"Just before he went away.--" Was he then gone, and should she not see him after all?
A cloud gathered upon her brow, and Ida readily divining its cause, replied, "Yes, George is gone.

Either he or father must go to New Orleans, and so George of course went.

Isn't it too bad?
I cried and fretted, but he only pulled my ears, and said he should think I'd be glad for he knew we wouldn't want a great six-footer domineering over us, and following us every where, as he would surely do were he at home." Mary felt more disappointed than she was willing to acknowledge, and for a moment she half wished herself back in Chicopee, but soon recovering her equanimity, she ventured to ask how long George was to be gone.
"Until April, I believe," said Ida; "but any way you are to stay until he comes, for Aunt Martha promised to keep you.

I don't know exactly what George said to her about you, but they talked together more than two hours, and she says you are to take music lessons and drawing lessons, and all that.

George is very fond of music." Here thinking she was telling too much, Ida suddenly stopped, and as the tea bell just then rang, she started up, saying, "Oh, I forgot that father was waiting in the parlor to see you.