he didn't in
the least know what to do with it. He is trying each moment to escape
back into the house, but Aunt Sophy won't let him. She says he must not
stir until you come down. Poor father does look in misery. Be quick and
dress and come downstairs."

At this moment there was a shout from below, and the three girls who had
summoned Pauline from the land of dreams rushed off, dashing through the
house with whoops of triumph.

Pauline rose and dressed quickly. She put on the pretty pale lavender
print frock that Aunt Sophia had decided she was to wear, and went
downstairs. When she joined the others Mr. Dale greeted her with one of
his slow, sweet smiles.

"How are you, darling?" he said. "I have a sort of idea that I am kept
standing here on this lawn, exposed to the heat of a very powerful sun,
on your account."

"Of course it is on Pauline's account, Henry," said Miss Sophia. "It is
her birthday. Kiss me, Pauline, dear. Many happy returns of the day.
Henry, give your daughter her present. She is fourteen to-day."

"Fourteen! Ah!" said Mr. Dale, "a charming age. The ancients considered a
woman grown-up at fourteen."

"But no one is so silly in these days," said Miss Tredgold. "We know that
a girl is never more childish than at fourteen. Henry, open that parcel
and give Pauline what it contains."

Mr. Dale dropped the brown-paper parcel at his feet. He looked at it in
bewilderment.

"It is heavy," he said. "I haven't the least idea what is in it."

"It is your present to your daughter."

"Ah!" said Mr. Dale, "I forgot; and I packed it myself last night. My
child, I wonder if you are worthy of it."

"I don't suppose I am, father," said Pauline.

"For goodness' sake open it, Henry, and don't torture the child's
feelings."

"I put it in an old bandbox," said Mr. Dale. "I couldn't find anything
else. Pauline, in giving you what I am about to give you, I show a high
appreciation of your character. I remember now what my present is. I had
an awful night in consequence of it. I felt as though one of my limbs was
being severed from my body. Nevertheless, my dear, I don't retract nor go
back, for that is not my way. I give you this most noble gift with a
distinct object. I have lately been examining all your foreheads.
Although I have appeared to take little notice of you, I have watched you
as day by day I have enjoyed the excellent food provided by your most
worthy aunt. While my body was feeding, my mind w