Good-bye, Freddy!" And in another minute the coach was grating away over the gravel drive, and I stood utterly disconsolate in Stonebridge House, with my box of sweets in one hand and Mr Ladislaw at the other.
Some of my readers may have stood in a similar situation.

If they have, I dare say they can remember it as vividly as any incident in their life.

I know I can.

I remember instinctively ramming the box into one of my side trousers pockets, and at the same time wondering whether both the hats hanging on the pegs were Mr Ladislaw's, or whether one of them belonged to some one else.
Then suddenly it came over me that the former gentleman stood at my side, and all my misery returned as he said-- "I will take you to Miss Henniker, Batchelor; follow me." The sound of the wheels of Mrs Hudson's coach were still audible down the road, and as I turned my back on them and followed Mr Ladislaw up the carpetless stairs, it seemed as if I was leaving all hope behind me.
I found Miss Henniker in the middle of a large parlour, with my box lying open on the ground beside her, and some of my vestments already spread out on the table.

A half inclination to renew the rebellion came over me, as I thought how poor dear Mrs Hudson had been triumphed over; and all these tokens of her kindly soul, folded so neatly, inventoried so precisely, and all so white and well aired, had here fallen into strange hands, who reverenced them no more than--than the shirts and collars and cuffs of I do not know how many more "backward or troublesome" boys like myself.