"Dear Moss Rose,--I guess tight gowns are a bit worrying in hot weather, so I've gotten together a few waists and skirts that may aid your recovery, and send them along with my love, wishing you many happy returns of the day. If it isn't the right day, it ought to be, anyway! I always calculated to be here for your birthday, and I'm about tired waiting. If you send them back, I'll burn them, as sure as taxes, but I reckon you're too sweet to hurt my feelings. Put on the one with the ruckings! It's the duty of every woman to look her best in the eyes of--. What wonderful weather for the time of year!-- Your friend, Cornelia. "_PS_--There's quite a gale blowing round this corner!..." "It _is_ sweet of her, but I mustn't, I can't, I really _couldn't_!" was Elma's comment as she flushed with surprise and embarrassment. It was quite certain that she could not accept the gift, but there was no harm in just looking to see what the box contained! She crossed the room, cut the string, and unfolded the brown papers which covered the cardboard box; lifted fold after fold of tissue papers, and gasped in admiration of each treasure as it was revealed. The daintiest of white lawn morning blouses, with skirt to match; a skirt and bodice of cream net marvellously rucked with ribbons; a blue muslin, afoam with flounces. All were fresh from the maker's hands, and, as Elma divined, had been selected from Cornelia's storehouse of garments, with careful regard to her own requirements. The "waists" would fit easily enough; the skirts--she shook out the muslin and held it against her own dress. Just a trifle short, perhaps, but not sufficiently so to spoil the effect. It was a _lovely_ skirt! Elma edged away from the glass with a little jerk of the figure calculated to send the flounces in a swirl round her feet. For three-and-twenty years she had gone through life wearing plain hems, and as Cornelia predicted, the flounces went to her brain. After all, would it not be ungracious to reject so kindly a gift? Her real birthday fell in the middle of July, and Cornelia, being rich and generous, would naturally offer a gift on the occasion. To keep the blue muslin would be only anticipating the remembrance.