#betsey

Ham Peggotty, who went to the national school, and was a very dragon at his catechism, and who may therefore be regarded as a credible witness, reported next day, that happening to peep in at the parlour-door

You mustn't do it!'This argument had some share in quieting my mother, though her increasing indisposition had a larger one. There was an interval of silence, only broken by Miss Betsey's occasionally

height: auto; width: auto } .calibre2 { display: block; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0; margin-right: 0; margin-top: 1em } 'Bless the Baby!' exclaimed Miss Betsey, unconsciously quoting the second

height: auto; width: auto } .calibre2 { display: block; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0; margin-right: 0; margin-top: 1em } They went into the parlour my mother had come from, the fire in the best room

height: auto; width: auto } .calibre2 { display: block; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 0; margin-right: 0; margin-top: 1em } Miss Trotwood, or Miss Betsey, as my poor mother always called her, when she