“Oh,” said Annie—“oh”—Mabel longed to kick Annie’s foot, but could not manage to reach it. Annie plunged desperately into hot water. “Oh,” she added, “Priscilla—oh, Priscilla is so ridiculous; she has lost this delicious dinner and—and—rejected your kindness in giving her such dainty garments. I do pity her so much, and am so sorry that your great kindness should be thrown away.”
“Then, pray,” said Lady Lushington, “keep your pity for me entirely to yourself, for I can assure you, Miss Brooke, that I do not need it. As to Miss Weir, she may or may not be a fool—I do not know her well enough to be able to give an opinion on that point—but she is at least a thorough lady.”
Annie gazed, with her coral lips slightly open.
“A thorough lady,” continued Lady Lushington, glancing with cruel eyes at the white muslin and lace frock which adorned Annie’s little person.
“Then you are not angry with her?” said Annie. “I thought, after your kindness— But of course she is going in the morning, isn’t she?”
“Miss Weir accompanies us to Interlaken,” said Lady Lushington, rising. “That is settled; and she wears her own dress, as an honest girl should. She may look peculiar; doubtless she will; but she is unaffected and has a noble way about her. Now let us change the subject—Girls, would you like to come out into the court for a few minutes to listen to the band, or are you, Miss Brooke, too tired, and would you prefer to go to bed?”
“I think I will go to bed, please,” said Annie in a small, meek, crushed sort of voice.
“Very well,” said Lady Lushington; “you are quite wise.—Mabel, take your friend to the lift and give her over to Parker’s care.—Goodnight, Miss Brooke. Remember we start very early in the morning, but Parker will wake you and bring you your coffee.”
When, ten minutes later, Mabel joined her aunt Henrietta in the court of the famous hotel, Lady Lushington turned to her.
“May I ask,” she remarked, “what earthly reason induced you to ask a commonplace person like Miss Brooke to join our expedition?”