They came to say good-by with
as much ceremony and as little feeling as if they were leaving the house
under ordinary circumstances. The cook, for all her violent temper,
behaved very differently: she sent up a message to say that she would
stop and help us to the last. And Thomas (who has never yet been in any
other place than ours) spoke so gratefully of my dear father's unvarying
kindness to him, and asked so anxiously to be allowed to go on serving
us while his little savings lasted, that Magdalen and I forgot all
formal considerations and both shook hands with him. The poor lad went
out of the room crying. I wish him well; I hope he will find a kind
master and a good place.
"The long, quiet, rainy evening out-of-doors--our last evening at
Combe-Raven--was a sad trial to us. I think winter-time would have
weighed less on our spirits; the drawn curtains and the bright lamps,
and the companionable fires would have helped us. We were only five in
the house altogether--after having once been so many! I can't tell you
how dreary the gray daylight looked, toward seven o'clock, in the lonely
rooms, and on the noiseless staircase. Surely, the prejudice in favor of
long summer evenings is the prejudice of happy people? We did our best.
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