Now Mary Matilda had an older brother who had gone to a far-off
country to become rich, and to accomplish those great political
reforms to which his ambition inclined him. His name was Slosson, and
in the far-off country he fell in with two young men of his own age
who were of similar ambition. But they were even poorer than Slosson,
and what particularly grieved them was the fact that their lineage
was obscured by dark clouds of doubt. That is to say, they were
unable to determine with any degree of positiveness whether they were
of noble extraction; their parents refused to inform them, and
consequently they were deeply distressed, as you can well imagine.
Slosson was much charmed with their handsome bearing, chivalric ways,
and honorable aspirations, and his pity was evoked by their poverty
and their frequent sufferings for the very requirements of life.
Freely he shared his little all with them, in return for which they
gave him their gratitude and affection. One day Slosson wrote a
letter to his sister Mary Matilda, saying: "A hard winter is coming
on and our store of provisions is nearly exhausted. My two friends
are in much distress and so am I. We have accomplished a political
revolution, but under the civil service laws we can hardly expect an
office."

Mary Matilda was profoundly touched by this letter. Her tender heart
bled whenever she thought of her absent brother, and instinctively
her sympathies went out toward his two companions in distress. So in
her own quiet, maidenly way she set about devising a means for the
relief of the unfortunate young men. She made a cake, a beautiful
cake stuffed with plums and ornamented with a lovely design
representing the lost Pleiad, which you perhaps know was a young lady
who lived long ago and acquired eternal fame by dropping out of the
procession and never getting back again. Well, Mary Matilda put this