"Not exactly! She is going away."
"Going where?"
"To England!—hand me that vest, Jo—with Mrs. Major Wheatly."
Miss Jo sat agape at the tidings.
"It is very sudden," said Val, getting into his Sunday waistcoat. "Miss Rose had notice of it day before yesterday—it was that night, the night of that terrible affair at Redmon, you know, that it was proposed to her. She declined then, although the terms were double what she gets now, and the work very much less; but yesterday afternoon she accepted."
"She did! What made her change her mind?"
"Well, Mrs. Marsh told her, I believe, that now Lady Leroy was gone, and Nathalie come into her fortune, there would no longer be any need to keep the school, and that, in point of fact, it would break up. Of course, Miss Rose at once accepted the other offer, and leaves in a very few days."
"Direct for England?"
"Yes, that is to say, by way of Quebec. Mrs. Major Wheatly is a very great lady, and must have a companion for herself, and a governess for her little girl, and Miss Rose suits to a T. It's a very good thing for the little school-mistress, but she will be missed here. The poor looked upon her as an angel sent direct from heaven, to make their clothes and buy their blankets, and look after them when sick, and teach their young ones for nothing."
"Well, I am sure! I declare, Val, I'm sorry! She was the nicest little thing!"