“It is very awkward indeed,” said Lady Lushington—“very awkward. The fact is, I can’t very well spare you; you are of great use to me.”
Priscilla rose from the table. She had scarcely touched anything during the meal.
“I think I know what Annie Brooke means,” she said. “She means that one of us two girls is to offer to go back, and she naturally does not intend to go herself.”
“But I offered to go. How cruel you are!” said Annie. “I will go, too,” she added, pouting and looking at once pretty and petulant. “Yes, Lady Lushington, I will go.—Mabel, I can’t help it. You are my very dearest ownest friend; but I won’t crowd you up. You will have Priscie.”
“No,” said Priscilla mournfully; “I am no use. I don’t think at present I love people, and I can’t talk much, and I can’t wear”—she hesitated—“the dresses that other people wear. I will go. I have had a beautiful time, and I have seen the mountains. It is something to have had even a glimpse of the higher Alps; they are like nothing else. A little disappointment is nothing when one has had such great joy. I will go to-night if Mr Manchuri will let me accompany him.”
“It does seem reasonable, Miss Weir,” said Lady Lushington. “We can’t stay on here, for our rooms are let, and I won’t go anywhere at Zermatt except to the ‘Beau Séjour.’ As to one of you girls sleeping out it cannot be thought of, although I did propose that two of you might—that is, together; but there seem to be difficulties. You have not been very happy with us, have you, Miss Weir?”
“You have been the cause of great happiness to me, and I thank you from my heart,” said Priscilla.
“Well, my dear, I will of course pay your fare back. I hope we may meet again some day. Then that is settled.—Annie, please go at once and wire that we will engage the four rooms, and—who will see Mr Manchuri and arrange with him to let Priscilla accompany him to England?”
“I will do both,” said Annie.
She hastily left the salle-à-manger and ran through the great lounge with a sort of skipping movement, so light were her steps, and so light and jubilant her heart. The old Jew did not make any demur when he was told that the tall, slender young lady was to accompany him home.