“No, no; it is not within my province. But I can only assure you that that unfortunate young lady has got herself, as well as two more of her schoolfellows—namely, Priscilla Weir and Mabel Lushington—into the most horrible scrape. Priscilla’s conscience will not allow her to live any longer under the load of unconfessed sin, and it is her duty to inform Mrs Lyttelton.”
“And me,” said Saxon in a determined voice.
“You must be patient, sir. I will not tell you Priscilla’s secrets. They are her own. But I should advise you immediately to take steps to remove Miss Brooke from Mrs Lyttelton’s school.” Saxon said a few words more, and then took his leave. He had a good deal of business to attend to that day in connection with the late Mr Brooke’s affairs; the winding-up of his small property and the paying of a few trifling outstanding bills must be attended to as soon as possible. But Annie—what was to be done with her? Saxon himself intended to return to Australia within a month. His business called him there, and he did not think he ought to delay. But what was to become of Annie?
She must not return to school; indeed, her circumstances forbade such a hurry. Would it be possible to settle her somewhere with Mrs Shelf? Saxon thought over this idea, but dismissed it. Annie was far too clever to be left in the hands of a person whom she could completely rule. The young man felt stunned at the depth of her wickedness. He spent a very anxious night, and returned by an early train on the following morning to Rashleigh. There he was met by the appalling information that Annie had gone.
It was Dan who first told him at the station. Dan blurted out the words, almost sobbing as he spoke. Mrs Shelf was so bad that she couldn’t speak. She was lying in the kitchen, where a neighbour had found her when she had come in in the morning. The poor woman was moaning to herself in the most dreadful way. Dan knew no particulars except that Miss Annie was nowhere to be found and that Mrs Shelf was ill.
“Really,” thought Saxon, “troubles thicken. I wonder when we shall see a gleam of daylight. Was there ever such a troublesome and terrible girl put into the world before?”
But the very greatness of the emergency roused all that was strongest and best in the young man. He soon got the truth out of poor Mrs Shelf, who blamed herself almost more than Annie for having gone to Rashleigh. Having tried to assure the poor old woman that she was not in fault, and that he was wrong not to have insisted on taking Annie with him to London, he further soothed her by saying that he would soon find Annie; that it was absolutely impossible for a young girl like Annie Brooke to lose herself in these days of clever detectives and patient investigations.
“We’ll have her back,” he said. “We’ll have her back, and you must get well. And now, I am going immediately—yes, immediately—to take steps. You must have a neighbour in to look after you, Mrs Shelf; and I will write you or send a telegram whenever I get news.”
“But oh, sir! there is something else on my mind,” said Mrs Shelf; and she told him the story of Dawson and the cheque.
“Oh, that is all right,” said Saxon in a cheery voice. “We will settle the matter with Dawson as soon as ever letters of administration have been taken out with regard to Mr Brooke’s will. Don’t fret any more about that and don’t blame poor little Annie more than you can help, Mrs Shelf.”