Annabelle slammed the door behind her as she ran into her own house and up the stairs to her room. She threw herself on the bed, too shocked to even cry. She was still lying there when Blanche let herself into the room and spoke softly to the woman she had known as a child.

“I know you didn’t do what they say, Miss Annabelle. I’ve seen you almost every day, all your life. I know you were a good wife to him. I don’t know what happened between you two, but I know it has nothing to do with you.” And with that, she moved forward and put her arms around Annabelle and they cried together. Annabelle couldn’t tell her what had really caused the divorce, but at least Blanche knew she wasn’t capable of what she was accused of. And as they cried and hugged, Annabelle missed her mother more than ever. She couldn’t even imagine what her life would be like now. She had refused to divorce him, and thinking he was saving her from a worse fate, he had branded her as an adulteress forever.

She got a taste of what it meant in the last weeks of August, as the summer season drew to a close. She went to the store a few times, and the post office, and each time she did, the people she saw on the way turned away and refused to speak to her. Men glared at her in disapproval, and women looked right through her. She had in fact become the pariah she had warned Josiah she would be. He had thought this would be best for her, and had freed her out of love and remorse, and in so doing he had condemned her to a life sentence of disapproval and contempt. She had been banished by her own from her own world. She knew then that her life was over in Newport and New York, and she would never again be admitted into proper homes, or into polite circles. She would forever be the adulteress whom Josiah Millbank had divorced. He might as well have taken her out and hanged her. The decent woman she had always been was as good as dead.





Chapter 13




Annabelle went back to New York in the first week of September, and left Blanche, William, and several other servants at the Newport house. It was no longer her parents’ house, but her own. She took Thomas back to New York with her, and she was planning to sell all but one of her father’s cars.

She stayed at Josiah’s apartment, and knew she had to find a house, but she had no idea where to start or how to do it, and she knew Josiah wasn’t coming back soon, if at all. He had said that he and Henry would be gone for many months, or longer, and she had heard nothing from him since he left for Mexico. He had completely abandoned her, and so had everyone else. And Josiah thought he had done it for her own good.

She went back to work on Ellis Island while she tried to figure out what to do. People were still coming in from Europe, even though the British had mined the Atlantic, and the Germans were still sinking boats. And it was while talking to a French woman one day about her experiences that Annabelle knew what she had to do. It was the only thing she could think of, and it made more sense than staying in New York, and being shunned by everyone she knew. She didn’t care now if she died crossing the Atlantic, or once she was in Europe. In fact, she would have welcomed the release from the fate Josiah had unwittingly condemned her to with the divorce.

She spoke to several people at Ellis Island about what to do. The doctor she had worked for gave her a letter, as witness to her skills, which she planned to use at a hospital in France. He told her about a hospital that had been set up in an abbey in Asnières-sur-Oise near Paris, staffed only by women. It had been established the year before by a Scotswoman, Dr. Elsie Inglis, who had proposed to do the same in England and had been refused. The French government had welcomed her with open arms, and she had taken over and personally set up the hospital at the abbey, using women’s medical units to staff it, both doctors and nurses, with only a few male physicians, and Annabelle’s doctor friend at Ellis Island had encouraged her to go there, once she told him her plan.

Elsie Inglis was a forward-thinking woman and suffragette, who had studied medicine at the Edinburgh School of Medicine for Women. She had established her own medical college, and taught at the New Hospital for Women. The physician who had referred Annabelle to her was certain that any medical establishment Inglis set up would be medically sound and impeccably run. She had had the Abbaye de Royaumont up and running by December 1914, after the outbreak of war. And from all the referring doctor had heard, they were doing a great job caring for the wounded soldiers who were being brought to them from field hospitals at the front. Everything Annabelle heard about it told her that it was where she wanted to be, and that more than likely she would be most welcome. She didn’t care if she drove an ambulance or worked in the hospital. Whatever they needed from her, she was more than willing to do.

She had no reason to stay in the States now. She had no home, no relatives, no husband, and even her best friend had said she couldn’t see her anymore. Her parents’ friends and Josiah’s would be even more shocked. And since he had left the city, everyone assumed that she had broken his heart. She had been disgraced in every possible way, and no one would ever know the truth of what had happened. She had absolutely no reason to stay and every possible reason to leave.

Annabelle spent the next several days packing up everything she wanted to send to storage, and getting a new passport, since she hadn’t traveled in six years, since she was sixteen. She booked passage on the Saxonia going to France, and bought some sturdy clothes to wear once she got there. She had no need for frills or elegance anymore, and left all her jewelry and her mother’s in a vault at her father’s bank, and made the financial arrangements she’d need in Europe. She told no one what she was doing, and at the end of September she went back to Newport to say good-bye to Blanche, and the rest of the staff. There were five of them in the house for the winter, to take care of it and tend the grounds. It was enough, given the size of the cottage, but not too many. She told Blanche what she was doing and that she might not be back for a long time.

The old woman cried at everything that had happened, and bemoaned her young mistress’s fate, and the terrible things that might befall her in France. They all realized that she might not survive the trip over, given the minefields and the German submarines lurking at sea. Blanche was well aware that Annabelle didn’t care. She had nothing to lose and no one to live for. And at least at the front she might serve some purpose. She was taking all of her medical books with her, thinking that she might need them, and when she left Newport again two days later, they all cried as they waved good-bye, wondering if they’d ever see her again.

Once back in New York, Annabelle went to say good-bye to the doctors and nurses she had worked with at Ellis Island, and some of her favorite long-term patients, especially the children. Everyone was sorry to see her go, and she didn’t explain why. She told the head doctor she would be volunteering at a field hospital in France. It broke her heart to say good-bye.

All of her belongings from Josiah’s had gone to storage by then, and all she had left were the suitcases she was taking with her and what was in them, the rough clothes she had purchased for the trip, and several warm jackets and coats. She had managed to fit everything into three large valises, and she was planning to stay in her cabin on the ship, so she brought no evening clothes with her. She had taken out her passport and booked passage in her own name and not Josiah’s, and on her last day in New York she went for a long walk, past her parents’ house. It was the only thing left for her to say good-bye to. She stood there for a long moment, thinking of all that she had lost, and as she did, she saw one of their old neighbors get out of his car, notice her, and give her an evil look. He turned his back on her without greeting her, walked up the steps to his own home, and firmly shut the door. As she walked back to Josiah’s apartment, thinking about it, all it did was strengthen her resolve. She had nothing left in New York anymore.

Thomas drove Annabelle to the Cunard dock the next morning, in time to get her three meager suitcases on board. The Saxonia was a large fifteen-year-old ship built for passengers and cargo, with four towering masts and a tall funnel. She was built for size and not speed, and would be traveling across the Atlantic at fifteen knots. She was not luxurious, but comfortable, and a moneymaker for the line because of the cargo, which reduced the passenger area considerably. And first class had been eliminated entirely since the outbreak of the war. She was by no means as prestigious as the other ships Annabelle had previously traveled on with her parents, but she didn’t care, and had booked one of the larger staterooms in second class.