Your commands have been obeyed in all things, and Morrison always says "The mistress didn't mean this," or "The mistress did intend that." God bless the mistress is what I now say, and send her home, to her own home, to her flowers, and her fruit, and her house, and her husband, as soon as may be, with no more of these delays which are to me so grievous, and which seem to me to be so unnecessary.

That is my prayer.
Yours ever and always, J.G.
"I didn't give commands," Alice said to herself, as she sat with the letter at her solitary breakfast-table.

"He asked me how I liked the things, and of course I was obliged to say.

I was obliged to seem to care, even if I didn't care." Such were her first thoughts as she put the letter back into its envelope, after reading it the second time.
When she opened it, which she did quickly, not pausing a moment lest she should suspect herself of fearing to see what might be its contents, her mind was full of that rebuke which her aunt had anticipated, and which she had almost taught herself to expect.

She had torn the letter open rapidly, and had dashed at its contents with quick eyes.