Even Mrs.Flint had sallied forth to a distant market to secure some cheap provisions, and Poppy had the back scullery to herself.

She was handling the dinner-plates in a rather clumsy manner, and, after the fashion of a discontented little girl, was sighing over her work, and not doing it properly.
"Oh, let me help you!" said Jasmine, dancing up to her: "I hate washing china, or delf, or whatever you call it, after people have eaten, but I like wiping it if the cloths are clean.

Poppy, I have come to you about a most delicious and important scheme." "Lor, Miss Jasmine," said Poppy, her fingers trembling violently, and the large dish which she was washing nearly slipping out of them.
"Lor, miss, you do startle me.

I was in the dumps, and you are for all the world like the sun coming out.

Why, deary me, the back scullery ain't by no means such a bad sort of place when you're in it, Miss Jasmine." "It is very damp and gloomy, all the same," answered Jasmine.