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Just as the key clicked in the lock and the front door opened, a bright face peeped over the baluster from the hall above. "Why, papa," said a dismayed voice, "you're very early and I'm not dressed. I wanted to be at the door to meet you tonight of all nights."

"I'm sorry I'm not welcome, Ruthie," said papa, pretending to be very much hurt. "Shall I go out and walk up and down the block until you are ready to receive me?"

"No, indeed, you absurd boy. I'll be down there in three minutes and a half. Don't get interested in a book, will you, for I want to talk with you."

"Ail right, my dear," replied papa dutifully, and Ruth flew off to her room to put the finishing touches to her toilet.

A few minutes later she appeared in the library with flushed cheeks and very bright eyes. "Now, Popsy, sit down here," she said, leading him to the big armchair and sitting down in front of him. "Do you know what day this is, sir?" she continued, trying to look very stern.

"I think I do," he answered meekly; "it's the seventeenth of

September, I believe."

"And what day is that?" still more sternly.

"That is, why, bless my soul, so it is, that's--"

"Your birthday," finished Ruth triumphantly. "And we're going to celebrate it just by ourselves. You aren't going out this evening, are you, Popsy?"

"No, dear, I shall be very glad to stay at home with you. I am afraid, though, that I shan't be a very good birthday boy, for there are some business plans that are troubling me, and I want to talk them over with you."

"Business plans?" said Ruth, surprised. "Why, papa, I never supposed

I could help you about business plans."

"These particular plans have so much to do with you, little girl, that it's only fair to tell you about them before I decide. However, we won't talk about them until after dinner, for I'm as hungry as a bear."

"Well, do run upstairs and get ready now, for dinner will be ready in a few minutes, and I'm dying to give you your birthday surprise."

"Dear me, I thought it was enough of a shock to have a birthday, without more surprises. Give it to me by degrees, please, for in my starving condition I can't bear much."

Ruth watched her father as he ran lightly up the stairs, and wondered if any other girl had such a great, strong, handsome papa. "He's my very best chum," she said to herself, "and sometimes he doesn't seem a bit older than I do."

Just as the maid announced dinner, papa appeared and Ruth met him at the foot of the stairs with a sweeping courtesy. He responded with a ceremonious bow, and the proffer of his arm, which Ruth took with great gravity.

"Aren't we grand?" she said in a satisfied tone. "It makes me feel dreadfully grown up to have you treat me so politely."

"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.

"It's for you to wear on your watch-chain," said Ruth. "Now open it."

Mr. Shirley pressed the tiny spring, and the locket flew open disclosing two miniatures beautifully painted. One of Ruth with merry brown eyes and brown curls tied in a knot in her neck, and the other of a sweet-faced, tender-eyed woman whom Ruth much resembled.

"Popsy, dear," said Ruth, "I couldn't think of anything you would like half so well as these, so I took the money Uncle Jerry sent me last birthday and had them painted for you. Isn't it sweet of mamma?" she added softly.