"Now, Margery"—a sudden hush followed the raising of the gentle tones—"are you going to conquer that pudding or are you going to let that pudding conquer you?"
The luckless Margery, who had brought an empty paper bag to lunch with felonious intent, started guiltily and reddened to the forehead.
"You know it is by overcoming—always by overcoming—the weaknesses in ourselves that we develop into worth-while members of the world's community," Mary continued.
"Or by coming it over other people," muttered Ferlie, sympathizing with Margery's sensations towards the grey mound of suet pushed to one side of her plate.
"It—it always makes me feel sick, Miss Mayne," faltered Margery hysterically.
"Imagination!" came from Martha's end of the table. "How can good wholesome food make anyone feel sick?"
Margery's mouth took an obstinate curve. She was not going to be intimidated by Martha, anyhow.
That lady, with twenty years' experience of Margeries behind her, probably sensed rebellion and decided the moment had arrived for brisk disciplinary methods.
"Eat it up, Margery, and don't be foolish," she said.
Margery sat very still.