andhas made life unendurable."

  "Thank you; thank you very much," said Mr Manchuri.

  Priscilla bowed her head. The old man started up and began to pace upand down the room. After a time he went up to the girl, just touchedher on her bowed head, and said very gently: "We will judge this thing,if you please, in the presence of my daughter Esther. Come with me nowto her room; you shall see her. The portrait of her is so good that youwill almost feel that you are looking at her living self." Priscillarose tremblingly. She was weak and exhausted in every limb, but itseemed to her that a powerful hand was drawing her forward, and that shehad very little will to resist. Mr Manchuri took the girl up to a roomon the first floor. It was a beautifully large room, but scantilyfurnished. He lit some candles that had been previously arranged infront of a large picture which stood on an easel. This picture had beenpainted by one of the great portrait-painters of thirty years ago. Itwas a most speaking likeness, and Priscilla, when first she saw it,started, turned very white, and clasped Mr Manchuri's hand.

  "Why, it is I!" she said; "it is I! I have seen myself like--like thatin the glass."

  Mr Manchuri drew a deep breath of relief.

  "Didn't I know it?" he said. "Didn't I say that you were like her? Andsee--she smiles at you.--You forgive Priscilla, don't you, Esther?Smile at her again, Esther, if you forgive her." The smile on the youngface of the girl who had so long been dead seemed to become morepronounced, more sweet, more radiant.

  "There," said Mr Manchuri, "Esther has judged just as God does, I takeit; and the thing is forgiven as only God forgives; but what you have todo, Priscilla Weir, is this. You have to put yourself right with yourschoolmistress, and in doing so you cannot, in any justice, shield yourschoolfellows. I am no fool, dear girl, and I know their names wellenough. One of them is that Miss Lushington whom I met at the HotelBelle Vue, and the other--the girl who arranged the plot and carried itthrough with such cleverness--is no less an individual than my little_quondam_ friend, Annie Brooke. You see, my dear, there is no genius inmy making this discovery, for I have heard them both talk of MrsLyttelton's school, and Miss Brooke often entertained me in the mostcharming way by giving me a minute description of Miss Lushington'stalents and how she won the great literature prize. Little, little didI then guess that I should be so much interested in you, my dear. Wewill leave Esther now. Come downstairs with me again."

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

  CONTRARY INFLUENCES.

  Annie's high spirits continued with her during all the somewhat hotjourney from Interlaken to Zermatt. She was, in truth, the life of theparty, and kept every one in the best possible humour. Her charm wasundoubted, and her apparent unselfishness made her invaluable. EvenParker acknowledged that there never was such an obliging young lady, orsuch a thoughtful one, as Miss Annie Brooke. Mabel could groan at theheat. Lady Lushington grumble and complain, even Parker herself couldgive way to insupportable headache, but nothing, nothing daunted theunflagging good-humour of Annie Brooke. Had she not the eau-de-Colognehandy for poor Parker's head? Could she not chat cheerfully to LadyLushington and make her laugh, and could she not insist on Mabel'shaving the seat where she was at once protected from too much draughtand yet not exposed to the full glare of the August sun?

  When they reached the hotel, too, it was Annie who chose, without amoment's hesitation, the one uncomfortable room of the little suitewhich was set apart for Lady Lushington's party.

  "Nothing matters for me," said Annie. "I have got unflagging health,and I am so happy," she said. "Every one is so kind to me."

  "You really are a dear little thing," said Lady Lushington when Annieherself entered that lady's room bearing a cup of tea which she had madefrom Lady Lushington's own private store, and which smelt so fragrantand looked so good. "Oh, my dear Annie," continued the good lady--"Ireally must call you by your Christian name--I never did find any onequite so pleasant before. Now if Mabel had not been such a goose as toget that literature prize, which I verily believe has swamped everyscrap of brain the poor girl ever possessed, I could have had you as mylittle companion for a year. How we should have enjoyed ourselves!"

  "Oh, indeed, how we should!" said Annie, a bitter sigh of regret fillingher heart, for what might she not have made of such a supremeopportunity? "But," she added quickly, "you would not have known methen, would you? You would never have known me but for Mabel."

  "It is one of the very luckiest things that could have happened to me--Mabel wishing that you might join us," said Lady Lushington. "You arethe comfort of my life; you are worth fifty Parkers and a hundredMabels. Yes, is the exact right angle for the pillow, my dear. Thankyou so much--thank you; that is delicious, and I think I will have abiscuit. What a glorious view we have of Monte Rosa from the window!"

  "Oh yes," said Annie, "isn't it lovely?"

  "By the way, Annie, you are quite sure that Mabel is taking care ofthose pearls of hers. We have to thank you too, you clever littlething, for discovering them. I am quite under the impression that Ihave come by a good bargain in that matter."

  "I am sure you have, dear Lady Lushington; and the pearls are quite,quite safe."

  "I knew you would see to it, dear; you are so thoughtful abouteverything. By the way, I have already seen on the visitors' list thename of a certain Mrs Ogilvie. If she is my friend I should like toshow her the necklace."

  Annie felt her heart nearly stop for a minute. "Of course you must showit," was her gentle response; "and I will see that dear Mabel takes careof the precious things."

  "Well, you can go now, darling; you have made me feel so nice, and thisroom is delicious. Really, the journey was trying. It is horribletravelling in this intense heat, but we shall do beautifully here."

  Annie tripped out of the room and went straight to Mabel's. Mabel'sroom was not nearly as good as the one which Lady Lushington occupied,but still it was a very nice room, with two large windows which openedin French fashion and had deep balconies where one could stand and lookinto the very heart of the everlasting hills. Parker's room was justbeyond Mabel's, and Annie's was at the back. It was arranged thatParker should be within easy reach of her mistress and her young lady,and self-forgetful Annie therefore selected the back-room. She had noview at all; but then, what did views matter to Annie, who was blind toall their beauty? Mabel was alone. She felt very hot and dusty afterher journey, and had just slipped into a cool, white dressing-gown.

  "Let me take down your hair, dear May," said Annie, "and if you sit inthat deep arm-chair I will brush it for you. Isn't it nice here, May?"

  "Yes," replied Mabel, "I suppose it is; only you have a horrid smallroom, Annie."

  "I don't care a bit about that," said Annie. "I am not going to be muchin it except to sleep, and when one is asleep any room suffices. But,May, I want to talk to you."

  "What about?" said May. "Anything fresh?" Annie carefully shut thedoor which communicated between Mabel's room and Parker's.

  "It is this," said Annie; "Your aunt Henrietta has been talking to meabout the pearl necklace, and says she hopes you have it safe."

  "Well, yes," said Mabel, with a yawn; "it is quite absolutely safe,isn't it, Annie?"

  "Yes; but this is the crux: I thought she would have forgotten all aboutit, but she evidently hasn't, and she says she thinks a friend of hers--a Mrs Ogilvie--is staying in the hotel, and if so, she would like toshow it to her."

  "Oh, good gracious!" said Mabel, springing to her feet, and knocking thebrush out of Annie's hand in her excitement; "and if such a thinghappens--and it is more than likely--what is to become of us?"

  "If such a thing happens," said Annie with extreme coolness, "there isonly one thing to be done."

  "Oh Annie, what--what?"

  "We must pretend that we have lost it. So many people are robbednowadays; we must be robbed also: that is all Parker is supposed to havecharge of it; you must confess that you never gave it to Parker, but putit into the lid of your trunk.
You must lose one or two other things aswell. You must have your story ready in case Mrs Ogilvie is in thehotel."

  "Oh! I don't think I can stand any more of this," said poor Mabel."You seem to lead me on, Annie, from one wickedness to another. I don'tknow where it is to end."

  "You must obey me in this," said Annie with great determination.

  "Oh, we are both lost!"

  "We are nearly out of the wood; we are not going to lose our courage atthe supreme moment. Come now, Mabel,