Tom laughed. "Perhaps not," he said.
Ada opened it again, and after some more fun produced sixpence. "It's my very last," she said, pretending to cry; "but I'll give it to my starving relatives."
"Oh, Ada, we don't want it!" exclaimed Dolly, looking sober. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," said Ada, smiling, "that you should get sixpennyworth of buns—halfpenny buns—and enjoy yourselves."
"Oh, jolly!" said Isabel. "You are kind, Ada."
"Sometimes," said Ada, rather grimly, thinking how little self-denial a sixpence was, compared to giving up one's wishes in some other things.
Tom looked interested, and began whispering about laying out the sixpence.
"Are we bound to get halfpenny buns?" asked Netta.
"Anything in the world you like," answered Ada, "with this reservation—that sixpence will buy it."
"Oh, that's all right then! We thought we would have three pennyworth of buns and three pennyworth of parliaments; they go so far, you know, Ada."