They both looked most astonished. Violet said, “Of course I have, I always do,” which is quite true, but I thought she might just have forgotten that once. That was the worst of Violet though, she was so good she made a perfectly horrid heathen. Teddy only laughed and said, “Fräulein forgot to wash mine and now she’s gone out. Hooray!” So then I began to talk quite properly. I said, “That doesn’t make the least difference; you should do your duty in life, if any one is there to make you or not.” I said lots more, too, just as nice. I said, “It’s a horrible habit to sit down to table with dirty hands, and any gentleman would scorn such a foul deed.” I made him come with me to wash them at once, though he didn’t like it, ’specially when I cut his nails, every one, and pushed them all down most beautifully. The other two had nearly finished tea by the time we came back. It _was_ naughty of them. Of course, I had to tell them of it, so I began to talk again, but really, it wasn’t a bit crossly. I spoke more in sorrow than in anger. I said that such disgraceful behaviour was excusable in Violet, as she was so little, but that I should have thought that Humphrey would have known better. I said that in any respectable society they always waited to begin meals for the Pourer Out. They both looked very cross, but they didn’t say anything. For one thing, Humph’s mouth was too full. Suddenly he got down from his chair without asking any permission, and walked across to the fireplace. Then he started toasting his bread and butter! Well, I really didn’t want to make any more fusses, but what was I to do? Fräulein had particularly said we weren’t to toast our slices, because the butter will drip about, besides its being too nice to be good for you. So I just said very firmly, “Come and sit in your place this minute.” Well, he didn’t. Being a missionary is very difficult. Of course I started talking again, though I’d hardly had a bit of tea, and I was most hungry. I said that Humphrey was disobeying Fräulein, who had been set in authority over us, and that it was just as bad as breaking laws, and that he might as well commit murder or anything. I said very likely one day he would. He said he didn’t care, and that it didn’t say anything in the Bible about not making toast, and that Mother had never told us not to either. I said any way Mother had always told us to do what Fräulein said, but it all wasn’t the least use. I had to let him do it, for I couldn’t threaten to tell Fräulein--that seemed too mean. I couldn’t drag him away either, because he’d got the slice on his knife, and I thought he might get cut. Of course, I might have got hurt too, but that would have been quite right for a missionary, and rather nice. Any way, I determined that he shouldn’t do any more, so I took the plate with all the rest of the bread and butter on my lap and held it tight. Then I sat in silence and dignity.