f her family who had seen these places
and persons, and the thought of them filled her with both sorrow and
pleasure. Several times as Leonard talked he turned to her, saying,
"You know the lock, Juliet?" or "You have seen Mrs. Bosher's brother,
I think, Juliet?" or else "The fields and the river are very nice, are
they not?" and to each of his appeals she had gravely bowed her head
in assent.

In the end it was arranged that the following Monday should be spent
by the Mitchell family in packing up the few goods which they
possessed, and that on Tuesday they should send off those goods by the
Littlebourne carrier, who would be directed by Mr. Burnet to call for
them; and then they should all go by omnibus to Paddington station,
and be met at Littlebourne station by Mr. Burnet, or Leonard, or Mr.
Burnet's butler, or Mrs. Bosher's brother.

"Or perhaps by all of us!" said Leonard laughing.

These plans and hours being clearly understood, and Leonard having
advanced Mitchell a sovereign to help pay for the move, he took his
leave, his scarf-pin safe in his waistcoat-pocket. He left the whole
family in a state of wonder and delight, which would have been even
greater had they guessed what further surprises were in store for
them.

No week ever seemed so short and so long to people as that week
appeared to the Mitchells. There was not time enough to finish up
everything that ought to be finished, and to say good-bye to every one
who had been kind and friendly to them in London. Then there were
notices to be given the school, and to the society and the dispensary
which had helped Thomas Mitchell in his trouble. The clergyman and the
schoolmaster and schoolmistress came to say farewell; and as for the
neighbours, poor as they all were, and rude as some were, they crowded
with wishes and gifts.

"Two gallipots," said one old woman, "for you to put your black
currant jam in."

"A few cuttings of geraniums," said a young gardener who worked in
Victoria Park; "try if you can get them to take."

"My school-prize," said a big girl, putting a red-and-gold-covered
book into the hands of little Amy; "I've grown too old for it, so you
may have it."

And Miss Sutton came with the good news that one great West-end draper
had promised to meet his workwomen face to face, and no longer to
employ any middlemen. "For which you will be thankful," said Miss
Sutton to Mrs. Mitchell, "though you will not yourself reap the
benefit."