"Humph!" said the old lady. "He may have all that, and yet be starving
before your eyes. There isn't a man, woman, or child, in or about
Thorbury, who really lives well--excepting, perhaps, myself."

Mrs. Tolbridge smiled. "I think you do manage to live very well,
Miss Panney."

"Yes," said the other, "and I'd like to manage to have my friends live
well, too. By the way, did you ever make rum-flake for the doctor when
he comes in tired and faint?"

"I never heard of it," replied the other.

"I thought as much," said Miss Panney. "Well, you take the whites of two
eggs and beat them up, and while you are beating you sprinkle rum over
the egg, from a pepper caster, which you ought to keep clean to use for
this and nothing else. Then you should sift in sugar according to taste,
and when you have put a dry macaroon, which has been soaking in rum all
this time, in the bottom of a glass saucer, you pile the flake over it,
and it's ready for him, except that sometimes you put in,--let me see!--a
little orange juice, I think, but I've got the recipe there in my
scrap-book, and I can find it in a minute." So saying, the old lady threw
aside the coverlid, and jumped to the floor with the activity of a cat.

Mrs. Tolbridge burst out laughing.

"I declare, Miss Panney!" she exclaimed, "you have your dress on."

"What of that?" said the old lady, opening a drawer. "A warm dress is a
good thing to wear, at least I have always found it so."