"Why?" asked Maizie.
"Because he is our father and he must have the nice things."
"Well, we're his children," pursued Maizie, apparently unconvinced. "And I don't see why we shouldn't have some nice things to eat, too."
"But there's so many of us," said Suzanna.
"Why did father leave orders for so many of us then?" said Maizie looking up. Belligerence was now in her tone, in her very attitude.
"Now," said Mrs. Procter, firmly. "We must not talk this way. Father doesn't like syrup. It doesn't agree with him. You're a very naughty little girl this morning, Maizie."
Maizie was again on the point of tears. Lest they overflow she rose quickly from the table and left the room.
"Maizie's in a bad humor today," said Mrs. Procter to Suzanna.
"Maybe she feels bad today, mother, because it's Wednesday."
"Well, what in the world has the day to do with it!" Mrs. Procter exclaimed.