Now she drew the envelope addressed to her in Nanny’s neat, round, child-like handwriting from the pocket of her gown.
Opening it she read,
“Dear Miss Iola, You’ll be surprised to hear I am leaving here for another job. It’s a long story, too long to write about, but I hopes I’ll have a chance to tell you what’s happening. I’ll be at Primrose Cottage from next Wednesday the 12th till the 14th. I’m hoping that you can come over and see me or I’ll have the chance to come to you.
I’m wearing your Christmas present and nice and warm it is too. I hopes you’re keeping well.
God bless you and my love,
Nanny.”
Iola read the letter through very carefully twice as if it was a talisman she must cling to and which contained beneath Nanny’s painstakingly formed words, a message that only she coul
