“Then why did you scold him?”
“Because I was so wicked, I suppose. I couldn’t help it, sir.”
“But you think he has run away?”
“Yes, sir; I’m sure of it. He said he would some day if I was so cruel, and that seemed to make me more cruel, and—and—he has gone.”
“It is impossible!” said Uncle Josiah. “He must have met with some accident.”
“No, sir, he has run away and left me. He said he would. I saw him go—out of the window, and he took a bundle with him, and—and—what shall I do? What shall I do?”
“Took a bundle?” said Uncle Josiah, starting.
“Yes, sir, and—and I wish I was dead.”
“Silence, you foolish little woman! How dare you wish such a thing? Stop; listen to what I say. Did my nephew Lindon come to the yard last night?”
“No, sir; but him and my Jem were talking together for ever so long in the office, and I couldn’t get Jem away.”