"When it is starved to death," answered Hugh.
Minnie looked distressed, and Alice rather defiant. "I mean to attend to him every morning before I taste my own breakfast."
"Oh, I am sure we shall think of him," said Agnes, joining the circle, while her hand pulled the bell for the servants, "we are so used to giving him his bath that his food will be sure to be remembered."
And then they sat down for their first prayers without their parents; and Agnes read with a voice that trembled nervously at first, but as she proceeded she took courage. Their text flashed across her, and she felt that what He wished her to do now was just this, and the thought made her wonderfully happy.
When they sat at dinner—Agnes taking the top of the table and John the bottom—Hugh exclaimed:
"How awfully funny it is without father and mother!"
Minnie looked up quickly, and then looked down, and her knife and fork fell from her fingers.
John turned towards her kindly. "Why, Minnie," he said, "think how much good the change may do them; and if it were you, you would want to see your own mother, wouldn't you, after twenty years?"
This roused Minnie's sympathy. She had never thought such a thing possible before as being separated from her mother for so long; so she swallowed down her tears and began her dinner, which, in spite of her woe-begone feelings, tasted very nice.
"What shall you do with yourself after dinner. John?" asked Hugh.