"Yes, only when I'm with you it always seems as if she were close by, too."

"Happy thought! Perhaps, it's because I'm partial to being in her neighborhood myself. There goes the bell--I'll be here at 4:30 sharp."

Chicken Little was not the only unfortunate that afternoon. Two small boys were late at noon and Miss Brown set them all to writing long lists from their spellers as soon as the other children filed out. Chicken Little watched the clock anxiously, starting up at every distant tinkle of sleigh bells. It was a glorious clear crisp afternoon and the jingle of bells sounded at frequent intervals.

Her excitement rose as half-past four approached. Finally, just as the clock chimed the half hour, an answering chime tinkled in the distance and two or three minutes later, ceased suddenly in front of the school building.

Chicken Little ran quickly down the walk and there they all were. d.i.c.k Harding had a lovely double-seated cutter with white horses and two gay strings of sleigh bells on each horse. Packed snugly in under the bright colored robes were Katy and Gertie and Grace and sister Marian--and the entire family of dolls. d.i.c.k Harding had insisted on the dolls. He said he never approved of parents leaving their offspring at home to cry their eyes out, while they went skylarking.

Katy had secured the place next to their host and Chicken Little looked enviously as she started to climb in. But d.i.c.k Harding made room for her beside him, saying finally:

"I believe I am to have the honor of having Miss Morton and the birthday sit beside me."

A shadow of disappointment crossed Katy's face. Marian made a little sign to Jane and the child responded bravely.

"I guess Katy ought to have the best place 'cause she's company."

"The queen has spoken," replied d.i.c.k Harding with an approving smile.

"Perhaps, I might hold the birthday on my lap."

"I wouldn't trust him with it Jane. Young lawyers always want to be older than they are," laughed Marian.

Jane made an elaborate pretense of handing over the birthday.

"You see Chicken Little Jane has a better opinion of me than you,"

retorted d.i.c.k. "Miss Morton, which way shall we go?"

The children were riotously happy. Mr. Harding let each child choose a direction to turn, and they whirled around corners and drove by each small guest's home in great state, so that mothers and sisters might see.

Bright hoods and caps and coats made the sleigh load look like a nosegay and d.i.c.k Harding treated them all with an exaggerated courtesy that kept them merry.

They landed at the Morton front gate at six o'clock. It was quite dark but the street lamps were lit and the cheer of gas and firelight streamed out from the old gabled house invitingly.

"This was a mighty sweet thing to do, d.i.c.k," said Marian as he helped her out.

"The pleasure is mine," he responded gallantly, "further I'm going to claim a toll of one kiss and a half from every pa.s.senger under twelve years of age."

The toll was paid promptly. He was most exacting as to the half kiss, demanding full measure. Marian insisted that the dolls came under the ruling, too, but he begged off. He said he felt it would be taking unfair advantage of their extreme youth.

But Chicken Little and Katy were too much for him. They declared that Marian's doll was older than any of them. So Mr. Harding duly took a peck at Seraphina's pallid cheek to the huge delight of the children.

The hot biscuit and chicken tasted doubly delicious after the long ride in the sharp air. Grace Dart took two servings of quince preserves but declined the apple b.u.t.ter saying she could get that at home.

At the close of the repast Dr. and Mrs. Morton and Frank and Ernest came in to share the birthday cake. Ernest was the only one who could blow out all the candles at one fell swoop. When the last morsel had vanished Chicken Little had another surprise. Dr. Morton went out into the hall and pulled a large white envelope out of his overcoat pocket addressed to "Miss Jane Morton." It was postmarked Cincinnati.

"Oh, it's something from Alice--I just know--open it quick!"

"Bet it's a valentine," guessed Ernest.

"Yes, it looks like one of those beautiful lacy ones with hearts and doves on it," said Katy.

It not only looked, it was--the very fluffiest, laciest one Jane had ever seen, with marvellous cupids and hearts, and forget-me-nots and true lover's knots of blue ribbon. In a little white envelope inside was a tiny gold ring.

Chicken Little gave one squeal of ecstasy:

"Isn't it cunning--I always wanted a ring. Whatever do you s'pose made Alice think of it?"

"She didn't," said Mrs. Morton, "the valentine is from Alice, but her Uncle Joseph sent the ring. It seems he liked your letter and when Alice mentioned getting the valentine he wanted to send something too. You'll have to write him another letter to thank him."

"That reminds me that I saw Ga.s.sett on the street this morning. He looks pretty badly still," remarked Dr. Morton.

"Well, he can't get Alice's papers now 'cause she's got them way off in Cincinnati," said Chicken Little.

"Huh, that doesn't make any difference--they could make her send them back," Ernest replied.

Chicken Little turned to her father.

"No need to borrow trouble, Chicken, Alice has an Uncle Joseph to look after her now, anyway. Has it been a happy birthday, pet?"

CHAPTER XII

POOR ERNEST AND POOR MARIAN

Ernest was so tired of being pitied he was in open rebellion.

"For goodness' sake, don't 'poor' me any more! My eyes will be all right as soon as they get a good rest--the doctor said so. I guess I can stand it if they don't hurt like sin. Everybody comes in like a funeral procession asking me how I feel, and hoping it will be a lesson to me to take better care of my eyes. People needn't rub it in because a fellow's down--and the last thing he wants to think of is how he feels!"

"I think you must be feeling better, Ernest, or you wouldn't be so cross," retorted Marian slyly.

Ernest relaxed his gloom enough to grin.

"Well, I don't care--Mother hangs around babying me as if I were six years old!"

Ernest's catastrophe had come about so gradually no one had suspected it. He was reading a letter from Alice, who wrote a fine close hand, when his father noticed that he was holding the paper almost to his eyes. An examination revealed the fact that the poor eyes were sadly overstrained and would have to have a complete rest for weeks or his eyesight would be permanently injured.

This was distressing news to bookworm Ernest who was never so happy as when lost in a book. The lad was immensely proud of his school standing, too, and he chafed sadly at the thought of losing it.

"No school for three months, Son," his father said sorrowfully after the boy's eyes had been thoroughly tested.

"It must be a dark room and a bandage for three weeks at the very least, Dr. Allerton says."

Ernest groaned and growled rather more than usual to keep from breaking down and playing the baby, when he heard this verdict.

"It was all that confounded scroll work!"