"_What_ would she not give?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing!" Frances shook her elbows, as if troubled by Mary's
inquiries, but the tears continued flowing down her cheeks.

Just at that moment their sister Anne came into the room, singing in
the joy of her heart, with a piece of plum-cake in her hand, holding
it up, and turning it about before her sisters to exhibit her
newly-acquired possession, on which Frances fixed her eyes with eager
gaze, and the tears flowed still faster, accompanied with a kind of
angry sob.

"Frances! what is the matter that you are crying so? see what I have
got! you will spoil all the happiness of our feast."


At the word _feast_, Frances' tears seemed arrested, and her
mouth looked as if she were going to smile. She left the corner, and
immediately prepared to do her part for the feast, setting a little
square table, and then, drawing her own little stool, seated herself
in readiness as a guest.

"Stay," said Anne, "we will make some little paper dishes and
plates, and divide the cake;" so saying, she began the operation, and
laying down the paper dishes, "there at the top, see! there shall be
two chickens, at the bottom a piece of beef, at one side some
potatoes, and at the other some cauliflower;" breaking her cake into