But he would not allow it, so there was nothing to do but make the best of it.
The night before Valentine's Day, however, she did feel a bit blue, as she thought of King and Kitty and even Rosy Posy addressing their valentines, and making a frolic of it as they always did.
And she thought of her father, who was always ready to help on such occasions, making verses, and printing them in his fine, neat handwriting. Of course, they would send some to her,—she knew that,—but she was losing all the jolly family fun, and it seemed a pity.
And then the telephone rang, and it was her father calling for her.
"Hello, Midget," came his cheery voice over the wire; "now I wonder if a little girl about you? size isn't feeling sorry for herself this evening."
"I'm afraid I am, Father, but I'm trying not to."
"Good for you, Sister! Now don't bother to do it, for I can tell you I'm feeling so sorry for you that it's unnecessary for anybody else to do that same. Now I'll tell you something to chirk you up. I suppose you have lessons to-morrow morning?"
"Yes; Miss Hart said we could have a holiday if we chose, but we didn't choose. So we're going to have special valentiney lessons,—I don't know what they'll be."
"All right; and in the afternoon, I shall send you over a valentine party. No people, you know, they're not allowed; but all the rest of a nice valentine party."
"Why, Father, how can we have a party without people?"