e. "Eat it,
dear," she said softly, and Poppy never in her life was more glad to obey.

Angela stepped forward, colouring a little. "Please, I want four farthing
tea-cakes," she said, as calmly as she could speak. She was painfully
conscious of Mrs. Vercoe's look of surprise. "And--and please," she went
on, growing painfully embarrassed, for it was not easy now it had come to
the point, "do you want an egg, Mrs. Vercoe?"

Mrs. Vercoe looked even more surprised, but she only said civilly that she
"could do with a dozen."

"I've only one at present," said Angela. "It is one my own hen laid, but
you can have some more to-morrow morning."

"Very well, my dear," said amiable Mrs. Vercoe, "that will do. I'll put
the one here until I get the rest. Shall I give you the money, missie, or
would Miss Ashe prefer to have it in goods?"

"Oh please," said poor Angela, "this one is my own, and I should like--
some more tea-cakes for it."

"Tea-cakes!" said Mrs. Vercoe in a bewildered voice. "Why, yes, my dear,
of course; but--you'll excuse my asking, but--there isn't nothing the
matter, is there?" she inquired confidentially, peering at them over her
big glasses.

Then Esther stepped forward. "Yes, Mrs. Vercoe, there is. It's--it's
nothing wrong that we've done, but you must promise not to say a word
about it to anybody, please. It wouldn't have mattered _quite_ so much,
but now we have pretended to Cousin Charlotte that we enjoyed our lunch it
would be dreadful. You will never say a word to any one, will you,
Mrs. Vercoe?"

Mrs. Vercoe promised solemnly, whereupon the four tongues were unloosed,
and the whole tale of the calamity and their hunger and disappointment was
poured out. Mrs. Vercoe listened with the keenest interest, every now and
then raising her two fat hands in amazement, then resting them again on
her plump sides.

"Oh, my dears! oh, my dears!" she kept gasping. "What owdacious
wickedness there do be in this world, to be sure. To think of it! Well, I
never did! And if they ain't caught and punished it'll be no more nor
less than a crying shame."

By the time they had finished she was leading them all into her little
parlour, bent on making tea for them and preparing them a good meal;
but Esther would not hear of it.

"Thank you very much," she said warmly, "but if we may have a few
tea-cakes it will be quite enough. We only want something to prevent our
feeling so hungry and faint and hor