Martha's tone to Miss Matty was just such as
that good, rough-spoken servant usually kept sacred for little
children, and which I had never heard her use to any grown-up
person.
I had forgotten to tell Miss Matty about the pudding, and I was
afraid she might not do justice to it, for she had evidently very
little appetite this day; so I seized the opportunity of letting
her into the secret while Martha took away the meat. Miss Matty's
eyes filled with tears, and she could not speak, either to express
surprise or delight, when Martha returned bearing it aloft, made in
the most wonderful representation of a lion couchant that ever was
moulded. Martha's face gleamed with triumph as she set it down
before Miss Matty with an exultant "There!" Miss Matty wanted to
speak her thanks, but could not; so she took Martha's hand and
shook it warmly, which set Martha off crying, and I myself could
hardly keep up the necessary composure. Martha burst out of the
room, and Miss Matty had to clear her voice once or twice before
she could speak. At last she said, "I should like to keep this
pudding under a glass shade, my dear!" and the notion of the lion
couchant, with his currant eyes, being hoisted up to the place of
honour on a mantelpiece, tickled my hysterical fancy, and I began
to laugh, which rather surprised Miss Matty.
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