That was all.

Now that the train was gone, the silence was unbroken save by the impatient movements of the old white mare as she shook the flies off and rattled the jingling harness.
Hilda was too weary to think.

She had slept little the night before, and the suddenness of the recent changes confused her mind and made her feel as if she were some one else, and not herself at all.

She sat patiently, counting half-unconsciously each quiver of Nancy's ears.

But now Dame Hartley came bustling back with the station-master, and between the two, Hilda's trunk was hoisted into the cart.