Before we could get set to work with our baking, two visitors arrived for dinner, intimating that another of the same family might be expected for tea! Your pity, I pray! Nothing in the tea cake line, but plain bread in the house (in the recital of which sad tale lies a moral, I am aware).
There was nothing for it but to send secretly to the village for what good things could be bought.
At tea time we trembled when a privileged guest enquired as he lifted a slice of cake, “Your own baking?”
“No, “ we answered bravely, “we bought it at —-.”
Would the next question be, When did you buy it?
But curiosity was satisfied and we were saved the humiliation of further exposure.”