“Good-bye, Uncle Maurice; good-bye for ever and ever. Ask God to tell you everything. Good-bye, Uncle Maurice;” and then she came back to the house.
There was now nothing more to be done except to write a letter to Mrs Shelf.
“Dear Shelfy,” wrote Annie on a piece of black-edged paper, “I have gone away. I sent you to Rashleigh on purpose. You won’t ever find me again, for I am going to a part of the world where no one will know me. I shall lead my own life and perhaps be happy. Please forget me, Shelfy, and tell John Saxon to do the same; and when you hear all the wicked, wicked, dreadful stories that you will hear about me, try to believe that—that I am sorry now, and would be different if I could—but I can’t. Try, too, to believe that I will never forget Uncle Maurice nor—nor the old place. Good-bye, Shelfy, darling. Annie.”
This letter was not left where it could be immediately discovered, but was put with great discrimination and craft by Annie in Mrs Shelf’s work-box, which she knew the old lady would be scarcely likely to open that night, but would most assuredly look into on the following day. Thus she would have a longer time to escape; for when Mrs Shelf came back and found that Annie was not in the house, she would naturally wait for a little before she began to search for her at all. For Annie all her life had been fond of prowling about in the dusk. Thus her escape was practically assured.
Chapter Twenty Six.
Dawson’s Shop.
When Mrs Shelf arrived at Rashleigh she made haste to carry out her commissions. These she executed with her accustomed despatch, and would have been back at the Rectory some time before seven o’clock but for a little event which took place in no less a shop than Dawson the butcher’s.
Mrs Shelf, having bought the manuscript book and the other odds and ends which Annie required, suddenly thought that she might as well choose the meat and small dainties which would be necessary for the reduced family at the Rectory during the next few days.