You don't think you're still older than me, do you?
No, that's all altered.

Mrs.Guest here asked me how old I was the other day, and I wouldn't tell her, because the truth wasn't true.

I was so ill, Lyddy dear; I did think I should die, and I should have wished to, but for you.

I couldn't send for you: I was ashamed to.

I'd behaved too bad to you and to everybody.