Sifter Louisa drew it from among the folds of her long black robes. He turned away from her while he read the few blurred hastily-written lines in which Janie said good-bye to the woman whom she had loved. He did not want Sister Louisa to see his face. He was more touched by her story than he liked to show.
"Dearest Mother Louisa," Janie had written, in her unformed girlish hand—"Don't be more angry and grieved than you can help! If they had all been like you, I would have stayed. But everyone will despise me now. I shall go to some place where nobody knows me, and earn my own living. Please forgive me! I do love you and St. Elizabeth's very much; but I must go away—I must! I can't bear to stay now that everybody knows all about me. I shall change my name, so you need not look for me."
The letter was simply signed "Janie"—nothing more. Robert handed it back to its owner with a grave word of thanks.
"How is it," he said, "that I did not hear of her leaving you before I came to Winstead? Mrs. Rumbold is supposed to give me information of anything of importance respecting the girl. I have not had a word from her."
"Nor have we, although we wrote and telegraphed at once. I am afraid that she is away from home. We did not know your address, or that you were interested in her."
"Of course not. I kept that matter to myself," said Hubert gloomily. "It seems that it was foolish of me to do so. May I ask what steps you have taken to discover the poor child?"
The Sisters, he found, had not been remiss in their endeavors. They had placed themselves in communication with a London detective; they had consulted the local police; they had made inquiries at railway stations and roadside inns. But as yet they had heard nothing of the fugitive. The girl was strong and active, a good walker and runner; it seemed pretty evident that she had not gone by train or by ordinary roads. She must have plunged into the fields and taken a cross-country route in some direction. Probably she had gone to London; and in London she was tolerably safe from pursuit.
"Had she money?" Hubert asked of Sister Louisa.
"Not a penny."
"She will be driven back to you by hunger."