MARJORY'S BIRTHDAY.
"I wish her beauty
That owes not all its duty
To gaudy tire, or glist'ring shoe-tie."
Crashaw.
The eighteenth of September dawned at last. The sun shone in at Marjory's window, waking her to her birthday, as if impatient for her to begin this new year of her life.
She was soon up and dressed—dressed very carefully, in case the eyes of the governess should find anything amiss; but she would have been critical indeed could she have done so, for, when Marjory's toilet was completed, she looked the pink of neatness: Her abundant dark hair was plaited smoothly and tied with ribbon, new for the occasion, and she wore a new frock of soft, warm material, for the autumn days were chilly now and giving warning of the coming winter.
Marjory looked at herself in the glass very anxiously—a most unusual proceeding on her part. As a rule she spent little thought upon her personal appearance, but to-day things were different. She found herself wondering what impression Miss Waspe was likely to have of her at first sight. This was characteristic of Marjory, who was over-sensitive with regard to other people and their opinions of her. In this case it was not, "Shall I like Miss Waspe?" but, "Will Miss Waspe like me?"
Marjory always looked forward to her birthday. Her uncle never forgot to give her some gift in remembrance of the day; in fact, he made it a rule to give her two presents. She often wondered why he did so, but had never found courage to ask his reasons. The truth was that this was a curious way the doctor had of trying to satisfy that conscience which would continually prick him with regard to Mr. Davidson, and the second gift represented Marjory's father.
To-day was no exception to the rule. As Marjory went half eagerly, half shyly to the breakfast-table, there, by her place, were several parcels. The first she opened was a nice leather satchel for carrying her books to and from Braeside. This was from her uncle. Then came another with the words "To Marjory" written on it in the doctor's handwriting. It looked like a small square box, and as she took off the paper wrappings it proved to be a leather case containing a pretty little gold watch and chain. Her initials and the date were engraved on the back of it.
Dr. Hunter came in just as Marjory was examining this new treasure, and as she ran forward to thank him he said,—
"Like it, Marjory? That's right. But I think I am a foolish old man to give a watch to a young thing like you, for you'll only go and drop it down the first rabbit-hole you and Silky go scratching into; but I thought it might be useful in keeping you up to time with that governess of yours. No excuse for being late, eh? The date too—an important one, isn't it? Well, my child, I wish you many happy years."
Of the other parcels, one was raspberry toffee from Lisbeth, and the other, a curiously shaped one, was from Peter, and contained a trowel. Its somewhat prosaic appearance was relieved by the handle being decorated with Marjory's initial inside a heart of uncertain proportions, executed by poor old Peter's shaky hand with a red-hot skewer.