e, he filled a tumbler with a hot and
odorous mixture, measured out and compounded with as much nicety as a
physician's prescription. Into this mixture Mrs Clennam dipped certain
of the rusks, and ate them; while the old woman buttered certain other
of the rusks, which were to be eaten alone. When the invalid had eaten
all the rusks and drunk all the mixture, the two trays were removed;
and the books and the candle, watch, handkerchief, and spectacles were
replaced upon the table. She then put on the spectacles and read certain
passages aloud from a book--sternly, fiercely, wrathfully--praying that
her enemies (she made them by her tone and manner expressly hers) might
be put to the edge of the sword, consumed by fire, smitten by plagues
and leprosy, that their bones might be ground to dust, and that they
might be utterly exterminated. As she read on, years seemed to fall
away from her son like the imaginings of a dream, and all the old dark
horrors of his usual preparation for the sleep of an innocent child to
overshadow him.

She shut the book and remained for a little time with her face shaded by
her hand. So did the old man, otherwise still unchanged in attitude; so,
probably, did the old woman in her dimmer part of the room. Then the
sick woman was ready for bed.

'Good night, Arthur. Affery will see to your accommodation. Only touch
me, for my hand is tender.' He touched the worsted muffling of her
hand--that was nothing; if his mother had been sheathed in brass there
would have been no new barrier between them--and followed the old man
and woman down-stairs.

The latter asked him, when they were alone together among the heavy
shadows of the dining-room, would he have some supper?

'No, Affery, no supper.'

'You shall if you like,' said Affery. 'There's her tomorrow's partridge
in the larder--her first this year; say the word and I'll cook it.'

No, he had not long dined, and could eat nothing.

'Have something to drink, then,' said Affery; 'you shall have some of
her bottle of port, if you like. I'll tell Jeremiah that you ordered me
to bring it you.'

No; nor would he have that, either.

'It's no reason, Arthur,' said the old woman, bending over him to
whisper, 'that because I am afeared of my life of 'em, you should be.
You've got half the property, haven't you?'

'Yes, yes.'

'Well then, don't you be cowed. You're clever, Arthur, an't you?' He
nodded, as she seemed to expect an answer in the affi