“You ridiculous girl! You know what I think about kissing.” “That’s the reason I asked. I didn’t know but you would rather have it over at once than prolong the agony.” “I don’t see the necessity of doing either.” “We’ve got to do something to celebrate, so I thought that might appeal to you as being a cheap way of getting out of it. If you object to that form of celebration, what do you say to a party?” “A party, indeed! What are you talking about? I never had a party in my life.” “Then it’s high time you had, and I mean that you shall.” “You do, do you? I suppose you mean to furnish party dresses, refreshments, decorations, and all that.” “Of course I do.” “And where, may I ask, do you expect to get the money?” “Oh, I have money enough. Five dollars should cover the expense of the modest entertainment I have in mind.” “Five dollars, and where did you get five dollars?” Miss Rindy leaned forward with real eagerness. “Earned it.” “How?” “Playing wedding marches for Miss Matilda Andrews’ wedding.” “You don’t mean to say they paid you for that? I thought you did it as a favor so Jeremy could go to that musical thing he was so set upon.” “He called it a favor, but I was paid just the same.” “You ought to give it right back to him.” “I tried to, but he won’t take it, so to ease my conscience I am going to blow it in on a party for you, which he can enjoy as well as the rest.” “That is a perfectly absurd and ridiculous notion. You need shoes.” “I can get along with those I have, or wear a pair of Mother’s if I stuff cotton in the toes. If worst comes to worst, I can go to one of those communities where they run around barefoot for their health’s sake. Now, Cousin Rindy, I don’t mind those disapproving looks one little bit. I’ve made all my arrangements. In a few minutes I expect the first birthday cake to be delivered. The invitations are all out; I hope you will approve of the list. The cakes are baked, or will be before the morning is over, so this evening you must be ready to receive your guests. I don’t believe you will be so cruel as to disappoint them and me.” Miss Rindy’s usually firm lips began to quiver. “But Ellen, but Ellen——” “Ellen me no Ellens. Unless you want me to die of mortification you will succumb gracefully.” “It looks as if I must,” Miss Rindy sighed half wistfully. “But I have nothing suitable to wear.” “Oh, yes, you have. When we have finished the breakfast dishes we will go up-stairs and try it on.” “What is it?” Miss Rindy’s curiosity really was aroused. “That black lace of Mother’s. I am sure it will fit you, or at least, made as it is, you can wear it. I want you to take it as a birthday gift from me.” “I shall not do it. You will need it yourself some day.”