“She’s gone!” declared the girl.
“Look on the dresser!” burst forth Robert dramatically. “The note will be found.”
Mrs. Bruce paused, coffee-cup in hand, and looked at the cook, but did not speak.
“All right, Alice,” said Irving carelessly. “She has run into a neighbor’s.”
“No, sir, it looks queer up there,” returned the girl, her brogue increasing. “The bedclothes is all folded. Not a thing is on the dresser, sir. She’s gone.”
Alice’s blank expression began to be reflected in Irving’s face.
“Folded? What does that signify?” he asked.
“’Tis her trunk there too, sir. Locked and strapped it is. Sure she niver said a word to me!”
Irving pushed his chair back from the table. He looked at Mrs. Bruce. She had grown very white.