“By no manner of means, without thou hast the chance,” answered Margaret satirically, but still quietly. “Very well,—thou hast chosen thy share,—take it. Three for each of us three, and two over. Shall we give them to Jack? What say ye?”
“Jack!” cried Blanche, dancing about on the grass.
Clare assented shyly, and she and Blanche received their three cakes each.
“Must I have none, Meg?” demanded Lucrece in an injured tone.
“Oh ay! keep what thou hast,” said Margaret, calmly munching the first of her own three cakes.
“Who said I had any?”
“I said it. I know thee, as Father saith to Jack. Thou hast made thy bed,—go lie thereon.”
Lucrece marched slowly away, looking highly indignant; but before she was quite out of sight, the others saw her slip her hand into her pocket, bring out one of the little cakes, and bite it in two. Margaret laughed when she saw Clare’s look of shocked solemnity.
“I said she had them,—the sly-boots!” was her only comment.
Clare finished her cakes, and ran off to Barbara, who, seated under the ash-tree, had witnessed the whole scene.