“We are nearly out of the wood; we are not going to lose our courage at the supreme moment. Come now, Mabel, don’t be absolutely silly; nothing may happen. But if anything happens, you must be prepared to do what I tell you.”
“You have an extraordinary power over me,” said Mabel. “I often and often wish that I had not yielded to you at that time when Aunt Henrietta wrote me that letter and I was so cross and disappointed. I think now that if you had not been present I should be a happier girl on the whole. I should be going back to the horrid school, of course, and Priscie would have left; but still—”
“Come, come,” said Annie, sitting down determinedly on a low chair by her friend’s side. “What is the matter with you? I really have to go over old ground until things are quite disagreeable. What have you not won through me? A whole year’s emancipation, a jolly, delightful winter, 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 Cairo for the cold weather. Of course you will go with her. Think of the dresses unlimited, and the balls and the fun, and the expeditions up the Nile. Oh, you lucky, you more than lucky Mabel! And then home again in the early spring, and preparations for your great début taking place, your presentation dress being ordered, and all the rest. Imagine this state of things instead of pursuing the life which your poor faithful little Annie will lead at Mrs Lyttelton’s school! And yet you blame me because 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 most fascinating; but if you are not happy deep down in your heart, where’s the use?”
When Mabel said this Annie looked really alarmed.
“But you are quite happy,” she said. “You are not going to follow that idiotic Priscie. You are not going to get a horrible, troublesome conscience to wake itself up and torment you over this most innocent little affair.”
“I will go through it, of course,” said Mabel. “It seemed very bad at the beginning, but the amount of badness it has risen to now shocks even me. Still, I will go through that, for I cannot go back. As to Priscie, I am convinced she would rather be apprenticed as a dressmaker than 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 a little bitterly, “she took advantage of my talent as much as you did, Mabel.”
Mabel sighed, groaned, struggled, but eventually yielded absolutely to Annie’s stronger will, and it was definitely arranged between the two girls that Mabel was to be fully prepared to declare the loss of her necklace 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 aunt Henrietta pretty well by this time, and she will have other things to occupy her mind. We can soon find out if the good woman is there through Parker.”