My step-mother is as good as dead, for all she cares about me.

My only brother is thousands of miles away in fore ign parts, and never writes to me, and never helps me with a farthing.
My sweetheart--" She stopped, and the red flew into her face.

I knew, if she went on that way, she would only get to the saddest part of her sad story, and give both herself and me unnecessary pain.
"_My_ sweetheart is too poor to marry me, Mary," I said, "so I'm not so much to be envied even there.

But let's give over disputing which is worst off.

Lie down in bed, and let me tuck you up.