trot too fast." Leigh thought again. This time he tried to makehis guess some quite "girl" thing.
"A doll--a big doll for Mary," he said.
Nurse smiled. No, it was not that--at least--"A wax doll, do you mean,Master Leigh?"
"Yes, a wax doll. But I don't _think_ it could be a doll, for thatcould have been got already for a birthday present, and this is quite an_extra_ present, isn't it?" said Leigh.
"Yes, _quite_ extra," said nurse. "But now it's Master Artie's turn."
Artie's ideas were very jumbled. He did not keep the inside of his headin nearly such good order as Leigh kept his. First he guessed "a fineday for Mary's birthday," as if any "guessing" could be needed for athing which was already there before their eyes. Then he guessed a_very_ big cake for tea, which was not a very clever guess, as a nicebig cake on a birthday was an "of course." So now it came to Mary's ownguesses. She looked up eagerly.
"For us all to be doo--" Then with a great effort, for Mary was growinga big girl and wanted to speak quite rightly, "to be g-ood all day.Kite g-ood."
"That would be very nice," said nurse, "and I hope it will come true,but that's more wishing than guessing, Miss Mary. It's something that'scome, not going to come, that I want you to guess about."
Mary's face grew very grave. Then it smiled again.
"I know," she said, "mamma's headache to g-go away, now, jimmedjetly,and then we'll go and see her."
"I hope it will," said nurse. "But that wasn't the guess."
She saw that Mary was too little quite to understand.
"See if I can't help you," she said. "What would you like best ofanything? Don't you think a doll that could learn to speak and love youand play with you would be a nice birthday present?"
Artie and Mary looked puzzled. They had to think about it. But Leighwas quicker.
"Why, nurse," he said, "a doll like that would be a _living_--oh nurse,I do believe--" but just as he was going to say more there came a tap atthe door, and Robert, the footman, came in.
"If you please, Mrs Barley," he began. "Barley" was nurse's own name,and, of course, the other servants were all very respectful, and alwayscalled her "Mrs Barley."
"Master wants the young gentlemen and Miss Mary now at once, if so be asthey've finished their breakfast."
"I think you should say `Miss Mary and the young gentlemen,' Robert,"said Leigh.
"Specially as it's Mary's birthday," said Artie.
"Oh rubbish," said Leigh; "birthday or no birthday, it's proper."
"I beg the young lady's pardon," said Robert, who was a very wellbrought up footman. "I'm sure I meant no offence," and he lookedtowards Mary, but just then he could not see anything of her. For whileher brothers were correcting Robert, Mary had been employing herself ingetting down from her chair, which took a good while, as it was high andshe was very short. Nothing but a sort of fluff of blue skirts and sashand white muslin pinafore and shaggy hair, with here and there a shoe ora little pink hand sticking out, was to be seen. Robert sprangforwards, meaning to be extra polite and set Miss Mary right sideuppermost again, but in some mysterious way she managed to get on herfeet by herself.
"No, zank you, Robert," she said with dignity, as she stood there with arather red face, smoothing down her pinafore. "I can get down alone."
"Miss Mary, my dear," said nurse. "I'm always telling you to ask me tolift you down. The chair will topple over some day and you'll behurting yourself badly."
"But, nurse, I'm _four_, now," said Mary. "Four is big."
"Of course it is," said Leigh. "Never mind, nurse. The best plan willbe for me to hold her chair while she gets down. Are you ready, Artie?Mary and I are."
Artie had managed to "honey" his face and hands, and nurse thought Marytoo would not be the worse for a slight sponging.
"Papa likes a sweet kiss, but not a honey one," she said.
But at last they were all ready and on their way down to thedining-room, where they came upon Robert again, ready to throw open thedoor with great dignity, as he had hurried down the back stairs onpurpose to be there before them.
Papa was just finishing _his_ breakfast. He looked up with a brightsmile.
"Well, young people," he said. "Well, my pet," this was to Mary. "Sothis is your birthday, my little queen--eh?"
He lifted her on to his knee and kissed her.
Mary loved when papa called her his little queen.
"I have to be off immediately," he said, "but first I have to give youyour birthday presents from dear mamma and me."
"And ours, papa, Leigh's and mine. They're all together--mamma put themall together," said Artie.
"All right. They are over there on the side-table. You fetch them,"said papa.
"Are you going to a meeting, father?" asked Leigh.
"Yes, my boy, to lots of meetings. I shan't be back till lateto-night."
"What are meetings?" Mary was just going to ask, but the sight of Artieand the parcels put it out of her head. There was a beautiful doll'sperambulator from papa and mamma, and "a church book," bound in red, andwith "Mary" outside, in lovely gold letters; and from Leigh and Artie, adoll's tea-service--cups and saucers and teapot and everything--in whitechina with little pink flowers, and dear little teaspoons of shiningsilver, or at least quite as pretty as silver. And then there was thebirthday cake--covered with white sugar and with "Mary" in pink letters.There was no fear of Mary forgetting her name this birthday, was there?
How her eyes sparkled, and how quick her breath came with pleasure, andhow rosy her cheeks grew!
"Oh papa," she said, "oh Leigh, oh Artie!" and for a minute or two thatwas all she could say.
"Are you pleased, my pet?" said papa.
"Oh, I _never_, never did have such sp'endid presents," said Mary.
"Dear little Mary," said Artie, kissing her. "I am so glad you likethem."
Then another thought struck Mary, as she stood touching gently one ofher treasures after the other, as if she did not know which she lovedthe most.
"Papa, dear," she said, "can't I see dear mamma? I would like to zankdear mamma."
"And so you shall, my pet," said her father. And he picked her up as hespoke and seated her on his shoulder. Mary was very fond of riding onpapa's shoulder. "Come along, boys," he said, "you may come with me, ifyou won't be noisy, to see mamma and something else--Mary's bestbirthday present of all."
"Anoder birfday present," said Mary, so surprised that she felt quitebreathless. "_Anoder_, papa?"
"Yes, old woman--you couldn't guess what, if you tried for a week ofSundays," said papa.
Papa did say such funny things sometimes! Mary would have begunwondering what a week of Sundays could be like, if her thoughts had notbeen so busy with the idea of another birthday present, that she couldnot take in anything else.
What _could_ it be?
"There's been nothing but guessing to-day," said Artie. "Nurse _was_making us guess so at breakfast, about something that's comed for Mary'sbirthday. Could it be this other present, papa? I'm tired ofguessing."
"Well, don't guess any more," said papa. "I'm going to show you."
CHAPTER THREE.
A WONDERFUL BIRTHDAY PRESENT.
There was a room next to Mary's mother's room which was not often used.Mary was rather surprised when her father carried her straight to thisroom instead of to her mother's. And when he lifted her down from hisshoulder she was still more surprised to see that there was a nicelittle fire burning in the grate, and that the room looked quitecheerful and almost like another nursery, with a rocking-chair in frontof the fire, and the blinds drawn up to let the pretty summer morningbrightness in.
There was something in the corner of the room which Mary would havestared at a great deal if she had seen it. But just now she did notlook that way, for she was surprised for the third time by seeing that adoor stood open in the corner near the window, where she had never knownbefore that there was a door.
"Where
does that go to, papa?" she said, and she was running forward tolook when her father stopped her.
"It goes into mamma's room, my pet," he said, "but I don't want you togo in there yet. Perhaps mamma's asleep."
"It's all dark," said Mary; she had been peeping in. She felt ratherstrange,
Mary: A Nursery Story for Very Little Children Page 3
