"Where are they all, professor?" he inquired.
"Gone, Mr. Worth," answered Morris solemnly, as he placed a chair for his guest.
"Gone! not dead!" exclaimed Ishmael, dropping into the offered seat.
"Not all dead, but all gone," answered the professor sadly, letting himself sink into a seat near Ishmael.
"Your wife?" inquired the young man.
"There—and there," answered the professor, pointing first down and then up; "her body is in the earth; her soul in heaven, I hope."
"And your daughters, professor?" inquired Ishmael, in a voice of sympathy.
"Both married, Mr. Worth. Ann Maria married Lewis Digges, old Commodore Burghe's boy that he set free before he died, and they have moved up to Washington to better themselves, and they're doing right well, as I hear. He drives a hack and she clear starches. They have three children, two girls and a boy. I have never seen one of them yet."
"And your other daughter?"
"Mary Ellen? She married Henry Parsons, a free man, by trade a blacksmith, and they live in St. Inigoes. They have one child, a boy. I haven't seen them either since they have been married."