The four elder children were allowed to breakfast downstairs with papa and mamma on birthday mornings; and this was considered a special treat. Clarice felt quite shy when Milly met her at the dining room door with a wreath of flowers, wherewith to crown her queen of the day, and papa led her to the chair beside him.
A number of tempting unopened parcels half-buried in flowers quite covered her plate, as though she were not expected to eat any breakfast. Then all the servants came in to prayers, and papa asked God especially to bless his dear little girl on her birthday by giving her His Holy Spirit, to teach her to walk in the heavenly way all the years of her life.
Clarice herself joined earnestly in the petition, for she had lately learned by experience that being happy meant being good, and this made her long that God would teach her the way. It was a great puzzle to know which packet to open first, there were so many. A reference Bible from papa; a writing-case from mamma, fitted up with everything a little girl could want to write a letter with; a birthday text-book from Milly; a silver thimble from Alfred and Arthur; a blue sash from Aunt Emily; and last of all, in a little box to itself, an old-fashioned embroidered silk purse, with a golden sovereign shining inside.
Clarice gave a cry of delight, and clasped her hands together. Papa looked grieved as he saw the fascination the piece of gold had for her, and said, "I hope my Clarice is not too fond of money?"
"No, papa dear; I am sure you would not think that, if I could only tell you something. I am so glad I can do it now. I thought I should have to wait for months and months."
"Do what?" inquired mamma.
"Oh, mother, please don't ask! It is a real secret—only old Jonathan knows about it; and he will be so glad too. Papa, I shall whisper to you about it by and by. There! I won't talk about it any more now," said the delighted child, closing the snap of the purse resolutely, and beginning to admire the other presents over again.
"There is the postman coming up the avenue," said Alfred. "Let me go. Three letters for Clarice!" he cried, after a speedy return. "One from grandmamma, one from auntie, and here is another with the London postmark, and a roll of music. That must be from Uncle George. How rich you are, Clarice! I wish my birthday was coming soon!"
Breakfast over, and the presents removed to a side table, Clarice sat herself down in one of the bay windows to read her letters over and over again, for one contained an invitation from Uncle George to go to London with papa next month. The other children had left her alone, to run off and watch the erection of a large white tent on the lawn; for Clarice had begged, as her birthday treat, that she might have the school children and their parents to tea. To this request her father and mother had willingly consented, so glad were they to encourage kind thought for others in their little ones. The shouting and laughing outside soon drew Clarice from her retreat; and, as it was a whole holiday, the morning was spent in decking the interior of the tent with evergreens and flowers, Jonathan and Robin assisting.
"Jonathan," whispered the birthday queen, after enumerating to him her various presents, "only think: grandmamma has sent me a golden sovereign. Will that be enough to buy mamma another vase?" she added wistfully.