Some were to be dropped before we reached town; one lived in London; and Eleanor and I had to wait for half-an-hour before catching a train for the north.
For I was going to Yorkshire.

The Arkwrights had asked me to spend the holidays with Eleanor.

There was now nothing to be done but for us to go up together, all unexpected as we were.
How we packed and talked, and ran in and out of each other's rooms! It was late when we all got to bed that night.
Next morning the railway omnibus came for us, and with a curious sense of regret we saw our luggage piled up, and the little gate of Bush House close upon us.
As we moved off, Bridget, the nosegay-woman, drew near.

Madame (who had shed tears as she bade us adieu) opened the gate again, ran out, cried shrilly to the driver to stop, and buying up half Bridget's basketful at one sweep, with more tears and much excitement, flung the flowers in amongst us.

As she went backwards off the step, on to which she had climbed, she fell upon Bridget, who, with even more excitement and I think also with ready tears, clung to the already moving omnibus, and turned her basket upside down over our laps.
I have a dim remembrance of seeing her and Madame seem to fall over each other, or into each other's arms; and then, amid a shrill torrent of farewells and blessings in French and Irish, the omnibus rolled on, and Bush House was hid from our eyes..