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In spite of her smile there was a tinge of gravity in her silent moment of consideration. “Very well, Billy. You know how short Saturday is, and that to-morrow you’ll wish you’d cut the grass to-day. Yet I leave it to you; do as you like.” Mr. Crump indulged in an unusual hobby, the collection of old musical instruments, and a motley group it was that Moses eyed with growing wonder. “Papa went away to South America when I was eight. He told me I must be very wise and help mama to do what was right,—sometimes she does take my advice, you know. I’ve tried to be brave so God would bring her back to me; but my braveness isn’t very strong yet, or I wouldn’t cry so, would I?” she questioned, with a teary little smile..
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As the door into the dining-room opened to the little guests, St. Elmo Mifsud’s eyes almost darted out of his head, for there on the centre of a bountifully-spread table stood an enormous chocolate cake with eleven candles burning on it. The revelation supplied a fitting climax for the epochal event of a thrilling picture show. Betty entered the room last and was rendered almost speechless when she saw the birthday cake. She knew it would have one more candle than the cake for her last birthday had, but, O wonder of wonders! Around the edge was a wreath of morning-glories, made of pink and white icing, and in the heart of each was a silver dew-drop! “Thought I’d eloped? I ought to when I’ve brought you an extra mouth to feed.” He was splashing and spluttering in the lavatory off the kitchen. In his overcoat Mr. Zalhambra seemed to fill the doorway as Mrs. Newman greeted him. A moment’s private talk and the hostess understood the situation. From the drawing-room a ripple of childish laughter reached their ears..
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