Beulah walked down the avenue, lined on either side with venerable poplars and cedars, and opened the large gate leading into the city. He checked his horse, and said:
"Thank you, my child. Now, how are you going to spend the day? Remember you commence with school duties next week; so make the best of your holiday."
"I have enough to occupy me to-day. Good-by, sir."
"Good-by, for an hour or so." He smiled kindly and drove on, while she walked slowly back to the house, wondering why smiles were such rare things in this world, when they cost so little, and yet are so very valuable to mourning hearts. Pauline sat on the steps with an open book in her hand. She looked up as Beulah approached, and exclaimed gayly:
"Aren't you glad I am to have my birthday frolic?"
"Yes; I am glad on your account," answered Beulah gravely.
"Can you dance all the fancy dances? I don't like any so well as the mazourka."
"I do not dance at all."
"Don't dance! Why, I have danced ever since I was big enough to crawl! What have you been doing all your life, that you don't know how to dance?"
"My feet have had other work to do," replied her companion; and, as the recollections of her early childhood flitted before her, the brow darkened.