He took up his plate and proceeded downstairs, returning presently, to the surprise of everyone, with quite a large portion on his plate.

“He couldn’t very well refuse,” he chuckled.  “Colonel Bryant is there; but he looked a bit mad here, Fizz, I’ll, go you halves.”

Judy pushed up her plate eagerly at this unusually magnanimous offer, and received a very small division, a fifth part, perhaps, with great gratitude.

“I just love fowl,” said Nell longingly; “I’ve a great mind to go down and ask for a wing—­I believe he’d give it to me.”

These disrespectful children, as I am afraid you will have noticed, always alluded to their father as “he.”

Nell took up another plate, and departed slowly to the lower regions.  She followed into the dining-room at the heels of the housemaid, and stood by the side of her father, her plate well behind her.

“Well, my little maid, won’t you shake hands with me?  What is your name?” said Colonel Bryant, tapping her cheek playfully.

Nell looked up with shy, lovely eyes.

“Elinor Woolcot, but they call me Nell,” she said, holding out her left hand, since her right was occupied with the plate.

“What a little barbarian you are, Nell!” laughed her father; but he gave her a quick, annoyed glance.  “Where is your right hand?”

She drew it slowly from behind and held out the cracked old plate.  “I thought perhaps you would give me some fowl too,” she said—­ “just a leg or a wing, or bit of breast would do.”

The Captain’s brow darkened.  “What is the meaning of this?  Pip has just been to me, too.  Have you nothing to eat in the nursery?”

“Only bread and butter, very thick,” sighed Nellie.

Esther suppressed a smile with difficulty.

“But you had dinner, all of you, at one o’clock.”

“Boiled mutton and carrots and rice pudding,” said Nell mournfully.

Captain Woolcot severed a leg almost savagely and put it on her plate.

“Now run away; I don’t know what has possessed you two to-night.”

Nellie reached the door, then turned back.

“Oh, if you would just give me a wing for poor Meg—­Judy had some of Pip’s, but Meg hasn’t any,” she said, with a beautiful look of distress that quite touched Colonel Bryant.

Her father bit his lip, hacked off a wing in ominous silence, and put it upon her plate.

“Now run away,—­and don’t let me have any more of this nonsense, dear.”  The last word was a terrible effort.

Nell’s appearance with the two portions of fowl was hailed with uproarious applause in the nursery; Meg was delighted with her share; cut apiece off for Baby, and the meal went on merrily.

“Where’s Bunty? “, said Nell, pausing suddenly with a very clean drumstick in her fingers, “because I hope he hasn’t gone too; someway I don’t think Father was very pleased, especially as that man was there.”