“It strikes me you won’t catch any fish to-day.”
“Does it? You be off and get the parapluies.”
The low front window stood open when I reached home. It was the readiest way of entering; and I passed on to the passage to the umbrella-stand. The grenadier came dashing out of her kitchen, looking frightened.
“Oh!” said she, “it’s you!”
“I have come back for the umbrellas, Elizabeth; the sun’s like a furnace. Why! what have you got there?”
The kitchen was strewed with clothes from one end of it to the other. On the floor stood the two boxes left by Miss Copperas.
“I am only putting up Miss Copperas’s things,” returned Elizabeth, in her surly way. “It’s time they were sent off.”
“What a heap she must have left behind!” I remarked, and left the grenadier to her work.
We got home in the evening, tired out. The grenadier had a choice supper ready; and, in answer to me, said the trunks of Miss Copperas were packed and gone. When bed-time came, Tod was asleep at the window, and wouldn’t awake. The grenadier had gone to her room ages ago; I wanted to go to mine.