Her lunch was always of bread and cheese, and they who lunched with her either eat that,--or the bread without the cheese.
An afternoon "tea" was a thing horrible to her imagination.

Tea and buttered toast at half-past eight in the evening was the great luxury of her life.

She was as strong as a horse, and had never hitherto known a day's illness.

As a consequence of this, she did not believe in the illness of other people,--especially not in the illness of women.

She did not like a girl who could not drink a glass of beer with her bread and cheese in the middle of the day, and she thought that a glass of port after dinner was good for everybody.