"Where are my oysters?" Miss Bertha demanded, with a frown, after the servant had named over the various viands upon the table, and she discovered that her order had been ignored.
"The man did not bring them, Miss Bertha," the girl answered.
"But I want some broiled oysters," persisted the unreasonable child.
"I am very sorry, I am sure——" began the servant, when Bertha interrupted her, angrily:
"That doesn't make any difference; I'm going to have the oysters, and I shall not eat any breakfast until I get them."
A threat of this kind usually resulted in somebody flying around to procure the desired delicacy, for the child was stubborn enough to keep her word, and it was believed it would never do to allow one born to such luxury to fast.
"I am sure this is a very nice breakfast, Bertha," Violet here interposed. "This broiled chicken is delicious; those hot rolls are just a lovely brown, and the sight of that golden omelet makes my mouth water."
But Bertha would not be coaxed—that had been tried too often already without avail. She threw herself back in her chair, a sullen, determined look on her face.
"Come, dear; I am really quite hungry," persevered Violet, as she took her by the hand to lead her to the table.
Bertha snatched it rudely away.