no one could have a kinder nurse than my good
little Hetty. Get every possible thing you can want, my love, for
Nan's birthday. Make it a festival to be long remembered by you
all. Set your wits to work to make the day a really brilliant one,
and expect your loving father, if not to share in the whole of the
festivity, at least to be present at a portion of it.

"Now good-bye, my dear Hester; give my love to Nan, and remember me
kindly to your young friend, Miss Forest.--Believe me, your
affectionate father,

"JOHN THORNTON."

Hester received this letter at breakfast time. She read it through
gravely--not once, but twice. Annie's gay voice, her peals of merry
laughter, and her gay and irresistibly funny speeches were diverting the
attention of Molly, and to a certain extent of Nan; but Nan knew the
handwriting on the envelope. She was also well aware of the fact that
the birthday, when she would have the glorious privilege of counting
nine years as her own, was close at hand. When Hester, therefore, folded
up the letter, she called to her from the other end of the table.

"Toss it over, Hetty," she said. "I know it's from the Dad; let us hear
what he says."

"Yes, it is from father," replied Hester in a grave voice.

"May not I read what he says?"

"The beginning part is business."

"Well, I'll skip the business; you can point out where the fun begins.
What are you looking so mysterious and solemn about? Why may not I read
the letter?"

Nan looked almost cross; Hester was disturbed. She showed this by
slipping the letter into her pocket. This fact aroused Annie's
curiosity, who looked at her with sparkling eyes full of mischief.

"You are a cross-patch," exclaimed Nan in her most spoilt tone. "I never
knew such a thing. Is not a father's letter meant for one child as well
as for another?"

"No, Nan, dear, not on this occasion," said Hester in a firm tone. "Now,
try not to be silly; finish your breakfast, and I will speak to you
afterwards."

Nan pouted.

"When is Sir John coming back, Hester?" inquired Molly.

"In about a week," replied Hester.

"A week," shouted Nan suddenly recovering her good humour. "Hurrah! my
birthday will be in a week. My dear, good girls all of you, I am getting
elderly as fast as possible. I'll be nine in a week; isn't that
scrumptious? Did Dad say anything about my birthday in that mysterious
letter, Het