Three Girls from School
don't be absolutely silly; nothingmay happen. But if anything happens, you must be prepared to do what Itell you."
"You have an extraordinary power over me," said Mabel. "I often andoften wish that I had not yielded to you at that time when AuntHenrietta wrote me that letter and I was so cross and disappointed. Ithink now that if you had not been present I should be a happier girl onthe whole. I should be going back to the horrid school, of course, andPriscie would have left; but still--"
"Come, come," said Annie, sitting down determinedly on a low chair byher friend's side. "What _is_ the matter with you? I really have to goover old ground until things are quite disagreeable. What have you notwon through me? A whole year's emancipation, a jolly, delightfulwinter, a pleasant autumn at the Italian lakes and in Rome and Florence.I think, from what she tells me, Lady Lushington means to go to Cairofor the cold weather. Of course you will go with her. Think of thedresses unlimited, and the balls and the fun, and the expeditions up theNile. Oh, you lucky, you more than lucky Mabel! And then home again inthe early spring, and preparations for your great _debut_ taking place,your presentation dress being ordered, and all the rest. Imagine thisstate of things instead of pursuing the life which your poor faithfullittle Annie will lead at Mrs Lyttelton's school! And yet you blame mebecause you have to pay a certain price for these enjoyments."
"I do blame you, Annie; I can't help it. I know it all sounds mostfascinating; but if you are not happy deep down in your heart, where'sthe use?"
When Mabel said this Annie looked really alarmed.
"But you are quite happy," she said. "You are not going to follow thatidiotic Priscie. You are not going to get a horrible, troublesomeconscience to wake itself up and torment you over this most innocentlittle affair."
"I will go through it, of course," said Mabel. "It seemed very bad atthe beginning, but the amount of badness it has risen to now shocks evenme. Still, I will go through that, for I cannot go back. As toPriscie, I am convinced she would rather be apprenticed as a dressmakerthan live as she is doing with that load on her conscience."
"Oh, bother Priscie!" cried Annie. "She is one of those intolerable,conscientious girls whom one cannot abide. All the same," she added alittle bitterly, "she took advantage of my talent as much as you did,Mabel."
Mabel sighed, groaned, struggled, but eventually yielded absolutely toAnnie's stronger will, and it was definitely arranged between the twogirls that Mabel was to be fully prepared to declare the loss of hernecklace if Mrs Ogilvie was proved to be in the hotel.
"If she is not it will be all right," said Annie; "for I know your auntHenrietta pretty well by this time, and she will have other things tooccupy her mind. We can soon find out if the good woman is therethrough Parker."
"I don't think I would consult Parker if I were you," said Mabel. "Shetalks a great deal to Aunt Henrietta, and of late, somehow, I haverather imagined that she is a little suspicious." Annie soon afterwardsretired to her own room, but not like Mabel and Lady Lushington, torest. Those who follow crooked ways have seldom time for rest, andAnnie Brooke was finding this out to her cost. She was reallyexceedingly tired; even her strength could scarcely stand the strain ofthe last few weeks. Priscilla's misery, Mabel's recklessness, LadyLushington's anger with regard to Mrs Priestley's bill, the terriblepossibility of being found out--all these things visited the girl,making her not sorry for her sin, but afraid of the consequences. Then,too, in spite of herself, she was a little anxious with regard to UncleMaurice. There was always a possibility--just a possibility--that UncleMaurice might be as bad as that tiresome John Saxon had declared him tobe; and if so, was she (Annie) kind about it all? A great many thingshad happened, and Annie had sinned very deeply. Oh, well, she was notgoing to get her conscience into speaking order; that mentor within mustbe kept silent at any cost.
Still, she was too restless to lie down on her bed, which, indeed, wasnot specially inviting, for the room was a most minute one, and lookedout on a wall of the hotel, which, as with most great foreign hotels,surrounded a court. Not a peep of any glorious view could be seen fromAnnie's window, and the hot western sun poured into the little room,making it stiflingly hot; and she could even smell the making of manydishes from the kitchens, which lay just beneath her windows.
So she changed her dress, made herself look as neat and fresh aspossible, and ran downstairs into the great, cool hall.
It was delicious in the hall. The doors were wide-open, the windowsalso stood apart, and in every direction were to be seen peeps ofsnow-clad mountains soaring up far into the clouds. Even Annie wastouched for a minute by the glorious view. She went and stood in thecool doorway, and was glad of the refreshing breeze which fanned her hotcheeks.
Business, however, must ever be foremost. She was pining for a cup oftea, but it was one of Lady Lushington's economies never to allow extrathings to be ordered at the hotel. She had tea made for herself and herparty in her room every day, and therefore kept strictly to the_pension_ terms. Annie, however, suddenly remembered that she herselfwas the proud possessor of eighty pounds. Surely so wealthy a younglady need not suffer from thirst. She accordingly called a waiter anddesired him to bring her _the complet_. This he proceeded to do,suggesting at the same time that the young lady should have her tea onthe terrace.
The broad terrace was covered by an enormous veranda, and Annie found iteven more enjoyable outside than in. She liked the importance of takingher tea alone, and was particularly gratified when several nice-lookingpeople turned to look at her. She was certainly an attractive girl, andwhen her cheeks became flushed she was almost pretty. The waiter cameup and asked her for the number of her room. She gave it; and heimmediately remarked:
"I beg your pardon, madam; I did not remember that you belonged to LadyLushington's party."
"Yes; but I wish to pay for this tea myself," said Annie, and sheproduced, with considerable pride, a five-pound note.
The man withdrew at once to fetch the necessary change. As he did thisa party of travellers who had evidently only just arrived turned to lookat Annie. There was nothing very special about her action; neverthelessthe little incident remained fixed in their memories. They had heardthe waiter say, "You belong to Lady Lushington's party." The note ofwonder was struck in their minds that a girl of Annie's age and in thecare of other people should pay for her own tea. Annie, however,collected her change with great care, counting it shrewdly over andputting it into her purse.
She then re-entered the lounge. When she did so the lady who was seatednear her turned to her husband and said:
"Is it possible that Lady Lushington is here?"
"It seems so," said the gentleman; "but we can soon ascertain, my dear,by looking at the visitors' list."
"I shall be exceedingly pleased if she is," said Mrs Ogilvie, for it wasshe. "I have not seen Henrietta Lushington for two or three years. Sheused to be a great friend of mine. But what in the world is she doingwith that girl?"
"Why should not Henrietta Lushington have a girl belonging to herparty?" was Mr Ogilvie's response. "There is nothing the matter withthat fact, is there, Susan?"
"Oh, nothing; and I know she has a niece, but somehow I never thoughtthat the niece would look like that girl."
"Why, what in the world is the matter with her? I thought her quitepretty."
"Oh, my dear Henry! Pretty perhaps, but not classy; not for a momentthe style of girl that Lady Lushington's niece would be expected to be.And then her paying for her own tea--it seemed to me slightly bad form.However, perhaps the girl does not belong to our Lady Lushington atall."
Meanwhile Annie was doing a little business on her own account in thegreat hall. She had got possession of the visitors' book, and wasscanning the names of the visitors with intense interest. Nowhere didshe see the name Ogilvie, and in consequence a great load was liftedfrom her heart. She ran up in high spirits to Mabel's room.
"No fear, May; no fear," she said, skipping about as
she spoke. "MrsOgilvie is not here at all; I have looked through the list."
"Well, that's a comfort," said Mabel, who was lying on her bedhalf-asleep before Annie came in. "But what a restless spirit you are,Annie! Can you ever keep still for a minute? I was certain you wereasleep in your room."
"You could not sleep much yourself in my room, darling. It is a littlehot and a little--dinnery. Not that I complain; but there is amagnificent hall downstairs, and such a terrace! And, do you know, Ireceived a wee present of money a couple of mornings ago from darlingUncle Maurice, so I treated myself to some tea. I _was_ thirsty. I hadit all alone on a little table on the