“Do you mean he’s gone away from your house?” asked Ruth, curiously, for Agnes was too much surprised to speak.
“Shure, he’s gone away from Milton entirely,” said the little Irishman.
“What for?” demanded both girls together.
“Begorra! he didn’t say, now,” said Mr. Murphy, slowly. “Come to think of ut, he niver told me. But I knowed the letter puzzled him.”
“What letter?” asked Ruth.
“He never told me he got a letter,” cried Agnes, much put out.
“It was there last evening when he got home. The postman brought it jest before supper,” said Mr. Murphy, reflectively. “Ye, see, Neale was over here all the evening and shure, he didn’t see the letter till he come home.”
“Oh!” was the chorused exclamation.
“I see he was troubled in his mind this mornin’,” said the cobbler. “‘What’s atin’ on yer mind, lad?’ says I to him. But niver a wor’rd did he reply to me till afther he’d been over here and come back again. Then he came downstairs with his bist clo’es on and his bag in his hand.”
“For pity’s sake!” wailed Agnes, “where has he gone?”