“I don’t want to be unpleasant,” she said, “but I certainly should like a room to myself.”
“Of course, my dear,” said Lady Lushington.
“Dear, dear! I must consult with Parker. There’s a room for me, a room for Mabel, a room each for you two girls—that makes four; and Parker’s room, five. You two girls would not by any chance mind sleeping in another hotel, would you?”
Here she looked first at Annie and then at Priscilla.
“Certainly not,” said Annie. “I do not mind anything.”
Priscilla was quite silent. Just then one of the waiters appeared with a telegram. It was to Lady Lushington. She opened it. There were only four bedrooms available at the “Beau Séjour.”
Annie spoke impulsively. “I tell you what,” she said. “I won’t be in the way; I won’t. I will go back to England to-night. I can go with Mr Manchuri, that funny old Jew gentleman whom I have been so friendly with. I know he will let me travel with him. It is just too bad, Lady Lushington; you must let me. I have been, oh! so happy, and it will be a cruel disappointment to go; but I will. Yes, I will go.”
“Seeing that your uncle is ill, perhaps—” began Lady Lushington.
“Oh, please don’t think that it is on account of that. Uncle Maurice constantly has these attacks. He is probably as well as ever by now; but it is just because I won’t crowd you up.”
“But, Annie,” said Mabel in a troubled voice, “you know I can’t live without you.”