“Yes, I suppose so. I expected to go to my aunt’s to-day, but Drake hasn’t heard from her; neither have I.”
“And your papa went and left you all alone?”
“He had to, for he had to join his troops, and he thought my aunt would be here before this.”
Mabel thought this a dreadful state of affairs, and looked her sympathy.
“You see,” Harold went on, “these aren’t our things; not many of them. Father rented the house furnished, and only brought a few of our own things here.”
“Oh!” That was better, Mabel thought, but her curiosity was still unsatisfied. “Where shall you go to-night?”
“Oh, I’ll go home with Drake, I suppose.”
“Who is he?”
“The coachman. Well, not the coachman, exactly. He does all sorts of things, and his wife has kept house for us all winter.”
“Oh, yes; but I should think it would be much nicer with your aunt.”