This diverted Lady Braithwaite’s thoughts.
“That horrid dog-cart! You are going to let him take you in that! You will certainly be thrown out and killed!”
“I am not afraid,” said Annie, smiling; and, hearing William’s voice calling her from the hall, she bade them both good-bye and left the room, they following her to the front door.
Her manner was very quiet and composed; but Lilian was not easily deceived. She turned to her mother as the dog-cart disappeared down the drive.
“She does not mean to come back, mamma,” she said, in a low voice. And one of the servants standing at the back overheard and nodded to another, whispering:
“I told you so.”
William was in high spirits at driving his dear Annie again; but she was very silent, or talked without her usual brightness. He said nothing; but he thought to himself, “If she is so sorry to go away, she will be back all the sooner,” and, when, at the station, he had taken her ticket—first-class, in spite of her directions—and found her a comfortable carriage, he got in and flung his arms around her affectionately, and told her he should count the days till she came back. Then, to his sudden dismay, she burst into tears. The boy’s face fell.
“Annie, what is the matter?” Then, in a mysterious voice, “You haven’t cut away from Harry, have you?”
Annie nodded.
“Don’t tell any one at the Grange yet, William, there’s a dear, good old boy. I will write and explain. But I’m glad you know. I couldn’t bear it any longer. It was ruining both our lives; we never could have agreed, and we shall both be happier apart.”