"I promise to think so, and I have every faith in you. It is all for your good, you know, Annette. When you are out of this country where are your aunt and uncle going to live."
"In Europe."
"But in what part of Europe?"
"I don't know. All that uncle and aunt say is, 'We are going to Europe.' 'But in what country?' I asked. 'Don't be inquisitive,' they answered; 'we are going to Europe;' and they will say nothing more. I am sometimes afraid to speak when they are near me."
"Poor little Annette! Now attend to me, dear. Wherever you are you can write to me."
"Yes, Basil, yes. And may I? Oh, how good you are! Oh, if ever I should get a letter from you! It will be the next best thing to having you with me."
"Remember what I am saying, Annette. I want you to write to me, wherever you are, and I want to answer your letters. This is the way it can be done. When you are settled write me your first letter--I shall not mind how long it is----"
"It shall be a long, long one, Basil."
"And address it to 'Mr. Basil Whittingham, Post-office, Sydney, New South Wales.' I shall be sure to get it. Now for my answer. If you are happy in your uncle's house, and tell me so, I will send my answer there; but if you think it will be best for me not to send it to his house, I will address it to the post-office in whatever town or city you may be living. Some friend in the new country (you are sure to make friends, my dear) will tell you how you may get my letters. This looks a little like deceit, but it will be pardonable deceit if you are unhappy--not otherwise. Do you understand?"
"Perfectly, Basil. I shall have something to think of now; you have given me something to do. And will you ever come to me?"