Even the plain little table by the bed-side, with a jug and a glass on it, did not escape her observation.
"Is that his drink ?" she asked, with an air of respectful curiosity.

"Do you think I might taste it ?" Mr.Engelman laughed.

"It's only barley-water, dear lady," he said.

"Our rheumatic old housekeeper makes as few journeys as possible up and down stairs.

When she sets the room in order in the evening, she takes the night-drink up with her, and so saves a second journey." "Taste it, Minna," said the widow, handing the glass to her daughter.
"How refreshing! how pure!" Mr.Engelman, standing on the other side of her, whispered in her ear.