Page:St. Nicholas (serial) (IA stnicholasserial321dodg).pdf/471



any one had ever called Hetty Macdonald’s attention to the matter, she would have agreed that it was n’t much fun to be the middle one. She adored her grown-up sister, tall, pretty, blonde Christine; and was scarcely less devoted to her second sister, Virginia, who was just about to leave school. And as to the twins, whose classic names, Romulus and Remus, were always abbreviated to Omy and Emy, which was more convenient if not as imposing, it would have been hard to persuade Hetty that there ever had been or ever would be again two such darling, mischievous, lovable boys as they were.

Much as she loved the twins, there were times when Hetty found them rather a trial. They were only five, and of such unwearying activity that they still really needed the undivided attention of an athletic nurse with muscles of steel and no nervous system. But Mrs. Macdonald could not afford this luxury; and, as she was a very busy woman herself, the sisters had to divide the care of the boys between them. When Hetty came home from school she was always warmly welcomed by Christine, who had been more or less on duty all day; and by the twins, too, for Hetty was much more fun than the older sister, who had theories about prompt obedience, consideration for others, etc., which were far too much of a handicap for their free spirits.

Somehow it came to be known in the school that Saturday was Hetty’s birthday. She did n’t remember having mentioned it; there was n’t much time or money spent on birthdays in the Macdonald family. She would much rather nothing had been known about it. All the girls in her class, as their birthdays came round, had had a party. These had been the occasion of great excitement and anticipation. Hetty had been asked with the others, and had eagerly accepted the invitation. She knew she would be expected ta reciprocate and, in her turn, to entertain the class. She had said as much as she dared on the subject at home, but had received no encouragement whatever.

“Please, Hetty dear, don’t ask to have a party this year,” said her mother. “I have all I can do now attending to Christine's company. Just rip this ruffle off, and then run down and see what the twins are about.”

So Hetty dropped the subject, except for a scattering fire of broad hints, which were not even recognized as hints by the family. But, though dropped at home, the theme persistently bobbed up at school.

“Is n’t next Saturday your birthday, Hetty?” asked Marion Dodge at recess.

The miserable Hetty confessed that it was.

“You ‘ll be thirteen, won't you?” went on the inexorable Marion. “Goimg to have a party?”

“Don’t bother me, Marion,” said Hetty, with unaccustomed incivility. “I’ve just got to finish this map before school begins.”

But the subject was only postponed, not abandoned, After school, as the girls were getting on their hats, another girl opened it. This time it was Katherine Carter,

“You ‘ll be thirteen Saturday, won’t you, Hetty?” she said. “Is n’t it fun to have your birthday come on Saturday? You ’re going to have a party, of course?”

“Yes, Hetty,” chimed in the eager chorus; “do tell us. Are you going to have a party?”

Driven to the wall, Hetty realized that there was no possibility of evading the question. She never knew what spirit of desperation took sudden possession of her.

“Yes,” she said calmly; “I am. All of you come Saturday afternoon at three o'clock.”

There was a joyous chorus of acceptances, and Hetty found herself a very popular personage, walking home in the midst of a lively group gaily planning what they should wear and what they should do at her party. She found