Susan had a good deal to try her temper during the rest of that day. The Fairleys, like most children when recovering from illness, were very impatient and cross; they would not bear contradiction, they quarrelled, they broke their toys, they tore their books, they grumbled against the doctor who kept them in-doors when they chose to go out. Susan came in for a large share of their rudeness; but she was quiet and patient, never returned a cross word, and did all that she could to give pleasure to those who seemed resolved not to be pleased. Dinner in some degree restored the Fairleys to good humour. After being kept for some days on low diet, the children were very hungry, and keenly enjoyed their meal. As Tom was finishing a leg of chicken after having eaten a wing, he abruptly stopped, struck the handle of his knife and fork upon the table, and exclaimed, as a thought suddenly arose in his mind, "I hope all this nonsense about infection has not made mamma put off my birthday party!" He looked Susan full in the face as he spoke, and her silence was answer sufficient. Knife and fork were flung to the other end of the table, Tom started to his feet in a violent fury, and Jessy burst into tears. It was some time before Susan could gain a hearing. The birthday party had been looked forward to with delight; the Fairleys were very little accustomed to disappointment, and knew not how to bear it. Gradually, however, the storm lulled a little, and Susan was able to suggest a few thoughts of comfort. The children should have a birthday feast after all, she would ask Mason the cook for a little flour, eggs, and strawberry jam, she would show Tom and Jessy how to make pastry themselves, and that would be far better fun than having it up from the kitchen, or from a confectioner's shop. Jessy dried her eyes, listened and smiled; the child was accustomed to the pleasure of eating pastry, but the pleasure of helping to make it was something entirely new. Tom's passion subsided into sulky ill-humour, as he sat balancing his crown-piece on his thumb, then throwing it up and catching it again. "What's the use of having a feast with no guests to eat it?" muttered the boy. "And what's the use of having money when one is not able to spend it?" "Well, Master Tom," said Susan, gaily, "if you can't tell what to do with your money, I know a famous way in which you could spend it; and if you want guests, I know how you can get as many as you please to invite." "You do—do you?" cried the boy, with eager surprise. "It happens," said Susan, "that my dear mother's birthday falls on the same day as yours, and I have been intending, for some time past, to give a feast to four children in honour of the day." "You—a nursery-maid!" exclaimed Tom Fairley. "And pray, does mamma know what you are after?" "Oh! No," replied Susan, smiling, "no one knows but myself; but perhaps, if you are very good, I may let you into my secret?"