upstairs, and I wouldn't part with 'em to anybody."

"I admire your pride," said Mrs. Church. "Next door to pride comes
honesty. I am sometimes inclined to believe that it comes afore pride;
but we needn't dispute that delicate point at present. And the silver
forks. My word!--Tom, my boy, pass me a fork to examine."

Tom took up a fork and handed it to Mrs. Church.

"Hall-marked and all!" she said.

She laid it down with emphasis.

"Perhaps you know," she said, fixing her beady black eyes upon Mrs.
Hopkins's face, "that I'll be very low as regards victuals for the rest
of this week. But never mind; I am never one to press what it ain't
convenient to return. Ah! and here comes the dinner. Well, I will say
that I have a good appetite.--You can push me right up to the table,
Tom, my boy."

Tom did push the old lady into the most comfortable seat. She now
removed her mittens, put a napkin on her lap, and bent forward with a
look of appetite to regard the different dishes which Ellen, the tiny
twelve-year-old servant, brought in. Ellen trembled very much in the
company of the old lady, and Mrs. Hopkins trembled still more. But Susy,
who saw no reason why she should bow down before Aunt Church, ate her
good dinner with appetite, tossed her little head, and felt that she was
making a sensation. Tom was very attentive to Mrs. Church, and helped
her to a large glass of ginger-wine. She thoroughly enjoyed her dinner,
and, while she was eating it, forgot all about Susy and the pale-blue
cashmere blouse.

But when the meat had been followed by the apple-pudding, and the
apple-pudding by some coffee which was served in real china cups, and
Mrs. Church had folded her napkin and swept the crumbs from her
bombazine dress, and Mrs. Hopkins, assisted by Susy, had removed the
cloth, and the little maid had swept up the hearth, Mrs. Church began to
recollect herself. It is true she was no longer hungry nor cold, for the
fire was plentiful, and the sun also poured in at the small window. But
Mrs. Church had a memory and, as she believed, a grievance. In her tiny
house on the common four miles away firing was scarce, and food was
scarcer. The owner of the house did not care to spend more than a very
limited sum of money on coals and food. There was nothing in the cottage
for Mrs. Church's supper except a bit of stale cake, a hunch of brown
bread, and a little tea. The tea would have to be drunk without milk,
and with only a modicum