All superfluous effects had been disposed off, even to their personal trinkets. Charles's watch, that he set store by because it had been his father's, and had only just come into his possession, had to go. Without the sale of these things they could not have paid all their debts and kept sufficient for pressing requirements. A fly took Mrs. Raynor, Alice, and the two younger children to the station, Charles and Alfred having walked on; and a cart conveyed the luggage. The rain beat against the windows of the fly, the wind swept by in gusts, shaking the branches of the trees. Everything looked dreary and wretched, even Eagles' Nest itself. Oh, what a change it was, inwardly and outwardly, from that day, bright with hope and sunshine, when they had entered it only twelve short months before! Charles was at the fly door when it drew up. "What tickets am I to take?" he asked of his mother: and a blank pause ensued. They were accustomed to first-class; but that would not do now. "Either second, or--_third_, Charley," spoke poor Mrs. Raynor. "There is no third-class to this train," replied Charley, glad perhaps to have to say it, as he turned away to the ticket-office. And so they travelled up to London, Mrs. Raynor leaning back in the carriage with closed eyes, grateful for the rest. It had been a long scuffle to get away: and every one of them had mentally reproached Edina for not coming to their help. "It is just as though she had deserted us," said Mrs. Raynor. "I suppose she will be at the new house to receive us, as she says; but I think she might have come all the same: she knows how incapable I am." The "new house" was situated in the southern district of London, some three miles, or so, from the heart of the bustle. It was about five o'clock when they approached it in two cabs, through the dirt and drizzle. The spirits of all were depressed. With the very utmost difficulty Mrs. Raynor kept down her tears. "I expect to find an empty barn," she said, looking out on the dreary road. "Perhaps there will not be as much as a mattress to sleep on." The cabs stopped before the door of a convenient, roomy, but old-fashioned-looking house, standing a little back from the road, with a garden behind it. A rosy servant-girl opened the door. She was not as fashionable-looking as the maids they had left, but she was neat and active, and very willing--a remarkably desirable quality in a maid-of-all-work. Edina came forward; a bright smile of welcome on her face as she took all the hands into hers that she could hold, and led the way to the sitting-room. It was quite furnished, and the tea-things stood on the table.