Emily if she could get all her things into a single box; if not, they would
have to send to Brighton for another. Emily had no notion of what her box
would hold, and she showed little disposition to count her dresses or put
her linen in order. She seemed entirely taken up thinking what books, what
pictures, what china she could take away. She would like to have this
bookcase, and might she not take the wardrobe from her own room? and she
had known the clock all her life, and it did seem so hard to part with it.

'My dear girl, all these things belong to Mr. Price; you really cannot take
them away without asking him.'

'But he won't refuse; he'll let me have anything I like.'

'He can't very well refuse, so I think it would be nicer on your part not
to ask for anything.'

'I must have some of these things: I want to make the house we are going to
live in, in London, look as much like Ashwood as possible.'

'You'd like to take the whole house with you if you could.'

'Yes; I think I should.' And Emily turned and looked vaguely up and down
the passage. 'I wonder if he'd give me the picture of the windmill?'

'The landing would look very bare without it.'

'It would indeed, and when we came down here on a visit--for I suppose we
shall come down here sometimes on visits--I should miss the picture
dreadfully, so I don't think I'll ask him for it. But I must take some
pictures away with me. There are a lot of old things in the lumber-room at