At length, just before quitting Winston, she had a farewell visit from Mrs. Willis and her brother, whose plan for leaving home, she was already aware, had been renounced. The lady was the same as ever, friendly and warm in her manners; but Mr. Howard looked pale and ill, and was evidently out of spirits. The visit was short; and when they parted, Emma found the interview had only added an additional pang to all the sufferings she had previously endured.
And thus, for a second time, was Emma Watson driven out from the home where she had vainly hoped to find a continued shelter, and a second time compelled to look for protection from strange relatives. It was strange that though at this moment she really had more subjects of anxiety, more sources of depression and sorrow, she bore it so much better than the first. Then she had seemed overwhelmed—now strengthened by the blow. She was learning to see life, its duties, and its trials, in a new light; she discovered that suffering was not an accidental circumstance, like a transitory illness, to be cured and forgotten as soon as possible; it was the condition of life itself—peace was the exception—and she had enjoyed her share; henceforth, she must look forward to trial and endurance, she must struggle as millions had struggled before her, and learn to draw contentment not from circumstances but from temper of mind.
Conscious that whilst in her brother's house she should probably have much to bear, she sought for strength greater than her own to go through with it; and endeavoured by viewing her expected trials, as a system of mental discipline which would benefit her, if well supported, to bring her mind into a frame to endure them with patience.
The journey to Croydon was safely performed and as expeditiously as could be expected by three young ladies and a quantity of luggage travelling through cross roads with post-horses. Margaret was quite at home in the streets of Croydon and its neighbourhood, and pointed out to whom the various houses belonged with a feeling of exultation, as if knowing the names of the owners when her sisters did not were the next thing to possessing them herself. The bright green door, with its brass-handled bell, was easily recognised by the large plate bearing the owner's name which adorned it.