"Yes," said May, laughing at her cousin's consternation. "We can dine
now. I have some cold roast beef, bread and butter, and a pie, left
from yesterday."

"Oh, heavens! what a bill of fare; but let us have it, for I am
famishing."

"Before you get even that, my dear, you must help about a little.
Here, spread the cloth, and cut the bread; I will do the rest."

"Spread the cloth, and cut the bread! I don't know how!"

"Learn," said May, half diverted, half angry with the selfish one, as
she handed her the tablecloth, which was put on one-sided, while the
bread was cut in _chunks_. When May came in from the pantry, a
butler's room as it used to be in the time of the old marquis, Helen
was crying over a bleeding finger, which she had cut in her awkward
attempts to slice the bread.

"This is a bad business," said May, binding it up. "Helen, I really
feel very sorry for you. You will have so many disheartening trials in
your new way of life; but keep a brave heart--I will learn you all that
I know, if you are only willing."

"Thank you, May, that is very nice. I don't care much about learning
such low pursuits; but give me something to eat," was her polite reply.

May crossed herself when she sat down, and asked the blessing of God on
the food she was to partake of. Helen fell to, without a thought of