“It’s a package for you, Miss Dulcie,” said Mary, rather breathless from the four long flights of stairs. “It came by express, and I thought you might like to have it right away. Mrs. Winslow’s out, and Miss Kate, too.” “Why, what in the world can it be?” cried Dulcie, and all the others gathered about her eagerly, as she untied the string. “It’s a wooden box,” announced Molly. “Maybe it’s a birthday present from Papa,” suggested Maud. “Or from Lizzie,” added Daisy. “It’s from California,” said Paul; “I see California on the back. Do you know anybody there?” “Yes, Uncle Stephen and Miss Leslie,” said Dulcie; “it must be from one of them, but how did they know this was my birthday?” “There’s a letter inside,” cried Molly. “Let’s read it before we open the box, then we’ll know who sent it.” “Why not see what’s in the box first?” objected Paul, who was almost as much interested in the contents of the mysterious package as the little girls themselves. “Because,” said Daisy, “it’s so exciting to anticipate, and as soon as we know what’s inside the box the excitement will be over. Do read the letter first, Dulcie.” “It might be only soap, you know,” suggested Maud, with a recollection of Aunt Kate’s Christmas present. “The letter is from Miss Leslie,” cried Dulcie, who, obedient to Daisy’s request, had already torn open the envelope. “Oh, isn’t it lovely? Listen to what she says.” And she read aloud: “MY DEAR DULCIE: “I was going to say ‘little Dulcie,’ but remembered just in time that people of twelve don’t like to be considered ‘little’ any longer, and if I am not mistaken, you are going to have a birthday on the twentieth. Now I suppose you are wondering what little bird brought me that interesting piece of news, and I am not going to tell you, because it is fun to keep guessing. I am sending a box of our preserved California fruit, which I hope may reach you on the right day. “I was delighted with your nice letter, and very much interested in the brave little invalid next door. I agree with you that her brother ought to know of her condition, but if she will persist in being so unselfish and heroic, I don’t see that her friends can do anything to help matters. I am glad you go to see her often, and as to the door in the wall----” Dulcie came to a sudden startled pause. All the little girls had grown very much embarrassed. “What’s the matter? Why don’t you go on?” demanded Paul, in astonishment. “I can’t,” said Dulcie, “it’s a secret. I ought to have stopped before, but I didn’t notice.” Paul looked disappointed and a little offended. “I can keep secrets just as well as anybody else,” he said, sulkily, “but of course if you don’t want me to hear, I won’t listen.” And he turned to leave the room, with an air of injured dignity.