“Milly,” he began at dinner, “wouldn’t you like to know about your presents?  But of course I shan’t tell you about mine.  Perhaps I’m not going to give you one at all.  Oh, mother,” in a loud whisper to Mrs. Norton, “did you put it away safe where she can’t see?”

“Oh, you silly boy,” said Milly, “you’ll tell me if you don’t take care.”

“No, I shan’t.  I wouldn’t tell you if you were to go on asking me all day.  It isn’t very big, you know, Milly, and—­and—­it isn’t pretty outside—­only—­”

“Be quiet, chatterbox,” said Mr. Norton putting his hand over Olly’s mouth, “you’ll tell in another minute, and then there’ll be no fun to-morrow.”

So Olly with great difficulty kept quiet, and began eating up his pudding very fast, as if that was the only way of keeping his little tongue out of mischief.

“Father,” he said after dinner, “do take Milly out for a walk, and mother shall take me.  Then I can’t tell, you know.”

So the two went out different ways, and Olly kept away from Milly all day, in great fear lest somehow or other his secret should fly out of him in spite of all his efforts to keep it in.  At night the children made nurse hurry them to bed, so that when mother came to tuck them up, as she generally did, she found the pair fast asleep, and nothing left to kiss but two curly heads buried in the pillows.

“Bless their hearts,” said nurse to Mrs. Norton, “they can think of nothing but to-morrow.  They’ll be sadly disappointed if it rains.”

But the stars came out, and the new moon shone softly all night on the great fir trees and the rosebuds and the little dancing beck in the Ravensnest garden; and when Milly awoke next morning the sun was shining, and Brownholme was towering up clear and high into the breezy blue sky, and the trees were throwing cool shadows on the dewy lawn around the house.

“Oh dear!” said Milly, jumping up, her face flushing with joy “it’s my birthday, and it’s fine.  Nana, bring me my things, please.—­But where’s Olly?”

Where indeed was Olly?  There was his little bed, but there was a nightdress rolled up in it, and not a wisp of his brown curls was to be seen anywhere.

“Why, Miss Milly, are you woke up at last?  I hardly thought you’d have slept so late this morning.  Many happy returns of the day to you,” said nurse, giving her a hearty hug.

“Thank you, dear nurse.  Oh, it is so nice having birthdays.  But where can Olly be?”

“Don’t you trouble your head about him,” said nurse mysteriously, and not another word could Milly get out of her.  She had just slipped on her white cotton frock when mother opened the door.

“Well, birthday-girl!  The top of the morning to you, and many, many happy returns of the day.”

Whereupon Milly and mother went through a great deal of kissing which need not be described, and then mother helped her brush her hair, and put on her ribbon and tie her sash, so that in another minute or two she was quite ready to go down.