THE BIRTHDAY GIFT.
In the midst of the shadow over the household at Ekero, Alma's birthday had come. No festivities could be thought of. No birthday table was decked for her with flowers and gifts. Her father had not even remembered the fact that she was now eighteen years old until the evening came on. The housekeeper, a thorough Swede in all things, could not forget such an anniversary; but she was in no mood towards Alma to prompt to any particular kindness in that direction, or any festal preparations.
The father and daughter were sitting quietly together in the study in the evening. "Alma," he began, "I have just remembered that it must be your birthday. It has been a sad, neglected birthday for you, my child; but it shall not pass altogether without notice. Give me the jewel-case that has been in your charge, and the key too, dear. I have, of course, meant that you should have these things that were so peculiarly associated with your dear mother's younger days. The watch you can wear at once, as your own does not seem to keep good time. Hers was an excellent time-keeper, and it will remind you to be exact and true, and gentle and holy, like your dear mother. I shall take real pleasure in seeing you wear it. Go, daughter, at once! I am glad I thought of something that will please you on your birthday."
Alma obeyed mechanically, and returned quickly with the empty case in her hand, hoping that when the critical moment came she should be able to explain herself satisfactorily. She gave the casket into her father's hands, and waited in a silence so natural under the circumstances that he did not notice it.
There was no sparkle from the dark cushions, but a sudden, astonished sparkle in the colonel's eyes. "Empty, Alma! What does this mean?" he exclaimed.
"I have given them away," she said, blushing very deeply.
"Given them away!" repeated the colonel, slowly and sternly.
"I have given them for a good object, very dear to my heart. I am sure you would approve of it. Please, papa, do not ask me any more about it now. I do not want to tell you yet. It is a secret. I have promised, just to myself, and almost to God, never to tell any one until a certain thing is accomplished—until I can fully succeed."
"What is the matter with you, child? Have you lost your senses? You had no right to give away things intrusted to your care. I have told you that, by your mother's simple will, all she had was left at my disposition. Am I to be disappointed in both my children?" and the colonel bowed his head upon his hands.
"Dear papa, you are not to be disappointed in me! I have done nothing wrong." Here Alma's conscience gave her a sharp prick. Suddenly she broke out, after a moment's pause, "I want to be like the princess. I am sure that would please you, papa! You know she sold her jewels for a home for the sick poor."