“I cannot tell you, for it would betray her.”
“Have you spoken to your uncle on the subject?”
“Yes.”
“And what did he say?”
“Well,” said Annie eagerly, “it was this way. My other great friend is a certain Mabel Lushington. She is staying with her aunt Lady Lushington; and Lady Lushington most kindly sent me an invitation to join them both on Tuesday evening. They are going to take me to Switzerland and pay all my expenses, and of course I shall have a jolly time.”
“But would that help your friend, the prospective dressmaker?”
“Yes. It may sound very puzzling; but if I were to join Mabel Lushington, it would put things all right for my friend.”
“It is puzzling, of course, for me to understand, Annie; but I must take you at your word and suppose that it is so.”
“Indeed it is, John; indeed it is. And I am, oh, so unhappy about it!”
The blue eyes filled with tears. They looked very pretty as they brimmed over and the tears rolled down the smooth young cheeks. Annie could cry just a little without her appearance being at all spoiled thereby. On the contrary, a few tears added to a certain pathos which came at such times into her face. John Saxon found himself looking at the tears and accepting Annie’s view of the matter as quite plausible.