Annie helped herself to the excellent breakfast provided by Mrs Shelf. She was really hungry, and was in excellent spirits. Things were turning out well. Even the Rectory would be endurable if she might leave it on Monday. She made a careful calculation in her own mind. This was Friday morning. She would have to go to London on Monday night. She must sleep at a hotel; that would be all the better fun. Then she would start on Tuesday from Victoria Station and arrive in Paris that night. Nothing mattered after that; all would be golden after that. Her reaping-time would arrive; her harvest would be ready for her to gather. Oh yes, she was a happy and contented girl this morning! "How nice the home-made bread is!" she said; "and the butter is so good! Have you got Cowslip and Dewlip still, Uncle Maurice?" "Yes, my dear," he answered, brightening up at her interest in the Rectory animals; "and Dewlip has such a lovely calf with a white star on her forehead. We have called it after you--Annie. I hope you don't mind. Mrs Shelf would do it; for she took it into her head that the calf had a look of you." "Really, uncle! That's not a compliment; but I don't care. I'll have some of that strawberry jam, if you please." "The jam is good, isn't it?" said Mr Brooke. "It is made from the last crop of strawberries. Mrs Shelf is a first-rate housekeeper." Annie helped herself plentifully. She poured rich cream on the jam, and ate with an epicure's appreciation. At last her appetite was satisfied, and she had time to consider as to when she would break her tidings to Uncle Maurice. "Are you coming out with me?" she asked. "What are we going to do with ourselves this morning?" "Well, my love--I am really sorry--it is most unlucky--I haven't suffered as I am doing to-day--I may say for months. I suppose it is the excitement of having you back again, little Annie; but I really do fear that until my head gets better I must remain quiet. I get so giddy, my darling, when I try to walk; but doubtless by lunch-time I shall be better. You must amuse yourself alone this morning, my little girl; but I have no doubt that Mrs Shelf has all kinds of plans to propose to you." Annie stood up. Outside, the garden smiled; but the little room in which they breakfasted, warm enough in the evening, was somewhat chilly now, for it faced due west. "I do want to talk to you so badly," she said; "and--can I just have a few words with you between now and post-time? I must write a letter for the post, and I have to consult you about it. I won't worry you, dear; only the thing must be talked about and arranged, so when shall I come to you?" "The post goes early from here," said the rector--"at one o'clock. It is nine now; come to me at twelve, Annie. I dare say I shall be all right by then." "All right or not," thought Annie, "he'll have to hear my little bit of information not later that twelve o'clock."