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At
last
the
day
came
,
the
carriage
drove
up
,
the
little
humble
packets
containing
tokens
of
love
and
remembrance
were
ready
and
disposed
in
the
hall
long
since
--
George
was
in
his
new
suit
,
for
which
the
tailor
had
come
previously
to
measure
him
.
He
had
sprung
up
with
the
sun
and
put
on
the
new
clothes
,
his
mother
hearing
him
from
the
room
close
by
,
in
which
she
had
been
lying
,
in
speechless
grief
and
watching
.
Days
before
she
had
been
making
preparations
for
the
end
,
purchasing
little
stores
for
the
boy
's
use
,
marking
his
books
and
linen
,
talking
with
him
and
preparing
him
for
the
change
--
fondly
fancying
that
he
needed
preparation
.
So
that
he
had
change
,
what
cared
he
?
He
was
longing
for
it
.
By
a
thousand
eager
declarations
as
to
what
he
would
do
,
when
he
went
to
live
with
his
grandfather
,
he
had
shown
the
poor
widow
how
little
the
idea
of
parting
had
cast
him
down
.
"
He
would
come
and
see
his
mamma
often
on
the
pony
,
"
he
said
.
"
He
would
come
and
fetch
her
in
the
carriage
;
they
would
drive
in
the
park
,
and
she
should
have
everything
she
wanted
.
"
The
poor
mother
was
fain
to
content
herself
with
these
selfish
demonstrations
of
attachment
,
and
tried
to
convince
herself
how
sincerely
her
son
loved
her
.
He
must
love
her
.
All
children
were
so
:
a
little
anxious
for
novelty
,
and
--
no
,
not
selfish
,
but
self-willed
.
Her
child
must
have
his
enjoyments
and
ambition
in
the
world
.
She
herself
,
by
her
own
selfishness
and
imprudent
love
for
him
had
denied
him
his
just
rights
and
pleasures
hitherto
.
I
know
few
things
more
affecting
than
that
timorous
debasement
and
self-humiliation
of
a
woman
.
How
she
owns
that
it
is
she
and
not
the
man
who
is
guilty
;
how
she
takes
all
the
faults
on
her
side
;
how
she
courts
in
a
manner
punishment
for
the
wrongs
which
she
has
not
committed
and
persists
in
shielding
the
real
culprit
!
It
is
those
who
injure
women
who
get
the
most
kindness
from
them
--
they
are
born
timid
and
tyrants
and
maltreat
those
who
are
humblest
before
them
.
So
poor
Amelia
had
been
getting
ready
in
silent
misery
for
her
son
's
departure
,
and
had
passed
many
and
many
a
long
solitary
hour
in
making
preparations
for
the
end
.
George
stood
by
his
mother
,
watching
her
arrangements
without
the
least
concern
.
Tears
had
fallen
into
his
boxes
;
passages
had
been
scored
in
his
favourite
books
;
old
toys
,
relics
,
treasures
had
been
hoarded
away
for
him
,
and
packed
with
strange
neatness
and
care
--
and
of
all
these
things
the
boy
took
no
note
.
The
child
goes
away
smiling
as
the
mother
breaks
her
heart
.
By
heavens
it
is
pitiful
,
the
bootless
love
of
women
for
children
in
Vanity
Fair
.
A
few
days
are
past
,
and
the
great
event
of
Amelia
's
life
is
consummated
.
No
angel
has
intervened
.
The
child
is
sacrificed
and
offered
up
to
fate
,
and
the
widow
is
quite
alone
.
The
boy
comes
to
see
her
often
,
to
be
sure
.
He
rides
on
a
pony
with
a
coachman
behind
him
,
to
the
delight
of
his
old
grandfather
,
Sedley
,
who
walks
proudly
down
the
lane
by
his
side
.
She
sees
him
,
but
he
is
not
her
boy
any
more
.
Why
,
he
rides
to
see
the
boys
at
the
little
school
,
too
,
and
to
show
off
before
them
his
new
wealth
and
splendour
.
In
two
days
he
has
adopted
a
slightly
imperious
air
and
patronizing
manner
.
He
was
born
to
command
,
his
mother
thinks
,
as
his
father
was
before
him
.
It
is
fine
weather
now
.
Of
evenings
on
the
days
when
he
does
not
come
,
she
takes
a
long
walk
into
London
--
yes
,
as
far
as
Russell
Square
,
and
rests
on
the
stone
by
the
railing
of
the
garden
opposite
Mr.
Osborne
's
house
.
It
is
so
pleasant
and
cool
.
She
can
look
up
and
see
the
drawing-room
windows
illuminated
,
and
,
at
about
nine
o'clock
,
the
chamber
in
the
upper
story
where
Georgy
sleeps
.
She
knows
--
he
has
told
her
.
She
prays
there
as
the
light
goes
out
,
prays
with
an
humble
heart
,
and
walks
home
shrinking
and
silent
.
She
is
very
tired
when
she
comes
home
.
Perhaps
she
will
sleep
the
better
for
that
long
weary
walk
,
and
she
may
dream
about
Georgy
.
One
Sunday
she
happened
to
be
walking
in
Russell
Square
,
at
some
distance
from
Mr.
Osborne
's
house
(
she
could
see
it
from
a
distance
though
)
when
all
the
bells
of
Sabbath
were
ringing
,
and
George
and
his
aunt
came
out
to
go
to
church
;
a
little
sweep
asked
for
charity
,
and
the
footman
,
who
carried
the
books
,
tried
to
drive
him
away
;
but
Georgy
stopped
and
gave
him
money
.
May
God
's
blessing
be
on
the
boy
!
Emmy
ran
round
the
square
and
,
coming
up
to
the
sweep
,
gave
him
her
mite
too
.
All
the
bells
of
Sabbath
were
ringing
,
and
she
followed
them
until
she
came
to
the
Foundling
Church
,
into
which
she
went
There
she
sat
in
a
place
whence
she
could
see
the
head
of
the
boy
under
his
father
's
tombstone
.
Many
hundred
fresh
children
's
voices
rose
up
there
and
sang
hymns
to
the
Father
Beneficent
,
and
little
George
's
soul
thrilled
with
delight
at
the
burst
of
glorious
psalmody
.
His
mother
could
not
see
him
for
awhile
,
through
the
mist
that
dimmed
her
eyes
.
