact that it was her
birthday. For there was Mamsie leaning over her pillow, the first thing
she saw the minute her eyes were opened. And Phronsie was sitting on
the end of the bed with her hands folded in her lap.

When she saw Polly's eyes open, she gave a little crow and darted
forward. "Oh, I thought you never would wake up, Polly," she said,
throwing her arms around Polly's neck.

"Yes, this child has been sitting there a whole hour, Polly." Mother
Fisher gave a merry little laugh, and then she began to drop kisses on
Polly's rosy cheek--ever so many of them.

Polly's dewy eyes opened wide.

"It's your birthday, don't you know!" exclaimed Phronsie, trying to
drop as many kisses and as fast, on Polly's other cheek, and to talk at
the same time.

"Mamsie Fisher!" cried Polly, springing up straight in the middle of
the bed, nearly knocking Phronsie over. "Why, so it is. Oh, how could I
forget--and sleep over. And I'm fifteen!"

"You're fifteen," repeated Mother Fisher, setting the last little kiss
on Polly's cheek,--"and it's the best thing you could possibly do, to