“Whatever you feel, you must not show it,” she said, “for that will spoil everything. Here is your throne; step up.”
Pauline looked round her. Up to the present moment a curtain had been drawn across one end of the tent. It was now removed, and the little girl saw a deep chair covered completely with flowers and moss and ferns. A bright light was hanging just at the back of this throne. Now Pauline, as queen of the day, was led up to it, and requested to take her seat thereon. She did so, feeling queer and giddy. When she was seated the young people stood in groups at her right hand and at her left.
The farmer now appeared, carrying a table. All the guests stood in the background and looked on. The table was placed in front of Pauline. At the same instant Nancy bent forward and laid her hand across the little girl’s eyes.
“Don’t look just for a minute,” she said.
Pauline heard the ecstatic whispers of her own little sisters, and for the first time a feeling of wonder and pleasure stole over her. She forgot all that had gone before, and for the time was both happy and excited.
“Now you may look,” said Nancy.
As Pauline opened her eyes she felt something cool and soft descending on her head.
“Don’t touch it,” whispered Nancy; “it’s your crown. But come, girls and boys, we must do more than this to make our queen beautiful.”
As she spoke all the young people divided into two groups, crossed the floor, and came past Pauline as she sat on her throne; and each one, as she or he passed, threw a wreath of flowers either over the head of the little girl, or round her neck, or into her lap, until finally she found herself absolutely embedded in flowers.
“Look at yourself,” said Nancy, suddenly slipping a looking-glass in front of the birthday queen. “Tell us what you see.”