Next, the embroidered top was pressed, and this Dora did herself after Mother had finished ironing. Mother basted the top and bottom together and Dora sewed the edges over and over. She tried so hard to make the stitches even and small that her cheeks grew pink and she felt hot all over. Into each stitch she sewed a loving thought for Miss Chandler. When the cushion was done, Mother said that it looked very neat and Lucy thought it was beautiful. She liked it so much that Dora had another idea. If Mother would help her, she would make a second cushion for Lucy’s Christmas present. There was plenty of cotton for more roses and there were canvas and linen, too. Perhaps it might be possible to make one for Olive. To make three pretty gifts and have them cost but seventeen cents would be a good deal for a little girl to accomplish. Dora could hardly wait until Lucy left the room before asking Mother about the other cushions. Mrs. Merrill said at once that she would help. They would be desirable Christmas presents for both Lucy and Olive. Dora found a clean empty candy-box into which the cushion fitted exactly. She wrapped it neatly in tissue paper and put in a card so Miss Chandler would know from whom it came. “You might tell her that you made it yourself,” suggested Mother, who was now darning Uncle Dan’s socks. So Dora put on the card: “I made it myself.” Then she thought a moment and wrote some more: “All but one stitch which Mother made so I could get the roses in the middle. And the bastings. She sewed those, but they are all pulled out.” Mother smiled a little over Dora’s card, but she said that it would do, and that she thought Dora was improving in her writing. Then Dora wrapped the box in brown paper and directed it to Miss Chandler in Boston. She decided to pay the postage with her eight cents. Then there would be nothing about the gift not wholly hers. CHAPTER VI DORA’S BIRTHDAY The seventeenth of September was Dora’s birthday. On Thursday night she went to bed expecting to feel quite different when she waked in the morning and was nine instead of eight. But she didn’t. She felt just the same. The day was bright and sunny but cold. Lucy looked out to see whether there had been a frost. So far as she could see, nothing was touched in the garden. Even the nasturtiums, which get discouraged and turn black if the thermometer casts a glance toward the freezing-point, were looking as alert and cheerful as usual. When the children were dressed, they ran down-stairs. Lucy went into the kitchen to help Mother. Dora sat down in the parlor and tried to read. The birthday girl never helped about breakfast. She didn’t even come near the table till she was called. Dora simply couldn’t read. She knew there was to be a surprise and she wanted to think how pleasant it would be. Out in the kitchen she could hear Lucy whispering to Mother and then came a rustle of paper as though somebody was arranging soft packages.