ng finished, and as she took the last stitches a little
velvet-covered jewel-box fell out. In the jewel-box was a string of pearls
that had belonged to Marguerite's great-great-grandmother. It was a precious
family heirloom, and although Marguerite could not wear the necklace until
she was old enough to go to her first great court ball, it made her very
proud and happy to think that, of all the grandchildren in the family,
she had been chosen as the one to wear her great-great-grandmother's
name that means pearl, and had inherited on that account the beautiful
Von Behren necklace.

When the knitting was done there was a charming birthday feast in her
honour. They crowned her with flowers, and every one, even the dignified
old grandfather, did her bidding until nightfall, because it was _her_
day, and she was its queen.

Closing the book Lloyd lay back among the cushions, smiling for the
twentieth time over Marguerite's happiness, and planning the beautiful
wonder-ball she herself would like to have, if wonder-balls were to be had
for the wishing. It should be as big as a cart-wheel, and the first gift
to be unwound should be a tiny ring set with an emerald, because that is
the lucky stone for people born in May. She already owned so many books,
and trinkets, that she hardly knew what else to wish for unless it might
be a coral fan chain and a mother-of-pearl manicure set. But deep down in
the heart of the ball she would like to find a wishing-nut, that would
grant her wishes like an Aladdin's lamp whenever it was rubbed.

She must have fallen asleep in the midst of her day-dreaming, for it
seemed to her that it was only a minute after she closed her book, that
she heard the half-past five o'clock train whistling at the station, and
while she was still rubbing her eyes she saw her father coming up the
avenue.

All day she had had a lingering hope that he might bring her something
when he came out from the city. "If it's nothing but a bag of peanuts,"
she thought, "it will be better than having a birthday go by without
anything, 'specially when all the othahs have been neahly as nice as
Christmas."

She peeped out between the curtains, scanning him eagerly as he came
toward the house, but there was no package in either hand, and no
suggestive parcel bulged from any of his pockets.

"I'll not be a baby," Lloyd whispered to herself, winking her eyelids
rapidly to clear away a sort of mist that seemed to blur the lands