I must have at least a weekto get round Aunt Henrietta."
"Oh, I will give you a week, my dear; for I also must have that week toget round Uncle Maurice. Now then, all is right. Give me a kiss, dear;we shall have fun! You will never regret this night, I can tell you,Mabel."
"I hope I sha'n't. I do feel mean and small at present. But what aboutthe note to Mrs Priestley? What am I to say?"
"Dear, dear," said Annie, who was now in the highest spirits, "what itis to have brains! Come and sit in this corner, over here. Now I willlight the candle for you; no one can see any light under the door. Herewe are: and here's our little candle doing its duty."
As Annie spoke she swiftly struck a match.
"Here is your sheet of paper, Mabel; and here is your pen. And now Iwill dictate the note. Write what I say."
Mabel began:
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"`Dear Mrs Priestley,--My friend Annie Brooke is taking this letter toyou. The business is of great importance, and she will explain and makethe necessary terms. I want you to lend me thirty pounds, please.Annie will arrange the terms; and I want you, please, not to tellanybody. You know Annie Brooke--she is my greatest friend. AuntHenrietta will want me to have a specially beautiful dress to wear atthe break-up, for I expect to take a most distinguished positionthere.'"
"Oh, must I put that in?" said Mabel.
"You must put what I tell you," answered Annie. "Go on. Have youwritten `distinguished position'?"
"Yes--oh yes. This letter sounds perfectly horrid, and not a bit likeme."
"It will soon be finished now," said Annie.
"Come, Mabel; you _are_ chicken-hearted. You most pay something foryour thirty pounds, you know."
"Yes; but how on earth am I to return it to her?"
"I'll manage that, goosey, goosey. Now then, proceed.
"`I will call on you to-morrow in order to choose the dress. It must bevery rich indeed, and with real lace on it. My aunt would wish me tolook well dressed on the prize day.--Yours, Mabel Lushington.'
"Now, the date, please," said Annie.
Mabel inserted it.
"Fold it up, please, and direct this envelope," continued practicalAnnie. This was done and the letter slipped into Annie's pocket. Shethen, to Mabel's surprise, put another sheet of paper before that younglady.
"What does this mean?" said Mabel.
"You will write these words, please, Mabel:
"In acknowledgment of thirty pounds, I, Mabel Lushington, faithfullypromise to invite Annie Brooke to spend the summer holidays with LadyLushington and myself in Paris."
"But, Annie," cried poor Mabel, "I am terrified at having to writethis."
"Don't write it, and the thing is off," said Annie.
She moved to the other end of the room. Mabel sat the very picture ofmisery by the little table where the one candle burned. Some minuteswent by. After a time Annie said:
"You may as well go on, for I hold your letter to Mrs Priestley in mypocket."
"Oh, oh!" said Mabel, "I get more frightened of you, Annie, each moment.Well, what am I to say? I forget."
"Darling, it is so easy," said Annie in her gentlest tone. "Now then, Iwill dictate once more."
She did so. The words were put down. Annie herself folded up thisprecious piece of paper, and put it for safety into the bosom of herdress.
"Now we are all right," she said; "and I've got some chocolates to giveyou, and we can both curl up on the sofa and go to sleep until it's timeto wake Pris."
Mabel and Annie were about to retire to the comfortable old lounge whichoccupied a place of honour in the sitting-room, when they were at oncefrightened and rejoiced by hearing a voice say very distinctly outsidethe schoolroom door:
"It is I--Priscie. Let me in."
Annie immediately flew to the door, drew back the bolt, and admittedPriscilla. Priscilla was wearing a long, ugly, grey dressing-gown; herface looked nearly as grey. She came swiftly forward and put hermanuscript on the table.
"Sign it," she said to Mabel. "Be quick. Don't hesitate, or I willdraw back. I have lived through the most awful night; but there's nouse in waiting until five o'clock. I was up, and saw you two run acrossthe lawn. I guessed you would come here, and I made up my mind. Bequick, Mabel Lushington--sign."
"Here is your pen," said Annie.--"Pris, you are a plucky girl. You'llnever repent of this."
"You promise," said Priscilla, "to pay me a year's schooling?" She didnot glance at Annie; her eyes were fixed on Mabel.
"Yes," said Mabel, nodding to her and speaking with difficulty.
"You will get your money to-morrow evening, dear, at latest," saidAnnie; "I mean the money for the autumn term."
Still Priscilla did not look at Annie.
"Where is your paper?" she asked, her eyes still glued on Mabel's face.
Annie supplied it.
"It is a very good paper," she said. "You won't be at all ashamed toread it. I only trust," she added, "that it is not too good."
One very bitter smile crossed Priscilla's face for a moment. Then,going on her knees, she deliberately wrote with a defiant air her ownsignature at the foot of the essay which Annie had dictated and Mabelhad written. Mabel's weaker handwriting signed Priscilla's paper. ThenPriscilla, gathering up the false essay, folded it within herdressing-gown, and, without glancing at either girl, left the room.
"There," said Annie when the door had closed behind her, "isn't she justsplendid? Haven't we managed well? Oh! I am tired and sleepy. Aren'tyou, Mabel?"
"I don't know," said Mabel. "I am bewildered. I never knew what it wasbefore to feel just awfully wicked."
"You will get over that, dear. We'll just wait a minute longer, andthen we'll creep up to our rooms. What a good thing it was that I oiledthe locks! There is no fear of any one finding us out."
CHAPTER SIX.
MRS PRIESTLEY.
The town of Hendon was only a mile away from the school, and the girlsconstantly rode there on their bicycles. They were never allowed to gowithout a teacher accompanying them. Quite a favourite exercise was toride through the little town and out into the country at the other end.
Mrs Priestley was one of the most fashionable dressmakers at Hendon, andhad the custom of most of the best girls of the school. Those, however,who were a little poor or short of funds employed a certain Mrs Arnold,who was also fairly good, but did not produce nearly such stylish gownsas those which issued from the Priestley establishment.
When Annie, in her pretty way--for her manners could be exceedinglypretty when she chose--asked Mrs Lyttelton for permission to go to MrsPriestley on the afternoon of the following day, that lady neitherexpressed nor felt surprise.
"You can certainly do so, my dear," she said; "only don't stay long.And why is not Mabel Lushington going herself? I did not know, Annie,that you had your dresses made by Mrs Priestley."
"I don't as a rule," replied Annie in her sweet little, gentle voice."My uncle can't afford it. But on this special occasion--oh, it is agreat secret, Mrs Lyttelton!--Uncle Maurice will let me have a veryplain white muslin made by Mrs Priestley. You know it isn't thematerial that counts so much; it is the way a dress is cut and made up.Mrs Priestley has such exquisite style."
"That is certainly the case," said Mrs Lyttelton. "Then you are goingthere about your dress?"
"I am; but, please, you won't betray me?"
"Betray you, dear Annie? What do you mean?"
"I don't want the girls to know that I am to wear a Priestley dressuntil the great day. It is just my own little secret. You won'tbreathe it, dear Mrs Lyttelton?"
"Certainly not, my child. I am glad that such a small thing gives youpleasure. And it is quite natural," she added, "that a young girlshould wish to be well dressed. But don't think too much of it, Annie.Our dresses are by no means the most important things in life."
"I could not live with you,"
said Annie, "without being well aware ofthat."
There came a pretty colour into her cheeks, which always made her lookvery nearly beautiful; and her eyes lost that expression which made somepeople who were not her greatest friends consider Annie Brooke just atiny bit "not straight, you know."
Annie now rushed off in a tumult of happiness. It was wonderful howeasily her plans were being brought to perfection. She rode into Hendonon her nice free-wheel bicycle, accompanied by two or three other girlsand also by a teacher.