"This fellow's dreadful on history?" said Norton to Matilda. "I used to think," he went on as the coloured waiter just then came in with coffee, "I used to think there were some of Ham's children left yet."
"But not a nation," said David.
The one of Ham's children in question came round to them at this minute, and the talk was interrupted by the business of cream and sugar. The four children were all round the coffee tray, when Mrs. Laval's voice was heard calling Matilda. Matilda went across the room to her.
"Are they giving you coffee, my darling?" said Mrs. Laval, putting her arm round her.
"I was just going to have some."
"I don't want you to take it. Will it seem very hard to deny yourself?"
"Why no," said Matilda; then with an effort,—"No, mamma; not if you wish me to let it alone."
"I do. I don't want this delicate colour on your cheek," and she touched it as she spoke, "to grow thick and muddy; I want the skin to be as fair and clear as it is now."
"Norton takes coffee," said Mrs. Bartholomew.
"I know. Norton is a boy. It don't matter."