A small army of workmen had appeared at Lislehurst, and the village folk were beginning to realise the incredible fact that their marquess did at length intend to do his duty by them, when Pauly’s fifth birthday came round.
“May I have him to tea with me?” Sydney asked, and on receiving permission began to make extensive preparations in the way of good cheer.
Mrs. Fewkes was easily induced to devote her energies to the making of a truly stupendous cake, conical in shape and covered with white sugar, adorned with amazing flowers and fruits of all colours. And there were birds, butterflies, and beetles made of chocolate upon it, and five pink candles fixed around its topmost peak, to signify the five years which the small birthday king would have reached.
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Not content with this marvel of confectionery, Mrs. Fewkes further added dishes of cream, buns, and other delicacies for which she was deservedly famous, so altogether Pauly’s birthday tea bid fair to be a very great success.
It was spread in the school-room, and on his plate was seated a large furry toy dog, with red tongue hanging out in a dégagé manner, and a spring which, when pressed, caused him to jump uncertainly about, and also bark in a thin and spasmodic way. This was Sydney’s present to the hero of the day. Miss Osric had contributed a box of bricks, which stood upon his chair.
All was in readiness at four o’clock, when Pauly arrived in charge of his nurse, looking rather extra fat and red about the cheeks, Sydney thought.
He was immensely excited over something and would not wait, as she suggested, to take off his little overcoat upstairs, but insisted on removing it the very moment he had set two rather muddy little feet inside the hall.
The reason of his eagerness was soon apparent. The blouse and bunchy petticoats were raiment of the past; Pauly was attired in all the glories of his first sailor suit!
Sydney knelt down beside the small sturdy
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 figure and kissed the round important little face. “Why, Pauly, you are splendid! and what a great big boy you look to-day!”
“As big as Daddy?” he enquired.
“Ever so much bigger than you looked when first I saw you,” Sydney answered, evading the question with dexterity. “Isn’t he a man to-day, Miss Osric?”
Miss Osric admired duly, and then suggested an adjournment to the school-room. But Pauly stood like a rock, his legs planted wide apart and his hands in his pockets.
“Want to show my twousers to Mrs. Fewkes,” he said.
“Oh, but you can’t, little man,” said Miss Osric.
“Come, Pauly!” Sydney cried.
He did not budge.
“Want to show my twousers to Mr. Gweaves.”
Sydney and Miss Osric exchanged puzzled glances. What was to be done? Of course he was naughty, but neither liked to scold him on a birthday.
Sydney had recourse to coaxing.
“There is such a lovely cake upstairs,” she said, “a cake as high as that.” She held her hand some distance from the floor. “It has
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 sugar all over it and such lovely fruits and sweets, white and pink, and all kinds of nice things upon it. Don’t you want to see it, Pauly?”
He scorned bribery. “Want to show my twousers to the ill one!”
“What, dear?”
“To the ill one. Want to show my twousers to the ill one!”
“Lord St. Quentin, I suppose he means,” Miss Osric said aside to Sydney. “But I don’t think he would like to see the child, do you?”
Sydney was rather doubtful. “There is something so wonderful upstairs in your plate, Pauly,” she assured him insidiously; “something that has such a nice funny voice, and jumps about too, doesn’t it, Miss Osric?”
Pauly put one irresolute foot forward in the direction of the bear-guarded staircase, and then drew it back again.
“Want to show my twousers to the ill one,” he said, in the same loud sing-song voice as he had used before.
It is sad to relate that two grown-up girls were worsted by this scrap of manhood wearing to-day manly gar............