r girls Jenny offered the entertainment casually, like a
chocolate-cream.

Then she went to look for Lilli Vergoe in the dressing-room of the
second line of girls. Lilli seemed much surprised by the invitation.

"You don't want me," she said.

"Don't be silly. Why ever not?"

"Look at me."

"I can't see nothing the matter."

"I ask you, do I look like a birthday party? Never mind, kiddie, I'll
come."

"Don't make a favor of it old girl. Only I thought you'd like it."

"Why don't you ever come up to Cranbourne Street and see me?" asked
Lilli.

"You're always miserable. It gets on my nerves."

"I wish you would come sometimes. You've never been since that day you
told me you'd joined the ballet."

"Well, you was Melancholy Sarah that day, wasn't you, Lilli?"

The call-boy's summons closed the conversation, and Jenny ran off to her
own dressing-room for the last touch of powder.

When she came out of the theater that night, it was blowing a full
October gale. There was nobody by the stage door in whom she felt the
slightest interest, so without loitering and with pleasant anticipation
of to-morrow's fun, she went straight home.

Mrs. Raeburn was sitting by the kitchen fire when Jenny got back.

"You're early," she said.

"I know. There wasn't anything to stay out for. It's a terrible night,
pelting in rain. Shame after the glorious weather we've been having.
It's my birthday to-morrow, too."

"Good gracious!" exclaimed Mrs. Raeburn. "And I'd forgotten all about
it."

"You always do," said Jenny.

"I ought to have remembered this time. It was weather just like we've
been having before you were born, and it come on to blow and rain just
like this the very night. Twenty years! Tut-tut!"

"I don't feel a day older than fourteen," asserted Jenny.

"Tell me, do you enjoy being alive?" asked Mrs. Raeburn.

"Oh, what a question! Of course I do."

"You don't ever feel it was a pity you ever come into the world?"

"Of course I don't. Why should I? I think I'm a very lucky girl."

"You don't ever tell me anything about yourself," said Mrs. Raeburn. "So
I don't know."

"There's nothing to tell."

"I wish you'd get married."

"Whatever for?"

"Aren't you a bit gay?"

"Gay! Of course not."

"I wish you'd settle down," urged the mother. "There's a lot of nice
young chaps as would be glad to marry you."

"But I don't want to be married. I sha'n't ever get married. Ugh!
Besides, what's going on a