"I would kill myself, if I could fancy that Laura thought so," he said, as he hurried home.
There was a cart at the door of the house, men carrying furniture on the stairs. The doors of Mrs. Ashton's rooms were wide-open; packing-paper and straw were scattered about.
"What is the matter?" he asked of his landlady.
"A gentleman has taken Mrs. Ashton's rooms. This is his grand piano."
"Mrs. Ashton! where is she?" asked Arnold.
"She left this morning. I should have been glad of further notice, but fortunately"—
"Where have they gone?" interrupted Arnold.
"Home. I don't know where. I can't keep the run."
"It is in New England. Is there a directory of New England?"
"A directory of New England! The names of its towns would make a large book!"