For a minute Mrs. Brown felt that she could not open the box; but, after a minute's hesitation, she said—
"If you will lift it into the front room, I will open it."
"All right," answered the man; and he handed the key to Mrs. Brown.
With trembling fingers she unlocked it, and lifted the lid. She did not recognize the first article she lifted out, for it was Fanny's new dress, now limp and tumbled and creased.
Then came articles that Mrs. Brown knew quite well, and these brought the tears to her eyes, and a pang to her heart, but the business had to be gone through, and the articles compared with the list the man had given to her.
At the very bottom, underneath caps and aprons and all the small keepsakes she had treasured, was a cotton bag, and in this was Judds' collecting-card, with its record of what she had paid; and also the watch and chain, which had been the source of all Fanny's trouble, and her mother's sorrow and disappointment.
At the sight of this Mrs. Brown burst into a violent flood of tears.
"I cannot do any more," she said, with a gasp.
The man lifted his cap, and scratched his head.
"It's kind of upset you, missus," he said, in a tone of apology. "But there, we've got to the end now, and if you'll just write your name at the bottom of this paper I shan't want to bother you again."