"I remember her quite well. She ran away."
"Before you left?"
"Before I left," said the girl, looking down at the cigarette she had taken from her lips and held between her fingers. Suddenly she threw it into the fire, and sitting erect, while a hot flush crossed her face, went on, "Why do you want to know?"
"Oh, nothing! What sort of a girl she was, for instance."
"A wild little creature—a horrid, ungrateful, bad-tempered girl! They—we were all glad when she went."
"Why, the old woman—what's her name?—Sister Louisa—said that she was a general favorite!"
"I'm sure she wasn't. When were you there?"
"The day after her departure, I think."
"And what took you there, Mr. Lepel?" There was a touch of bewilderment in Cynthia's voice.
"Curiosity, for the most part."