ungenerous!

I took my seat. Shall I make tea, Madam, to my mother?--I always
used, you know, my dear, to make tea.

No! a very short sentence, in one very short word, was the expressive
answer. And she was pleased to take the canister in her own hand.

My brother bid the footman, who attended, leave the room--I, he said,
will pour out the water.

My heart was up in my mouth. I did not know what to do with myself.
What is to follow? thought I.

Just after the second dish, out stept my mother--A word with you,
sister Hervey! taking her in her hand. Presently my sister dropt
away. Then my brother. So I was left alone with my father.

He looked so very sternly, that my heart failed me as twice or thrice
I would have addressed myself to him: nothing but solemn silence on
all hands having passed before.

At last, I asked, if it were his pleasure that I should pour him out
another dish?

He answered me with the same angry monosyllable, which I had received
from my mother before; and then arose, and walked about the room. I
arose too, with intent to throw myself at his feet; but was too much
overawed by his sternness, even to make such an expression of my duty
to him as my heart overflowed with.