“There isn’t any use minding what you can’t help,” said Molly, philosophically, and just then the dinner-bell rang, and the conversation came to an end. Immediately after dinner the three younger girls left the dining-room, and Dulcie, looking quite happy and excited, sat down to spend a silent evening with her elders. Paul would have liked to follow the others, but was too proud to go where he had not been invited, so having nothing better to do, he consented with unusually good grace to his mother’s proposal that he should read a chapter or two of ancient history. “To-morrow is your birthday, isn’t it?” Paul observed to Dulcie, as the two children went up-stairs together, at eight o’clock. “Yes,” said Dulcie, smiling; “that’s why the others went up so early; they wanted to tie up the presents.” “Have you any idea what you’re going to get?” Paul asked, curiously. “Not the very least, and it’s so exciting wondering about it.” And Dulcie laughed, such a happy laugh, that Paul gazed at her in bewilderment. “I hope she won’t be disappointed,” he said to himself. “I wish I’d known about that book before, so I could have bought it in time. I should be disappointed enough if I didn’t get anything but old junk for my birthday, and I guess most people would, too.” But when Dulcie came down to breakfast the next morning, she did not look in the least disappointed. She was wearing a pink hair-ribbon, which Paul remembered to have noticed as a favorite color with Molly, and round her neck, attached to a piece of black velvet, was a tiny gold locket. “Happy birthday,” remarked Paul, as Dulcie slipped into her seat at the table. “Did you like your presents?” “I loved them,” answered Dulcie, heartily. “I woke up before six, and took all the packages into bed; I was so crazy to see what they were.” At that moment Grandma looked up from the morning paper, to inquire sharply: “What’s that round your neck, Dulcie?” “It’s my locket,” said Dulcie, proudly, touching the trinket with loving fingers. “It was Maud’s, but she gave it to me for a birthday present. Papa gave it to her, and there’s a piece of Mamma’s hair in it.” “Take it off the moment you go up-stairs,” commanded Mrs. Winslow. “Children don’t wear jewelry in the morning. I am surprised you didn’t know better than to put it on.” Dulcie’s face fell, and she grew suddenly scarlet, but she said nothing, and no further allusions were made on the subject of birthdays. The morning was taken up with lessons, as usual, and after luncheon the four little girls were sent out for their daily exercise in the Square. They were not allowed to go far from home by themselves, and as it was a cold, dark afternoon, with a strong wind blowing, they did not find the solemn walk round and round the Square particularly enjoyable. Dulcie left the others for a few minutes, while she made a call at the circulating library, whence she returned looking rather crestfallen.