'I shall be glad to see it again, I don't deny, Miss,' said the Nipper.

'There ain't much in it to boast of, but I wouldn't have it burnt or pulled down, neither!' 'You'll be glad to go through the old rooms, won't you, Susan ?' said Florence, smiling.
'Well, Miss,' returned the Nipper, softening more and more towards the house, as they approached it nearer, 'I won't deny but what I shall, though I shall hate 'em again, to-morrow, very likely.' Florence felt that, for her, there was greater peace within it than elsewhere.

It was better and easier to keep her secret shut up there, among the tall dark walls, than to carry it abroad into the light, and try to hide it from a crowd of happy eyes.

It was better to pursue the study of her loving heart, alone, and find no new discouragements in loving hearts about her.

It was easier to hope, and pray, and love on, all uncared for, yet with constancy and patience, in the tranquil sanctuary of such remembrances: although it mouldered, rusted, and decayed about her: than in a new scene, let its gaiety be what it would.
She welcomed back her old enchanted dream of life, and longed for the old dark door to close upon her, once again.
Full of such thoughts, they turned into the long and sombre street.
Florence was not on that side of the carriage which was nearest to her home, and as the distance lessened between them and it, she looked out of her window for the children over the way.
She was thus engaged, when an exclamation from Susan caused her to turn quickly round.
'Why, Gracious me!' cried Susan, breathless, 'where's our house!' 'Our house!' said Florence.
Susan, drawing in her head from the window, thrust it out again, drew it in again as the carriage stopped, and stared at her mistress in amazement.
There was a labyrinth of scaffolding raised all round the house, from the basement to the roof.