All the children were at home, it being holiday-time. Juliet sat at needlework, Albert was carpentering an old wooden box and turning it into a cupboard; the younger ones were playing with some firewood, and building castles with it. Mrs. Mitchell was stitching at one more mantle, and thinking over every little incident of her baby's life and death. Into the midst of this quiet scene came Leonard Burnet, full of life and vigour, and overflowing with the happy message he had brought. He told them of the pretty cottage with honeysuckle on the porch, of the garden full of cauliflowers and scarlet-runners, of the clear bright river, of the open fields, of the shady woods, the winding lanes, and of all the pleasant things of rural life. Then he spoke of Mr. and Mrs. Rowles, and the lock, and the boats; of Philip and Emily; of the good vicar and Mrs. Webster; of Mrs. Bosher's brother, and the horses, cows, pigs, and poultry which he possessed. How strange it all seemed to Juliet! How far away, and yet how well known! She was the only one of her family who had seen these places and persons, and the thought of them filled her with both sorrow and pleasure. Several times as Leonard talked he turned to her, saying, "You know the lock, Juliet?" or "You have seen Mrs. Bosher's brother, I think, Juliet?" or else "The fields and the river are very nice, are they not?" and to each of his appeals she had gravely bowed her head in assent. In the end it was arranged that the following Monday should be spent by the Mitchell family in packing up the few goods which they possessed, and that on Tuesday they should send off those goods by the Littlebourne carrier, who would be directed by Mr. Burnet to call for them; and then they should all go by omnibus to Paddington station, and be met at Littlebourne station by Mr. Burnet, or Leonard, or Mr. Burnet's butler, or Mrs. Bosher's brother. "Or perhaps by all of us!" said Leonard laughing. These plans and hours being clearly understood, and Leonard having advanced Mitchell a sovereign to help pay for the move, he took his leave, his scarf-pin safe in his waistcoat-pocket. He left the whole family in a state of wonder and delight, which would have been even greater had they guessed what further surprises were in store for them. No week ever seemed so short and so long to people as that week appeared to the Mitchells. There was not time enough to finish up everything that ought to be finished, and to say good-bye to every one who had been kind and friendly to them in London. Then there were notices to be given the school, and to the society and the dispensary which had helped Thomas Mitchell in his trouble. The clergyman and the schoolmaster and schoolmistress came to say farewell; and as for the neighbours, poor as they all were, and rude as some were, they crowded with wishes and gifts. "Two gallipots," said one old woman, "for you to put your black currant jam in."