“I’ll stop then,” laughed papa.  “Fourteen is old enough, and I don’t want my girl to turn into a young lady just yet.”

“Now shut your eyes, Popsy, and don’t look until I get you into your chair,” said Ruth as they reached the dining-room door.

Her father obediently shut his eyes, and Ruth led him to his place at the table.  Then she slipped around to her own chair, and clapping her hands said triumphantly, “Now look.”

“Oh—­o-oh!” gasped her father, almost before he had opened his eyes.  “This is truly superb.  Ruth, you’re an artist.”

“Mary helped me do it,” said Ruth, smiling at the pretty maid; “but I planned it every bit myself.  I thought I would make it a pink and white birthday because pink is your favorite color.”

Mr. Shirley looked at the pretty table with appreciative eyes.  In the centre a bowl of pink roses reflected in its shining facets the lights of the pink candies which filled the candelabra at the ends of the table.  Broad, pink satin ribbons, with rosebuds and maidenhair fern dropped upon them at intervals, ran from the flower bowl in the centre to the comers of the polished table, and in front of papa’s plate was a huge birthday cake resplendent with pink and white icing and glittering with candies.

“You don’t have to eat the birthday cake first,” said Ruth, as Mr. Shirley looked somewhat apprehensively in its direction.  “You see I made it myself, and I thought I couldn’t possibly wait all through dinner for it to be put on, so I told Mary we’d make it a sort of glorified supper, and we could have the cake to look at while we were eating the other things.”

“Do you mean to tell me that you made this gorgeous concoction yourself?” asked papa, looking at her admiringly.  “To think I should have had such a genius in my house and not have known it.”

“I’ve been practicing ever since the first of September,” answered Ruth proudly, “and Nora said that this one looked quite perfect.  But you mustn’t take too long over your supper, for there’s another surprise coming when we are all by ourselves in the library.”

“You don’t say so.  How can I wait until then?” said Mr. Shirley, beginning to attack the salad with great energy.

It was a delightful birthday supper, Ruth thought, for her father was his funniest self, and she laughed so much that she had scarcely time to eat.  The cake was a great success, and Mr. Shirley praised the maker of it so warmly that she blushed rosily and flew around the table to give him a hug and kiss.

“Now for surprise number two,” cried Ruth as they left the table and went into the cozy library.  “Sit in the big chair, papa, and I’ll bring it to you.”

Mr. Shirley waited with pretended anxiety while Ruth opened a drawer in the desk and took out a small box.  “This is for the best of fathers and the best of chums,” she said giving it to him with a kiss.

“From the best of little daughters,” he added as he opened the box.  Inside was a velvet case and opening that he found a gold locket on which his monogram had been engraved.