uth--much more at my ease too, though I had
the bundle to carry.

And now, those six days which were to have run out so slowly, had
run out fast and were gone, and to-morrow looked me in the face more
steadily than I could look at it. As the six evenings had dwindled
away, to five, to four, to three, to two, I had become more and more
appreciative of the society of Joe and Biddy. On this last evening, I
dressed my self out in my new clothes for their delight, and sat in my
splendor until bedtime. We had a hot supper on the occasion, graced by
the inevitable roast fowl, and we had some flip to finish with. We were
all very low, and none the higher for pretending to be in spirits.

I was to leave our village at five in the morning, carrying my little
hand-portmanteau, and I had told Joe that I wished to walk away all
alone. I am afraid--sore afraid--that this purpose originated in my
sense of the contrast there would be between me and Joe, if we went to
the coach together. I had pretended with myself that there was nothing
of this taint in the arrangement; but when I went up to my little room
on this last night, I felt compelled to admit that it might be so, and
had an impulse upon me to go down again and entreat Joe to walk with me
in the morning. I did not.

All night there were coaches in my broken sleep, going to wrong places
instead of to London, and having in the traces, now dogs, now cats, now
pigs, now men,--never horses. Fantastic failures of journeys occupied
me until the day dawned and the birds were singing. Then, I got up and
partly dressed, and sat at the window to take a last look out, and in
taking it fell asleep.

Biddy was astir so early to get my breakfast, that, although I did not
sleep at the window an hour, I smelt the smoke of the kitchen fire when
I started up with a terrible idea that it must be late in the afternoon.
But long after that, and long after I had heard the clinking of the
teacups and was quite ready, I wanted the resolution to go down stairs.
After all, I remained up there, repeatedly unlocking and unstrapping
my small portmanteau and locking and strapping it up again, until Biddy
called to me that I was late.

It was a hurried breakfast with no taste in it. I got up from the meal,
saying with a sort of briskness, as if it had only just occurred to me,
"Well! I suppose I must be off!" and then I kissed my sister who was
laughing and nodding and shaking in her usual chair, and kis