And so Miss Kitty went out to India, and the only thing that comforted me for her loss was the fact that she took with her the embroidered handkerchief for my mother, and the wrought cigar-case for my father, which it had taken my idleness a whole year to produce.

Ah, me! and my eyes never beheld either of these three again: friend, father, or mother.
My first recollections of Mrs.Hollingford are associated with plum-cake, birth-days, and bon-bons.

I remember her as an erect, dignified-looking lady in a long velvet cloak, and with a peculiarly venerable face, half severe, half benevolent.

I used to feel a little nervous about speaking to her, but I liked to sit at a distance and look at her.

I had a superstition that she was the most powerful universal agent in existence; that she had only to say, "Let there be plum-cake," and immediately it would appear on the table; or, "This little girl requires a new doll," and at once a waxen cherub would repose in my arms.