This she did one evening as follows: 'Master Copperfield,' said Mrs.Micawber, 'I make no stranger of you, and therefore do not hesitate to say that Mr.Micawber's difficulties are coming to a crisis.' It made me very miserable to hear it, and I looked at Mrs.Micawber's red eyes with the utmost sympathy.
'With the exception of the heel of a Dutch cheese--which is not adapted to the wants of a young family'-- said Mrs.Micawber, 'there is really not a scrap of anything in the larder.

I was accustomed to speak of the larder when I lived with papa and mama, and I use the word almost unconsciously.

What I mean to express is, that there is nothing to eat in the house.' 'Dear me!' I said, in great concern.
I had two or three shillings of my week's money in my pocket--from which I presume that it must have been on a Wednesday night when we held this conversation--and I hastily produced them, and with heartfelt emotion begged Mrs.Micawber to accept of them as a loan.

But that lady, kissing me, and making me put them back in my pocket, replied that she couldn't think of it.
'No, my dear Master Copperfield,' said she, 'far be it from my thoughts! But you have a discretion beyond your years, and can render me another kind of service, if you will; and a service I will thankfully accept of.' I begged Mrs.Micawber to name it.
'I have parted with the plate myself,' said Mrs.Micawber.

'Six tea, two salt, and a pair of sugars, I have at different times borrowed money on, in secret, with my own hands.