'Where is Eva? Is she not down?' asked Amy, who was generally the last, and now sat down to take a hurried breakfast. 'No, she has not appeared yet.--You might run and see if she has overslept herself, Vava,' suggested Stella. 'I wish you'd go, Stella,' replied Vava. Stella did not look at all pleased at Vava's disobligingness; but she was too dignified to argue, and getting up she went herself to Eva's room. Amy looked with disapproval at Vava, who said, 'Eva did not like it when I went to her room last night.' 'I think she had a headache; she said so when I knocked at her door,' observed Amy. 'She is not in her room!' exclaimed Stella on her return. Amy got up, looking disturbed. 'I wonder if Mrs. Morrison has seen her?' she remarked, and went to inquire. 'Yes, she's had her breakfast and has gone off to town,' said the old lady. 'Gone to town? It's only a quarter-past eight! Why has she gone so early?' she inquired. 'That I can't tell you,' said Mrs. Morrison. 'I shall come up with you; I do dislike travelling by myself in these morning trains. I can't understand Eva,' Amy said with a sigh. It did not occur to Amy to ask the housekeeper if Eva had left any message or explanation for her, and so she got none. As a matter of fact, Eva had said as she went out, 'If they ask where I've gone just say I have business in town.' Mrs. Morrison made no reply, nor did she appear to see the two parcels which Eva tried to hide as she left the house; but when the gate shut behind her Mrs. Morrison looked after her with kindly pity. 'Poor bairn, she'll learn by this bitter lesson,' she said to herself; and yet Eva had made no confidences to her, nor had Mrs. Morrison said anything to the girl about her private affairs. In fact, Vava was inclined to think that the old woman was blind to Eva's faults, for she seemed to pet her even more than the rest. She would have been confirmed in this opinion if she had been down earlier; for when Eva came into the kitchen and asked in a hurried way if she could have a cup of tea, as she wanted to go earlier to town, instead of saying she ought to have told her the evening before, Mrs. Morrison said pleasantly, 'You can have your breakfast as soon as you like. What train must you catch?' 'The 8.5,' replied Eva. 'Then you have twenty-five minutes to eat a good breakfast, and if you will be so good as to sit by the fire and toast this bread I will have it ready for you in five minutes,' declared the housekeeper. It was a cold March morning, and Eva looked very chilly, and perhaps it was that which made the kindly Scotchwoman suggest the toast and draw up a chair for her before the bright kitchen fire, for as a matter of fact she generally made it on the toaster.