ht as
their greatest treasure, could be called unlucky! She had never expressed a
wish in her life that had not been gratified. "You mustn't say such things
to me, Ellen," added the child, vexed that her maid did not look sorry for
having made such a blunder.

Ellen had taken care of her ever since she was born, and no one should know
better what a happy, petted life she had led; but Ellen only shook her head
now; and when Gladys was dressed she went down to the dining-room where her
parents were waiting to give her a birthday greeting.

They kissed her lovingly, and then her mother said:--

"Well, what does my little girl want for her gift?"

"What have you for me?" asked Gladys, with only faint interest. She had
closets and drawers full of toys and books and games, and she was like a
person who has been feasted and feasted, and then is asked to sit down
again at a loaded table.

For answer her mother produced from behind a screen a beautiful doll. It
was larger and finer than any that Gladys had owned, and its parted, rosy
lips showed pearly little teeth within.

Gladys looked at it without moving, but began to smile. Then her mother put
her hand about the doll's waist and it suddenly said: "Ma-ma--Pa-pa."

"Oh, if she can talk!" cried Gladys, looking quite radiant for a minute,
and running forward she took the doll in her arms.

"Her name is Vera," said the mother, happy at having succeeded in pleasing
her child. "Here is something that your grandmother sent you, dear. Isn't
it a quaint old thing?" and Gladys's mother showed her a heavy silver bowl
with a cover. On the cover was engraved, "It is more blessed to give than
to receive."

"I don't know where your grandma found such an odd thing nor why she sent
it to a little girl; but she says it will be an heirloom for you."

Gladys looked at the bowl and handled it curiously. The cover fitted so
well and the silver was so bright she was rather pleased at having, such a
grown-up possession.

"It is evidently valuable," said her mother. "I will have it put with our
silver."

"No," returned Gladys, and her manner was the willful one of a spoiled
child. "I want it in my room. I like it."

"Oh, very well," answered her mother. "Grandma will be glad that you are
pleased."

An excursion into the country had been planned for Gladys to-day. She had
some cousins there, a girl of her own age and a boy a little older. She had
not seen Faith and Ernest for five ye