"Yes, at once. I do not know where we shall go," she added, understanding the unspoken question. "I must think, but upon one thing I am determined, and that is not to stop another night in this house until Mr. Mortomley is master of it again. And if he never is again—"
"Oh! ma'am," exclaimed the girl in protest, and then she burst into tears.
"Don't cry," commanded her mistress imperiously. "We shall all of us have plenty of time for crying hereafter; but there are other things to be done now. Pack your own clothes as well as mine. I will see to your master's, and tell Susan to put up hers also."
"Do you mean, ma'am, that you mean to leave the house with no one in it but those men. What will become of all the things?"
"I do not care what becomes of them," was the answer. "Now go and do as I have told you."
On her way upstairs Esther encountered Mr. Meadows, who about that house seemed indeed ubiquitous.
"She is a good deal cut up, ain't she?" he said confidentially.
"It is no business of yours whether she is or not," Esther retorted indignantly.
"Whether she is or not," mimicked Mr. Meadows, "you need not fly out at a fellow like that. It is none so pleasant for me being planted in such a beastly dull hole as this. The governor might as well have sent me to take charge of a church and churchyard. That job would have been about as lively as this precious Homewood place."