"Now, Mrs. Snagsby, the only amends you can make," said Mr. Bucket, rapidly glancing at it, "is to let me speak a word to this young lady in private here. And if you know of any help that you can give to that gentleman in the next kitchen there or can think of any one thing that's likelier than another to bring the girl round, do your swiftest and best!" In an instant she was gone, and he had shut the door. "Now my dear, you're steady and quite sure of yourself?"
"Quite," said I.
"Whose writing is that?"
It was my mother's. A pencil-writing, on a crushed and torn piece of paper, blotted with wet. Folded roughly like a letter, and directed to me at my guardian's.

"Now, Mrs. Snagsby, the only amends you can make," said Mr. Bucket, rapidly glancing at it, "is to let me speak a word to this young lady in private here. And if you know of any help that you can give to that gentleman in the next room or can think of anything that's likely to bring the girl round, do your best!" In an instant she was gone, and he had shut the door. "Now, my dear, you're steady and quite sure of yourself?"
"Quite," said I.
"Whose writing is that?"
It was my mother's. Pencil-writing, on a crushed and torn piece of paper, blotted with wet. Folded, and addressed to me at my guardian's.
