By the by'; he laid down his knife and fork, which he had been using with great diligence, and began feeling in his pockets; 'I have a letter for you.' 'From whom ?' 'Why, from your old nurse,' he returned, taking some papers out of his breast pocket.

"'J.

Steerforth, Esquire, debtor, to The Willing Mind"; that's not it.

Patience, and we'll find it presently.

Old what's-his-name's in a bad way, and it's about that, I believe.' 'Barkis, do you mean ?' 'Yes!' still feeling in his pockets, and looking over their contents: 'it's all over with poor Barkis, I am afraid.