And in this roving and unguarded life she had contracted a reckless spirit of independence, a proud impatience of restraint, and a wild love of freedom, which might lead her into the gravest errors, precipitate her into the deepest misfortunes, and require the severest discipline of Providence to correct.
Hitherto her short life, though erratic, had been blameless.
Now deprived by death of her father, her only natural guardian, and the only authority she would recognize, her high spirit revolted at the thought of control by any other power. And above all, the idea of a degrading parochial interference in her personal matters was most abhorrent to her proud heart.
Thus, the strongest motives that could actuate a creature of her peculiar character prompted her to immediate flight—on the one hand, a loathing dread of the degradation of being sent to the union, or bound to a mistress, or left a burden upon the poor widow; and on the other hand, a longing desire for liberty, fresh air, and country scenery; and under all this a latent love of adventure, a romantic disposition, and a long-cherished secret resolution to make her own way in the world, combined an irresistible power to urge Annella to this strange proceeding.
From the hour of overhearing the conversation between the parish officers and the landlady, she had firmly determined upon making her escape into the country.
To hint such a purpose to Mrs. Corder she knew would be to raise instant and fatal opposition to her plans; and once resolved to escape, she was desirous that her departure should be without hindrance or pursuit. Therefore her withdrawal must be private as well as prompt.
But to leave the house without taking leave of her kind friends would seem ungrateful, and to leave them in anxiety concerning her fate would be cruel.
Therefore, after some consideration, she resolved upon the expedient of writing a farewell letter. When she had finished, folded, and directed this letter, she pinned it in front of the frame of her dressing-glass, in a conspicuous place, where she knew it must be found.
Next she made a large compact bundle of all the most valuable portions of her personal effects; then she put up a small parcel containing only a single change of clothing. And then she looked into her purse, that contained just half-a-crown, which had been slipped into her hand by Eudora, and accepted as a loan, to be repaid at some future day.
Lastly, she lay down upon the bed to rest while waiting for the dawn of day to commence her journey. She did not expect or even wish to sleep; yet scarcely had her head sunk upon her pillow, when her fatigue overcame her excitement and cast her into a deep sleep that lasted until morning.