There had been no opportunity to meet young men who might have proved claimants for her hand.
“When did Miss Florence leave the house, Jane?” he inquired, as he seated himself at the table.
“Most an hour since,” the girl answered, coldly, for she disliked Curtis as much as she loved and admired Florence.
“It is sad, very sad that she should be so headstrong,” said Curtis, with hypocritical sorrow.
“It is sad for her to go away from her own uncle’s house,” returned Jane.
“And very—very foolish.”
“I don’t know about that, sir. She had her reasons,” said Jane, significantly.
Curtis coughed.
He had no doubt that Florence had talked over the matter with her hand-maiden.
“Did she say where she was going, Jane?” he asked.