"Shall I carry the tray up for you?" said Arthur, as he opened the door for his sister.
"No, no; Molly had better go. You might upset Mamma," interrupted Annie.
Mrs. Murray was an invalid, and had all her meals in her own sitting-room upstairs, seldom taking any part in the family life. It had always been so, as long as Arthur could remember. Occasionally friends would call and spend a few hours with her, and her two daughters of course spent a good deal of their time in her room; but since she had been obliged to give up the attendance and company of her own private maid, she had been fairly content with her two Persian cats, who always had their quarters in her sitting-room, sharing their mistress's meals for the most part. It was for these favourites that the biscuits were wanted, and Molly knew there would be complaining when her mother saw there was only bread and butter on the tray.
"Poor Tuffy and Bob have been wanting their tea for the last hour," said Mrs. Murray, merging her own complaint into that of her pets, as they came purring round at the sight of Molly and the tray.
"It is all my fault, Mamma, that tea is so late; I promised to see to Hannah's work, and forgot all about it."
"I don't blame you, Molly. Of course we never can do with only one servant, and I told Annie so from the first. You have forgotten the biscuits," she added sharply, as she looked over the tray. "My poor Tuffy, they never think of you!" added the lady.
"There are no biscuits in the house, Mamma, and—and so we thought the cats might have a piece of bread and butter for once."
"Cats!" exclaimed the lady. "If they were mere cats, and not my pets and companions, they might be expected to eat common food, but you know they are dainty and delicate as I am myself, and they cannot eat what mere cats could."
"But, Mamma, Annie said last week that we were using too many biscuits in the house now."
For answer Mrs. Murray burst into tears. "Take the tray away," she said; "I cannot eat and see my pets starve."