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come, and is waiting for orders, and none of us can tell where he is."
"Mr. Ireton," Juliet quietly answered, "was here just now; and I doubt not but you will find him in the garden."
"Yes," cried the boy, "he slid out of the window."
"Goodness! was he in here, then, Master Loddard? Well! my lady'll be in a fine passion, if she should hear of it!"
This was enough to give the tidings a messenger: the boy darted forward, and reached the house in a moment.
The Abigail ran after him; Juliet, too, followed, dreading the impending storm, yet still more averse to remaining within the reach and power of Ireton. And the knowledge, that he would now, for the rest of the morning, be sole master of the house, filled her with such horrour, of the wanton calumny to which his unprincipled egotism might expose her, that, rather than continue under the same roof with a character so unfeelingly
