The child drooped down from head to foot, from her glad, eager attitude, in a moment; and a shame that only rebuked childhood knows, dreaming of nought more shameful than the present fault whereof it stands convicted, rushed over her, hot and scarlet.
"Mrs. Fairbrother asked me," she murmured faintly, "and ma won't let me eat plum cake."
"If Mrs. Fairbrother asked you five times, three times you should have said, 'No, I thank you.'"
"But," persisted the culprit, more confidently now, feeling suddenly to have the great Angel, Truth, upon her side, "she asked me if I wanted some more: and I did!"
Aunt Prue was silent.
"You should have said 'No, I thank you,' all the same," admonished the mother. "It wasn't polite."
"Polite!" cried aunt Prue, aside. "Better tell her not to be greedy."
"And what do you suppose all those people think of you now?"
Mrs. Gair flung this last shaft,--a great battle-axe of world's-opin