"Where does her aunt live?" asked the girl.
"I do not know," returned Mrs. Stanhope, "but I think at a considerable distance from this place."
The girl retired, and Mrs. Stanhope reëntered the breakfast room.
"Who was in the porch?" inquired Miss Pinkerton, as her sister assumed her place by the coffee urn.
"Mrs. Edson's servant," returned she, arranging the cups with an absent air.
"What did she want?" asked Miss Martha, opening her muffin and dropping a piece of golden butter on its smoking surface.
"She brought me a note from her mistress," said Mrs. Stanhope, "who has departed suddenly on a visit to her aunt, and wishes me to superintend the care of her mansion for a time."
"I guess she is coming out of her dumps," said Martha. "I always said there was no danger of her dying of grief for the loss of a husband. She'll come home one of these days a gay widow, and set her cap for Col. Malcome. I always thought she had a liking for him."
Mrs. Stanhope made no reply to this unfeeling speech. After breakfast the colonel chanced in to take the long-forgotten package away, when he learned of Louise's sudden departure, and went home in a state of increased anguish and despair.
CHAPTER XXXIX.