"No," said Jenny, "her father."
"Her father!" exclaimed Miss Martha, in a tone of surprise. "How in the world could he leave his sick wife, I should like to know?"
"Mrs. Howard is getting better, I believe," remarked Jenny.
"Well, that's strange enough," continued Miss Pinkerton; "with that impudent Hannah Doliver for a nurse, I wonder she has not died before now."
Hannah Doliver was Miss Martha's utter detestation, though why, we cannot tell, as the little dark woman had never injured her, nor had Miss Pinkerton ever exchanged above a dozen syllables with her in her life. But it was one of those unaccountable dislikes which often arise in people of certain temperaments, on first sight of a particular individual.
Mrs. Stanhope said she was glad Florence had gone a journey, for the dear girl had looked pale and sickly of late, and she thought change of scene might be beneficial to her health.
Miss Martha inquired if Jenny knew how Edith Malcome was getting along.
"I have just come from her," said Jenny; "she is very much changed. All her beautiful hair has been cut away, and she is, O, so thin and wasted! But they call her slowly improving."
"Who takes care of her?" asked Miss P.
"Her waiting-woman, Sylva, I believe," returned Jenny.