"I used to do so," said Mrs. B., "but I haven't had any made these two months."
"Ah! Why not?" said Mrs. A.
"Why, it is some trouble; and then, though it is cheap, it is cheaper not to have any; and, on the whole, the children are quite as well contented without it, and so we are fallen into the way of not having any."
"But one must keep some kind of cake in the house," said Mrs. A.
"So I have always heard, and thought, and practised," said Mrs. B.; "but really of late I have questioned the need of it."
The conversation gradually digressed from this point into various intricate speculations on domestic economy, and at last each lady went home to put her children to bed.
A fortnight after, the two ladies were again in conclave at Mrs. B.'s tea table, which was graced by some unusually nice gingerbread.
"I thought you had given up making gingerbread," said Mrs. A.; "you told me so a fortnight ago at my house."
"So I had," said Mrs. A.; "but since that conversation I have been making it again."
"Why so?"