Hush, here comes Mother Pratt with the tea-tray.

Look at her well, Herrick.

She is a good imitation of the immortal Mrs.
Gummidge, and bears a mortified exterior, out of compliment to the late Samuel Pratt, sexton and grave-digger and parochial Jack-of-all-trades." The bumping sounds in the distance that Cedric had heard had drawn nearer, and the next moment a tall, angular woman in a black hat, and a suspicion of soap-suds freshly dried about her bare arms, entered the room and set down the tea-tray with a heavy sigh, as though the burden of life were too hard to bear.
Mr.Carlyon followed her with a crusty loaf and the butter, while Elizabeth brought up the rear triumphantly with a plate of raspberries and a little brown jug of cream.
"Is there anything more you'll be needing, sir ?" asked Mrs.Pratt lugubriously--she spoke in an injured manner.

"If it had not been washing-day I would have baked you a currant-loaf, or some scones; but having only two hands, and no chick or child to help me, and--" "Oh, we shall do very nicely," returned Elizabeth cheerfully.

"Please do not let us hinder you, Mrs.Pratt; if you will keep the water boiling we can easily replenish the teapot.