I wanted to take some away with me--I am leaving Rose Cottage to-day, Mr.Halifax." "So I have heard." He did not say "sorry to hear." I wondered did the omission strike her?
But no--she evidently regarded us both as mere acquaintances, inevitably, perhaps even tenderly, bound up with this time; and as such, claiming a more than ordinary place in her regard and remembrance.

No man with common sense or common feeling could for a moment dare to misinterpret the emotion she showed.
Re-entering the house, she asked us if we would come in with her; she had a few things to say to us.

And then she again referred gratefully to our "kindness." We all went once more--for the last time--into the little parlour.
"Yes--I am going away," said she, mournfully.
"We hope all good will go with you--always and everywhere." "Thank you, Mr.Fletcher." It was strange, the grave tone our intercourse now invariably assumed.
We might have been three old people, who had long fought with and endured the crosses of the world, instead of two young men and a young woman, in the very dawn of life.
"Circumstances have fixed my plans since I saw you yesterday.

I am going to reside for a time with my cousins, the Brithwoods.

It seems best for me.