nd as Edith was not thought old enough to accompany
them, Mrs. Parker resolved to ask Emilie to take charge of her. The only
difficulty was how to dispose of aunt Agnes; aunt Agnes wishing them to
believe that she did not mind being alone, but all the while minding it
very much. At last it occurred to Emilie that perhaps Mrs. Crosse, at
the farm in Edenthorpe, a few miles off, would, if she knew of the
difficulty, ask aunt Agnes there for a few weeks. Mrs. Crosse and aunt
Agnes got on so wonderfully well together, and as she had often been
invited, the only thing now was to get her in the mind to go. This was
effected in due time, and Mr. Crosse came up to the lodgings for her and
her little box, in his horse and gig, on the very evening that Emilie
was to go the Parkers', to be installed as housekeeper and governess in
the lady's absence. Edith had come to see the dear old aunt off; and now
re-entered the lodgings to help Emilie to collect her things, and to
settle with Miss Webster for the lodgings, before her departure. Miss
Webster had met with a tenant for six weeks, and was in very good
spirits, and very willing to take care of the Schombergs' goods, which,
to tell the truth, were not likely to oppress her either in number or
value, with the exception of one cherished article, one relic of former
days--a good semi-grand piano, which M. Schomberg had purchased for his
daughter, about a year before his death. Miss Webster looked very much
confused as Emilie bade her good-bye, and said--"Miss Schomberg, you
have not, I see, left your piano unlocked."

"No," said Emilie, "certainly I have not; I did not suppose----"

"Why," replied Miss Webster, "the lodgers, seeing a piano, will be sure
to ask for the key, Miss, and to be sure you wo'nt object."

Emilie hesitated. Did she remember the time when Miss Webster, indignant
at Emilie for being a fortnight behind-hand in her weekly rent, refused
to lend a sofa for her dying father, without extra pay? Did she recall
the ill-made slops, the wretched attendance to which this selfish woman
treated them during the pressure of poverty and distress? Emilie was
human, and she remembered all. She knew, moreover, that Miss Webster
would make a gain of her instrument, and that it might suffer from six
weeks' rough use. She stood twisting some straw plait that lay on the
counter, in her fingers, and then coolly saying she would consider of
it, walked out of the shop with Edith, her bo