She gave it, and he wrote it down in his notebook.
“How soon do you go?” he asked.
“I promised to be there by nine o’clock this morning,” she replied.
“So soon? Well, then I think it will not be best for you to see your aunt before starting. She is not likely to be up and would not wish to be disturbed, and you will be in again soon. So just leave your good-by with the girls.”
Ethel was well content with that arrangement, for she had dreaded the parting interview with Mrs. Eldon; besides she was pressed for time to finish her packing and take leave of the others.
The adieus of her cousins were very coldly spoken, and no interest shown in her new enterprise. That saddened her, though she had hardly expected anything else. But the parting with Nannette, who wept and clung to her in an almost frantic abandonment of grief and despair, was the hardest thing of all. Blanche and Harry also were much distressed over the parting, but forgot their own sorrow in efforts to soothe and comfort poor little Nannette. At last Blanche succeeded in doing so in a measure by promising that when they were out for their walk that afternoon they would all go to see Ethel in her new abode.
“Oh, yes, so you must! That’s a good idea, Blanche,” exclaimed Ethel. “I don’t think Mrs. Baker will mind, and I shall be just as glad to see you as you will be to see me.”
“But are we sure to be able to find the place?” asked Harry, standing near. “Here, I’ll write it down—street and number, I mean,” taking a small blank book from his pocket as he spoke, “and then we’ll be sure not to forget.”
“That’s right, Harry,” Ethel said with a faint smile. “I think you are going to make a good business man, as Uncle Albert says.” She gave the requested information, then a hasty and last good-by to each and hurried away, leaving Nannette in tears, the other two looking distressed and woe-begone.