"I can't eat any more, sister. I cannot try any more."

Pamela opened her lips to make some reproach; she was a very "proper"
little girl, as you have probably discovered, but the words died away
before they were uttered, as her eyes fell on her own bowl, and with a
deep sigh she said:

"I'm afraid I can't finish mine either. And after us saying to Nurse
about going to be so good."

Her blue eyes began to look very dewy. Duke, who could not bear to see
his dear "sister" sad, spoke out (in Nurse's absence be it observed)
valiantly--more so, it must be confessed, than was his wont.

"I don't see that it's naughty of us not to eat more when us isn't
hungry for more. _I_ think it would be like little pigs to eat more than
they want. Little pigs would go on eating all day just 'cos they're too
silly, and they've got nothing else to do."

"But," objected Pamela, "us haven't eaten as much as us _can_, Duke, for
you know downstairs us _could_ eat Grandmamma's treat. _I_ could--I
could snap it up in a minute, and the tea too, and yet I _can't_ eat any
more bread and milk!" and she gazed at the bowl with a puzzled as well
as doleful expression. "I'm afraid--yes, I'm afraid, Duke, that us is
dainty like Master Frederick and Miss Lucy in 'Amusing Tales.' And Nurse
says it is so very naughty to be dainty when so many poor children would
fink our bread and milk such a great treat."

"I'm sure I wish, then, they'd come and eat it," said Duke. "I'd be very