“I don’t appreciate that sort of thing,” she said to herself. “It is, somehow, beneath me. I don’t understand it.”
She made up her mind on the spot, that, as far as Mabel was concerned, the friendship between the two girls was to terminate there and then. Never would she have anything farther to do with Annie Brooke. As that was the case, she did not consider it necessary to correct her.
“I am sorry,” she said briefly, “that you did not interpret very plain English in the manner in which it was intended. I don’t think for a single moment that your cousin meant to complain of you to me, but he simply quoted some words of his letter, and seemed altogether astonished that you did not start for England the day before yesterday. However, I trust you will find your dear uncle alive when you get home. I have desired Parker to pack your things, and now you would doubtless like to go up and change your dress.”
“Thank you,” said Annie very meekly. She glanced in Mrs Ogilvie’s direction; but Mrs Ogilvie took no notice of her.
“Mabel, come and sit here near Mrs Ogilvie,” said Lady Lushington as Annie once again disappeared. “You can say good-bye to your friend presently; there is no necessity for you to spend the whole evening upstairs.”
Chapter Twenty Four.
Home No More.
It was all over—the fun, the gaiety, the good things of life, the delights of fine living, the charm of being with rich friends. It is true that Annie Brooke returned to England with a little private fund of her own in her pocket; but John Saxon insisted on her returning him the two five-pound notes he had enclosed to her. Out of these he paid for her ticket back to England.