Then followed a sale of all the furniture and draperies which the Byrons had used in the Broad Street flat; and one morning in July, the family left Aberdeen for England.
They were not to go to the castle at once to live, for the Earl of Carlisle, George's new guardian, had decreed that he should attend one of the great English schools for boys, joining his mother only at vacation times. Mrs. Byron did not desire to spend the months of George's absence alone in the great establishment, so she had taken a house near the school, where, except for occasional visits to the new domain, they would reside while George's education was being further advanced. But now they were going for a glimpse of their future home, and after to-day, Aberdeen would know them no more.
May Gray accompanied the Byrons to England, sturdily refusing to be left behind.
Mary Duff attended them to the coach, and the children's parting was a tearful one on both sides. But after many embraces, and the boy's promise to send her a letter every week, Mary allowed George to mount to the seat beside his mother; and as the conveyance rolled slowly away, she waved both chubby hands in response to George's steadily fluttering handkerchief, until the coach, Blue Dog, was lost to view.
After a night spent at the Nottingham inn, the Byrons hired a carriage and drove out to Newstead.
When they came to the Abbey woods, and the woman at the toll-bar held out her hand to receive their coins, Mrs. Byron, playfully feigning to be a stranger in order to hear what the toll-keeper would say, asked lightly,—
"To whom does this place belong?"
"The owner, Lord Byron, has been some weeks dead."
"And who is the next heir?" ventured Mrs. Byron.
Innocently the woman replied,—