“Then, indeed,” said Betty, “I’m afraid Mrs. Strathspey will be likely to go without her breakfast here; for not a spoonful of honey have we, let her long for it ever so much.” “But, surely,” said Bab, “we can contrive to get some honey in the neighbourhood.” “There’s none to be bought, as I know of,” said Betty. “But is there none to be begged or borrowed?” said Bab, laughing. “Do you forget Susan’s beehive? Step over to her in the morning with _my compliments_, and see what you can do. Tell her it’s for Mrs. Strathspey.” In the morning Betty went with Miss Barbara’s compliments to Susan, to beg some honey for Mrs. Strathspey, who could not breakfast without it. Susan did not like to part with her honey, because her mother loved it, and she therefore gave Betty but a small quantity. When Barbara saw how little Susan sent, she called her _a miser_, and she said she _must_ have some more for Mrs. Strathspey. “I’ll go myself and speak to her. Come with me, Betty,” said the young lady, who found it at present convenient to forget her having declared, the day that she sucked up the broth, that she never would honour Susan with another visit. “Susan,” said she, accosting the poor girl, whom she had done everything in her power to injure, “I must beg a little more honey from you for Mrs. Strathspey’s breakfast. You know, on a particular occasion such as this, neighbours must help one another.” “To be sure they should,” added Betty. Susan, though she was generous, was not weak; she was willing to give to those she loved, but not disposed to let anything be taken from her, or coaxed out of her, by those she had reason to despise. She civilly answered, that she was sorry she had no more honey to spare. Barbara grew angry, and lost all command of herself, when she saw that Susan, without regarding her reproaches, went on looking through the glass pane in the beehive. “I’ll tell you what, Susan Price,” said she, in a high tone, “the honey I _will_ have, so you may as well give it to me by fair means. Yes or no! Speak! Will you give it me or not? Will you give me that piece of the honey-comb that lies there?” “That bit of honey-comb is for my mother’s breakfast,” said Susan; “I cannot give it you.”