Maggie took it and left the room, muttering:
"It's a ter'ble shame, a ter'ble shame."
Mrs. Davenport came in with the steaming broth.
"Here, dearie, is your broth."
Beth burst into tears. "I can't eat it. I just can't touch the horrid stuff. Please take it away."
Her mother did not attempt to argue the question. That afternoon, when the doctor came, she asked:
"Isn't there something else we can feed her on, doctor?"
He pondered for a moment. "Well, she seems to be improving a little, and if we could get a bird or a rabbit we might make her some broth out of that."
"I think rabbit broth would be delicious," cried Beth rapturously.
Mrs. Davenport said: