Susan had grown fond of Aunt Hannah, and did not wish to seem ungrateful. She went and stood by her chair and said earnestly: "I'm very sorry to go away. I am, indeed; but, of course, I want to see Mother." As she spoke she gave a glance at Sophia Jane. "Did she mind? Was she sorry now that the time had come?" If she were she gave no sign of it. Her face expressed neither surprise, or interest, or sorrow, but was bent closely over some shells she had brought from Pegwell Bay. "We shall all miss our little Susan," continued Aunt Hannah, kissing her affectionately. "That we shall," said Nanna. "Dear, good little thing!" said Margaretta. Surely Sophia Jane would say something too. No. She went on arranging her shells in small heaps, and took no manner of notice. "And as for Sophia Jane," continued Aunt Hannah, "she will be completely lost without her companion." Susan looked entreatingly at her friend, longing for a word or look of affection, but not a muscle of the small face moved; it might have been made of stone. "Won't you be sorry to lose Susan, my dear?" asked Aunt Hannah. "I suppose so," was all the answer, with an impatient jerk of the shoulders. Susan was so hurt at this coldness that she went to bed in low spirits, and thought of it sorrowfully for a long while before she slept. It cast a gloom over the prospect even of going home to think that Sophia Jane did not love her. She had evidently not forgotten Susan's behaviour in the past, and did not wish to have her for a friend. It was the more distressing because Susan had made a plan which she thought a very pleasant one, and was anxious to carry out. It was to ask her mother to allow her to have Sophia Jane on a visit in London. She would then be able to show her many things and places she had never seen, and enjoy her enjoyment and surprise. The Tower, the Zoological Gardens, Astley's, Westminster Abbey, Saint Paul's, and all the wonders and delights of town. It was a beautiful idea, but if Sophia Jane held aloof in this way it must be given up. And yet it was a most puzzling thing to account for this chilling behaviour, because lately she had been more kind and pleasant than usual, and sometimes almost affectionate. It was useless, however, as Susan now knew, to wonder about Sophia Jane's moods. They came and they went, and it was, after all, just possible that she would be quite different in the morning. When the next day came she got up with a feeling that she had a great deal on her hands, for it was her last day at Ramsgate, and she must say good-bye to everyone and let them know she was going away. At breakfast-time something was said about going to make a farewell visit to the Winslows, but Susan thought there were more important matters to be done first. "I'll go if I've time," she said seriously; "but you see I have a great deal to do, because this is my last day."