Wayland listened with amazement depicted on his features.
"Strange; all wonder, isn't it, Morris?" pursued Lester. "Let's go below and discuss the matter."
The gentlemen descended to the parlor, where Aunt Eunice soon presented herself, and, with rueful countenance, said:
"Please, massa, who is to pour the coffee this morning? Missus gone, you know."
"Well, Eunice, suppose you run up stairs, and ask Miss Winnie if she will not condescend to perform that office this morning, as we find ourselves so suddenly bereft of a housekeeper?" said Lester, in a mock-serious tone.
Winnie of course assented, and passed into the breakfast-room, where she found her brother and Lester already seated at the table.
"Good-morning, Miss Morris," said the latter. "A romance, such as we read of in old knights' tales, was enacted in our house last night, in consequence of which a forlorn bachelor has to ask of you the favor to preside at his desolate board this morning."
"I shall be pleased to serve you," returned Winnie, assuming the head of the table, and so prettily did she perform the duties of her new office, that Lester forgot his muffins and sandwiches, in admiration of his newly-installed housekeeper pro tem.
Miss Mary's elopement was a three days' wonder, and then the affair was as if it had never been; save that the servants could not sufficiently admire Miss Winnie, or sufficiently rejoice over Miss Mary's departure. "O," said Aunt Eunice, "don't I wish massa would marry you, Miss Winnie, and then the house would be like heaven—'deed it would!"
CHAPTER XIII.