 was described as having excelled all competitors), he hit upon the
happy thought of changing it to Fle-e-eg; which he accordingly did, with an
archness almost supernatural, and a voice quite vociferous, notwithstanding that
the time was close at hand when he must seek the abode of the dreadful Mrs.
MacStinger.
 

                                   Chapter XI

                      Paul's Introduction to a New Scene.

Mrs. Pipchin's constitution was made of such hard metal, in spite of its
liability to the fleshly weaknesses of standing in need of repose after chops,
and of requiring to be coaxed to sleep by the soporific agency of sweet-breads,
that it utterly set at naught the predictions of Mrs. Wickam, and showed no
symptoms of decline. Yet, as Paul's rapt interest in the old lady continued
unabated, Mrs. Wickam would not budge an inch from the position she had taken
up. Fortifying and entrenching herself on the strong ground of her uncle's
Betsey Jane, she advised Miss Berry, as a friend, to prepare herself for the
worst; and forewarned her that her aunt might, at any time, be expected to go
off suddenly, like a powder-mill.
    Poor Berry took it all in good part, and drudged and slaved away as usual;
perfectly convinced that Mrs. Pipchin was one of the most meritorious persons in
the world, and making every day innumerable sacrifices of herself upon the altar
of that noble old woman. But all these immolations of Berry were somehow carried
to the credit of Mrs. Pipchin by Mrs. Pipchin's friends and admirers; and were
made to harmonise with, and carry out, that melancholy fact of the deceased Mr.
Pipchin having broken his heart in the Peruvian mines.
    For example, there was an honest grocer and general dealer in the retail
line of business, between whom and Mrs. Pipchin there was a small memorandum
book, with a greasy red cover, perpetually in question, and concerning which
divers secret councils and conferences were continually being held between the
parties to the register, on the mat in the passage, and with closed doors in the
parlour. Nor were there wanting dark hints from Master Bitherstone (whose temper
had been made revengeful by the solar heats of India acting on his blood), of
balances unsettled, and of a failure, on one occasion within his memory, in the
supply of moist sugar at tea-time. This grocer being a bachelor, and not a man
who looked upon the surface for beauty, had once made honourable offers for the
hand of Berry, which Mrs. Pipchin had
