London, and returned at the end of a week
with her niece, her new maid, and her boxes. All the old furniture
had been sold, and her personal belongings were very scanty. The
time had now come in which personal belongings would accrue to her,
but when she reached the Paragon one big trunk and one small trunk
contained all that she possessed. The luggage of her niece Susanna
was almost as copious as her own. Her maid had been newly hired, and
she was almost ashamed of the scantiness of her own possessions in
the eyes of her servant.

The way in which Susanna had been given up to her had been
oppressive, and at one moment almost distressing. That objection
which each lady had to visit the other,--Miss Mackenzie, that is, and
Susanna's mamma,--had never been overcome, and neither side had given
way. No visit of affection or of friendship had been made. But as it
was needful that the transfer of the young lady should be effected
with some solemnity, Mrs Mackenzie had condescended to bring her to
her future guardian's lodgings on the day before that fixed for the
journey to Littlebath. To so much degradation--for in her eyes it was
degradation--Mrs Mackenzie had consented to subject herself; and Mr
Mackenzie was to come on the following morning, and take his sister
and daughter to the train.

The mother, as soon as she found herself seated and almost before she
had recovered the breath lost in mounting the lodging-house stairs,
began the speech which she had prepared for delivery on the occasion.
Miss Mackenzie, who had taken Susanna's hand, remained with it in her
own during the greater part of the speech. Before the speech was done
the poor girl's hand had been dropped, but in dropping it the aunt
was not guilty of any unkindness. "Margaret," said Mrs Mackenzie,
"this is a trial, a very great trial to a mother, and I hope that you
feel it as I do."

"Sarah," said Miss Mackenzie, "I will do my duty by your child."

"Well; yes; I hope so. If I thought you would not do your duty by
her, no consideration of mere money would induce me to let her go
to you. But I do hope, Margaret, you will think of the greatness of
the sacrifice we are making. There never was a better child than
Susanna."

"I am very glad of that, Sarah."

"Indeed, there never was a better child than any of 'em; I will
say that for them before the child herself; and if you do your duty
by her, I'm quite sure she'll do hers by you. Tom thinks it best
tha