her mince-meat, and had devoted much butter, fine flour, and labour, to
the making of a batch of pies in the morning; but they proved to be so
very heavy when they came out of the oven, that she could only think with
trembling of the moment when her husband should catch sight of them on
the supper-table. He would storm at her, she was certain; and before all
the company; and then she should never help crying: it was so dreadful to
think she had come to that, after the bulbul and everything! Suddenly
the thought darted through her mind that _this once_ she might send for a
dish of mince-pies from Freely's: she knew he had some. But what was to
become of the eighteen heavy mince-pies? Oh, it was of no use thinking
about that; it was very expensive--indeed, making mince-pies at all was a
great expense, when they were not sure to turn out well: it would be much
better to buy them ready-made. You paid a little more for them, but
there was no risk of waste.

Such was the sophistry with which this misguided young woman--enough.
Mrs. Steene sent for the mince-pies, and, I am grieved to add, garbled
her household accounts in order to conceal the fact from her husband.
This was the second step in a downward course, all owing to a young
woman's being out of harmony with her circumstances, yearning after
renegades and bulbuls, and being subject to claims from a veterinary
surgeon fond of mince-pies. The third step was to harden herself by
telling the fact of the bought mince-pies to her intimate friend Mrs.
Mole, who had already guessed it, and who subsequently encouraged herself
in buying a mould of jelly, instead of exerting her own skill, by the
reflection that "other people" did the same sort of thing. The infection
spread; soon there was a party or clique in Grimworth on the side of
"buying at Freely's"; and many husbands, kept for some time in the dark
on this point, innocently swallowed at two mouthfuls a tart on which they
were paying a profit of a hundred per cent., and as innocently encouraged