the writing of the letter, and also theposting of it! Oh dear, dear! I think I can almost manage anything. Iam sure May ought to be obliged to me, and so ought that tiresomePriscie. I would do anything for dear old May; but as to Priscie, I getmore sick of her each minute. If only Lady Lushington would send herback to England I should feel safer. She is just the sort of girl whowould wind herself to a grand confession, never caring how she draggedthe rest of us into the mire with her. She is just precisely that sortof detestable martyr being. But she sha'n't spoil my fun, or May's funeither, if we can help it."
Annie appeared at lunch just a wee bit late, but looking remarkablypretty, and apologising in the most amiable tones for her unavoidabledelay.
"I am not very good at hills," she explained to Lady Lushington. "Theyalways set my heart beating rather badly. But never mind; the lettersare posted and off our minds."
"One of those letters is by no means off my mind," said Lady Lushingtonin a fierce tone, and glancing with reproachful eyes at Mabel. Anniebent towards her and said in a whisper (she could not be heard by Mabeland Priscilla as some servants came up at the moment to present dishesto the two young ladies):--
"Please say _nothing_ before Priscilla, I beg of you."
The voice was so earnest and so sympathetic, and the little face lookedso appealing, that Lady Lushington patted the small white hand.Priscilla's voice, however, was now heard:
"It was a great pity, Annie, that you did run so fast to the post andthen toil up that steep hill, for I offered to go for you; and besides,the English post does not leave before five o'clock."
Annie felt furious, but replied in her meekest voice:
"I felt responsible for dear Lady Lushington's letters."
Nothing more was said on the subject during lunch, and afterwards theladies went off on a long expedition up into the mountains with someother friends whose acquaintance they had made in the hotel.
It was not until that evening, when they were going to bed, that Mabelheard a light tap at her door, and the next moment Annie, in her prettyblue dressing-gown, with her fair hair falling about her shoulders and abrush in her hand, entered.
"Have you time for a talk with poor little me, and has Priscie gone tobed?"
"Dear me! yes," said Mabel. "Priscilla has been in bed and asleep anhour ago. Come in, Annie, of course. I am dead with sleep myself, andif Aunt Hennie knew she might be annoyed. Now, what is it you want?"
Annie took the letter addressed to Mrs Priestley out of her pocket.
"To talk to you about this," she said, and she sat calmly down on achair and faced her tall companion. Mabel was also in the act ofbrushing out her luxuriant hair, and looked as handsome a creature ascould be found anywhere, in her long, flowing, white dressing-gown.When she read the address on the letter her eyes darkened and some ofthe colour left her cheeks.
"Are you writing to Mrs Priestley?" she said. "What about?"
"I wrote that letter to-day," said Annie, "to Lady Lushington'sdictation. The account has come in; total amount seventy pounds. LadyLushington is furious. I told her all the lies I could, dear Mabel,about the dresses you had _never_ got, and in the end I managed to avertthe evil day by asking Mrs Priestley to send the items. That satisfiedLady Lushington for the time. You will understand now why I could notaccept Priscilla's offer to post the letters, because I happened to havethis one in my hand and did not wish it to _go_. It must not go for aday or two. In the meantime we must do something."
"What--what?" said Mabel. "Oh Annie, I am so frightened! I knew quitewell that you would get me into an awful scrape about this. What is tobe done? Nothing will ever make Aunt Hennie believe that I spentseventy pounds on my dress during my last term at school. I know she isvery generous about money, but she is also careful and particular. Youwill see; I know her so well, Annie; and she will just get into a realpassion about this and write to Mrs Lyttelton, and Mrs Lyttelton will goto see Mrs Priestley, and--"
"Oh, I know," said Annie, trembling a good deal. "But that must neverbe allowed."
"How are we to manage?" said Mabel. "Annie, we must do something;" andshe dropped on her knees by her companion's side and took one of herhands. "You came out here on purpose to help me," she said. "You knewthat I should get into trouble, and you said you would find a way out."
"Am not I trying to with all my might and main?" said Annie.
"Well, but are you succeeding? I cannot see that keeping back thatletter means much. Aunt Hennie will expect an answer, and--and--wirefor it; she will really, if it does not come within a specified time;and she will give me such a talking to. Why, Annie, if the thing isdiscovered I shall be sent back to school--I know I shall--at the end ofthe holidays, and poor Priscie's prospects will be ruined, and--and--youwill be disgraced--"
"We all three will be disgraced for ever and ever," said Annie; "thereis no doubt on that point. That is what makes the thing so terriblyimportant. Something must be done, and at once--at once!"
"But, Annie, what?"
"I have a little scheme in my head; if you will keep up your courage andhelp me I believe we shall be successful."
"But what is it? Oh, do tell me! Oh, I am so terrified!"
"The first thing we must be positive about is this," said Annie:"Priscilla is to know nothing."
"Of course not," said Mabel. "Mabel, I do wish we could get her back toEngland; she is so tiresome and in the way, and I have a great fear inmy head about her."
"What is that? She is harmless enough, poor thing! Only, of course,she does look such a dowd. But, then, Aunt Henrietta has taken such afancy to her."
"Oh, you are absolutely quite mistaken about that. Your aunt took afancy to her on the first night because she spoke in rather an originalway and, I suppose, looked handsome, which she does occasionally; andyour aunt is very easily impressed by anything that she considers ratherfine. But I assure you that it is my private opinion that she is sickof Priscilla by this time, and also rather ashamed of her appearance.Priscilla has no tact whatever--simply none. When does she help youraunt? When does she do anything to oblige others? She just flops aboutand looks so _gauche_ and awkward."
"Well, poor thing! she can't help that. With Susan Martin as herdressmaker what chance has she?"
"She is just an oddity," said Annie; "and it is my impression that youraunt is tired of oddities. I can make her a little more tired, and Iwill."
"Oh Annie! Poor Priscie! and she does enjoy the mountain air so, and issuch a splendid climber. You might as well let her have her holidayout. You are so frightfully clever, Annie; you can always achieve yourpurpose. But I think, if I were you, I would let poor old Prisciealone."
"I would if there were no danger," said Annie.
"Danger--in her direction? What _do_ you mean?"
"There is very grave danger," said Annie--"very grave indeed. I am moreafraid about Priscie than about anything else in the whole of this mostunfortunate affair."
"Annie, what _do_ you mean?"
"She is troubled with a conscience, bless you! and that conscience istalking to her every day and every night. Why, my dear Mabel, you cansee the gnawings of self-reproach in her eyes and in her horridmelancholy manner. She is always in a dream, too, and starting up andhaving to shake herself when one talks to her suddenly. I know wellwhat it means; she is on the verge of a confession."
"What?" said Mabel.
"Yes, that is the danger we have to apprehend; at least it is one of thedangers. One day, for the sake of relieving her own miserableconscience, she will go to your aunt and tell her everything. Thenwhere shall we be?"
"But she could not be so frightfully mean; I never, never would believeit of her."
"Mark my words," said Annie--"people with consciences, who believe theyhave committed a crime or a sin, never think of anybody but themselves.The thought of relieving their own miserable natures is the only thoughtthat occurs to them. Now, we must get hold of that conscience ofPrisci
e's, and if it is going to be a stumbling-block we must cart herback to England."
"We must indeed," said Mabel. "For all that I say I don't believe thatshe could be so mean."
"Oh, nonsense," said Annie; "I know better." Mabel crouched on thefloor by Annie's side, her hand lying on Annie's lap.
"You are wonderful," she said after a pause, "quite wonderful. I can'timagine how you think of all these things, and of course you are neverwrong. Still--poor Priscie! you won't make things very hard for her,Annie, will you?"
"I know