"Is he dead?" asked Mr. Bennington, startled by the announcement.
"Yes, sir; he died about a fortnight ago."
"It is only six weeks since he left here," added Leopold, who was even more shocked than his father at the news.
"We didn't hear a word from him after he left Rockland," continued Mr. Bennington. "I'm sure I didn't think he was so near his end, though I saw that he couldn't live very long."
"I thought he would be able to get out again, till the very day he died. He ate a hearty dinner, for a sick man, and then was taken with bleeding at the lungs, and died right off. I went with his body to the place he was brought up, and he was buried a week ago last Thursday, from the house of his uncle. He had good care while he lived, if he was in the hospital; and I believe everybody in the town turned out to go to his funeral. But I guess I'll go to my room now."
Leopold conducted her to the chamber, placed her valise in a chair, and saw that the wash-stand was provided with water and towels.
"Are you sure this is the room that Harvey Barth had?" asked Miss Liverage, as Leopold was about to retire.
"Sure as I am of anything," replied the young man. "I used to stay with him a good deal, when I wasn't busy. Was Harvey Barth a relation of yours?"
"Well, no, not exactly; but I was a good deal interested in him. You are Leopold, I suppose," added Miss Liverage, who appeared to be anxious to change the direction the conversation had taken.
"That's my name."