“Would you let me fetch another pat of butter, ma’am?” said Mrs. Crupp. “Or would you be persuaded to try a new-laid hegg? or should I brile a rasher? Ain’t there nothing I could do for your dear aunt, Mr. Copperfull?”

“Nothing, ma’am,” returned my aunt. “I shall do very well, I thank you.”

Mrs. Crupp, who had been incessantly smiling to express sweet temper, and incessantly holding her head on one side, to express a general feebleness of constitution, and incessantly rubbing her hands, to express a desire to be of service to all deserving objects, gradually smiled herself, one-sided herself, and rubbed herself, out of the room. “Dick!” said my aunt. “You know what I told you about timeservers and wealth-worshippers?”