drenched with a copious diffusion, and as suddenly poured forth--weak,
washy, and abominable,--into four cups, severally appertaining unto
the four partakers of the matutinal nectar.

Then the conversation began to flow. Mrs. Copperas was a fine lady,
and a sentimentalist,--very observant of the little niceties of phrase
and manner. Mr. Copperas was a stock-jobber and a wit,--loved a good
hit in each capacity; was very round, very short, and very much like a
John Dory; and saw in the features and mind of the little Copperas the
exact representative of himself.

"Adolphus, my love," said Mrs. Copperas, "mind what I told you, and
sit upright. Mr. Linden, will you allow me to cut you a leetle piece
of this roll?"

"Thank you," said Clarence, "I will trouble you rather for the whole
of it."

Conceive Mrs. Copperas's dismay! From that moment she saw herself
eaten out of house and home; besides, as she afterwards observed to
her friend Miss Barbara York, the "vulgarity of such an amazing
appetite!"

"Any commands in the city, Mr. Linden?" asked the husband; "a coach
will pass by our door in a few minutes,--must be on 'Change in half an
hour. Come, my love, another cup of tea; make haste; I have scarcely
a moment to take my fare for the inside, before coachee takes his for
the outside. Ha! ha! ha! Mr. Linden."

"Lord, Mr. Copperas," said his helpmate, "how can you be so silly?