Margaret's Flittin'

'The meanest thing to which we bid adieu,
Loses its meanness in the parting hour.'
ELLIOTT.

Mrs. Shaw took as vehement a dislike as it was possible for one
of her gentle nature to do, against Milton. It was noisy, and
smoky, and the poor people whom she saw in the streets were
dirty, and the rich ladies over-dressed, and not a man that she
saw, high or low, had his clothes made to fit him. She was sure
Margaret would never regain her lost strength while she stayed in
Milton; and she herself was afraid of one of her old attacks of
the nerves. Margaret must return with her, and that quickly.

This, if not the exact force of her words, was at any rate the
spirit of what she urged on Margaret, till the latter, weak,
weary, and broken-spirited, yielded a reluctant promise that, as
soon as Wednesday was over she would prepare to accompany her
aunt back to town, leaving Dixon in charge of all the
arrangements for paying bills, disposing of furniture, and
shutting up the house. Before that Wednesday--that mournful
Wednesday, when Mr. Hale was to be interred, far away from either
of the homes he had known in life, and far away from the wife who
lay lonely among strangers (and this last was Margaret's great
trouble, for she thought that if she had not given way to that
overwhelming stupor during the first sad days, she could have
arranged things otherwise)--before that Wednesday, Margaret
received a letter from Mr. Bell.