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"
The tarts, indeed, were wonderful things to look at, resembling, as
Miriam had said, a plateful of little chimneys, with a sort of swallow's
nest of jam at the top, but Ralph did not laugh at them.
"Wait until their turn comes," said Ralph, "and I will give my opinion
about them."
When he had finished the substantial part of the meal, he drew the plate
of tarts toward him.
"I will show you how to eat the Cobhurst tart. You cut it down from top
to bottom: then you lay the two sections on their rounded sides: then you
get a lot more of jam, which I see you have on the side table, and you
spread the cut surfaces with it: then you put it together as it was
before, and slice it along its shorter diameter. Good?" said he; "they
are delicious."
Miriam took a piece. "It is good enough," she said, "but it is not a
tart. If Dora Bannister had made them, they would have been real tarts."
"It is very well I said nothing about the dog," thought Ralph; and then
he said aloud, "It is not Dora Bannister that we have to consider; it is
Molly Tooney.


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