"Very well, we will wait," said Tom good-naturedly. "Don't cry, Rosy;" and Rosy's face brightened, while all the children watched the spoon as it went round and round, while the toffee gradually became darker and darker in colour, and an odour more strong than agreeable filled the kitchen.
At length the hand of the clock reached the point which marked Rosy's six minutes. All four cups were brought forward, all four spoons were dipped into the foaming liquid, and then emptied into the water. The toffee fell to the bottom in a dark cake, which hardened almost instantly, and which, when broken between the teeth, snapped without sticking at all, and tasted—ugh!
At this moment Mrs. Herbert appeared.
"I am afraid you are letting the toffee burn," she said; "we can smell it all over the house."
"It is rather burnt," said Tom.
"It does not taste so badly, though," said Margaret.
"Very likely we shall not taste the burnt part so much when it is cool," said Rosy.
"I am afraid you will have to throw the toffee away, my dears. It is sadly burnt."
"Oh, no, no!" said all the children at once.
"I thought we should have done better as there were four of us," said Margaret.