Sunday night

Dear Mr Bowles.

I am much ashamed. I misbehaved tonight. I would like to sit in the dust. I fear I am your little friend no more, but Mrs. Jim Crow.

I am sorry I smiled at women.

Indeed, I revere holy ones, like Mrs. Fry and Miss Nightingale. I will never be giddy again. Pray forgive me now: Respect little Bob o' Lincoln again!

My friends are a very few. I can count them on my fingers - and besides, have fingers to spare.

I am gay to see you - because you come so scarcely, else I had been graver.

Good night, God will forgive me - Will you please to try?

                                                                                                              Emily.