That Ann Holland should give up her
good trade and go out as servant to the Chantreys--for so it was
represented by the news-bearers--was an unheard-of, incredible thing.
Many were the remonstrances she had to listen to, and to answer as best
she could.
It was a bitter day for Ann Holland when she saw her treasured household
furniture sold by auction and scattered to the four winds. Many of her
old neighbors bought for themselves some mementoes of the place they
knew so well, but the bulk of the larger articles were sold without
sentiment or feeling. It was a pang to part with each one of them, as
they were carried off to some strange or hostile house to be put to
common uses. The bare walls and empty rooms that were left, which she
had never seen bare and empty before, seemed terribly new, yet familiar
to her. She wandered through them for a few minutes, loitering in each
one as she thought of all that had happened to her during her monotonous
life; and then, with a sorrowful yet brave heart, she walked along the
street to the rectory, which was already dismantled and bare like the
home she had just left.
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