All the little daily habits, and pleasures, and friendlinesses, the trifles that made her life, were being taken from her.

In a few days more she would be a stranger among strangers, with no one interested enough to care what became of her, and nothing but her room and her flowers would remain the same.

And even for how long that much would be left her she could not know.
She would have the same room still, for Mrs.Lang had handed over the house and everything in it, including the lodgers, to some people who wanted a small lodging-house of the kind; but who they were, or what they would be like, was all unknown to Miss Patch.
If, though, she did not show her own feelings then, Jessie found them out a little later.

Going unexpectedly up to Miss Patch's room to present her with a geranium which had been one of her own particular treasures, given her by Tom Salter, she found the poor old head bowed on the table, and the poor thin body shaking with sobs.

Jessie, in great distress, dropped her geranium and ran to her.
"What is it?
What has happened ?" she cried.