Mamma does not let me drink tea, except when I am sick." Molly had discharged her conscience, and gave herself now to her own enjoyment.

One cup of tea was a mere circumstance; Daisy filled and refilled it; Molly swallowed the tea as if cupfuls had been mouthfuls.
It was a subject of question to Daisy whether the poor creature had had any other meal that day; so eager she was, and so difficult to satisfy with the sponge cake.

Slice after slice; and Daisy cut more, and put a tiny fresh pinch of tea into the tea-pot, and waited upon her with inexpressible tenderness and zeal.

Molly exhausted the tea-pot and left but a small remnant of the cake.

Daisy was struck with a sudden fear that she might have been neglected and really want things to eat.