“I have been working very hard every night on my stories all the time I have been here. Did you see the envelope the postman brought for me this morning?”
“Yes.”
“It was from the publishers who print books. They have really and truly bought my stories and sent a perfectly good check and—I am an author.”
Martha Mary’s eyes were all watery. “Flip,” she said, “I am so happy I have to hug you.” She hugged him and then remembered about her birthday.
“I forgive you and excuse you altogether for forgetting,” she said. “Your secret is the nicest thing that has happened to-day.”
“But that is not the secret.”
“Flip. Is there more?”
“There is.”
“Tell me, please.”
“I was so excited when my letter came that Mother Dear said when she heard of it—guess what!”