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frowned-"you might want to begin all the way at number eight."

    Elizabeth knew she shouldn't have said a word, but some devil inside forced her to ask, "And what is that?"

    Susan read: " 'Your charm must appear effortless.' "

    "My charm must appear effortless? What the devil does that me-Ow!"

    "I think," Susan said in an annoyingly bland voice, "it might mean that you're not meant to wave your arms about so that your hand smacks the tabletop."

    If looks could have killed, Susan would have been bleeding profusely from the forehead.

    Susan stuck her nose in the air. "I can only speak the truth," she sniffed.

    Elizabeth continued glaring as she sucked on the back of her hand, as if pressing her lips to the
    spot were actually going to make it stop hurting.

    "Jane! Lucas!" she called again, this time practically yelling. "Hurry, now! Breakfast will get cold!"

    Jane came skipping into the kitchen and sat down. The Hotchkiss family had long ago dispensed with serving a formal morning meal in the dining room. Breakfast was always served in the
    kitchen. Besides, in the winter, everyone liked to sit near the stove. And in summer- well, habits were hard to break, Elizabeth supposed.

    Elizabeth smiled at her youngest sister. "You look a touch untidy this morning, Jane."

    "That's because somebody locked me out of my room last night," Jane said with a mutinous glare toward Susan. "I haven't even had a chance to brush my hair."

    "You could have used Lizzie's brush," Susan replied.

    "I like my brush," Jane shot back. "It's silver."

    Not real silver, Elizabeth thought wryly, or she would have had to sell it off already.

    "It still works just the same," Susan returned.

    Elizabeth put a halt to the bickering by yelling, "Lucas!"

    "Have we any milk?' Jane asked.

    "I'm afraid not, dear," Elizabeth replied, sliding an egg onto a plate. "Just enough for tea."

    Susan slapped a piece of bread on Jane's plate and said to Elizabeth, "About Edict Number Two ..."

    "Not now,'' Elizabeth hissed, with a pointed look toward Jane, who, thankfully, was too busy poking her finger into the bread to take notice of her older sisters.

    "My toast is raw," Jane said.

    Elizabeth didn't even have time to yell at Susan for forgetting to make the toast before Lucas came bounding in.

    "Good morning!" he said cheerfully.

    "You seem especially chipper," Elizabeth said, tousling his hair before serving him breakfast.

    "I'm going fishing today with Tommy Fairmount and his father." Lucas gobbled three-quarters of his egg before adding, "We shall eat well tonight!"

    "That's wonderful, dear," Elizabeth said. She glanced at the small clock on the counter, then said, "I must be off. You lot will make certain the kitchen gets cleaned?'

    Lucas nodded. "I shall supervise."

    "You shall help."

    "That, too," he grumbled. "May I have another egg?"

    Elizabeth's own stomach growled in sympathy. "We haven't any extras," she said.

    Jane looked at her suspiciously. "You didn't eat anything, Lizzie."

    "I eat breakfast with Lady Danbury," Elizabeth lied.

    "Have mine." Jane pushed what was left of her breakfast-two bites of egg and a wad of bread so mangled that Elizabeth would have had to have been far, far hungrier even to sniff at it-across the table.

    "You finish it, Janie," Elizabeth said. "I'll eat at Lady Danbury's. I promise."

    "I shall have to catch a very big fish," she heard Lucas whisper to Jane.

    And that was the final straw. Elizabeth had been resisting this husband hunt; she hated how
    mercenary she felt for even considering it. But no more. What kind of world was it when eight-year-old boys worried about catching fish, not because of sport, but because they worried about filling their sisters' stomachs?

    Elizabeth threw her shoulders back and marched to the door. "Susan," she said sharply, "a word with you?"

    Jane and Lucas exchanged glances. "She's going to get it because she forgot to cook the toast,"
    Jane whispered.

    "Raw toast," Lucas