“No, I’m going upstairs,” and gathering her belongings together Mrs. Ogden departed.
Barclay found the dining room deserted, and halfheartedly ate the tempting dishes set before him. Inquiry from the butler had elicited the news that Walter Ogden and Professor Norcross had breakfasted and gone down town some time before.
“Has Miss Ogden been down?” he finally asked the butler, who hovered behind his chair.
“No, sor, she is after breakfastin’ in her room. Another muffin, sor?” holding the bread plate coaxingly before him. Barclay was a favorite with the servants.
“No more, thanks.” Barclay pushed back his plate. “Has Rose, the parlor maid, left the house yet?”
“Yes, sor. I saw her go over an hour ago, sor.”
“Can you tell me her full name and address?”
“Rose O’Day, sor. She wint direct to the station, sor, an’ I understood her to say she was goin’ to her home in New York, but I dunno her exact address. I’ll ax the cook, sor, if you wish.”
“Do so,” and Barclay, picking up the morning paper left by Ogden, listlessly read its contents. Charles was back in a short time.
“She lives somewhere in Cohoes, near Troy, New York, sor; but the cook doesn’t know her house address.”