by L. T. Meade
down in a chair, and her face became quite white.
"This is what you must do," continued Annie. "Mrs Priestley lends moneyto several ladies. I happen to know, for a maid Uncle Maurice had inhis house last summer told me so. Mrs Priestley has made your dressesever since you came to school; and your aunt pays the bills, doesn'tshe, without worrying you much?"
"Yes."
"And no one dresses so beautifully as you do in the whole school,Mabel."
"Oh, well," said Mabel, "it isn't necessary for me to be careful--thatis just it."
"You will come to Mrs Priestley to-morrow, and I will go with you; or,if you like best, I will go alone and take a note from you to her. Youhave but to ask her to lend you thirty pounds, and to put it down in thebill, and there you are. She will have to lend it to you in notes andgold--of course a cheque would never do--and then you can give Pris themoney for her next term's schooling, and Mrs Lyttelton will accept it asa matter of course, and your aunt Henrietta will never know, for, at theworst, she will only scold you for being especially extravagant."
"Yes--but--but," said Mabel. Her cheeks were crimson and her eyesbright, and there was no doubt whatever that the temptation presented bycunning Annie was taking hold of her. "That is all very fine. But evenif I dared to do the thing, the difficulties of keeping Priscie at theschool might be got over for one term; but what about the two otherterms? I can't go on borrowing money from Mrs Priestley, moreespecially if I am not at the school myself."
"As your aunt is so very rich, and as she will be taking you intosociety, it will be quite possible for you to spare thirty pounds eachterm out of your own allowance," said Annie. "But even if you don'twish to do that, I have no doubt at all that Lady Lushington is verygenerous, and that she will lend you the money for poor Priscie, if youonly talk to her judiciously."
"She might and she might not," said Mabel; "there is no saying. And asto an allowance, she may not give me any, but just buy my thingsstraight off as I want them. Oh dear, dear! I don't see my way withregard to the other terms, even if I could borrow the money for thisone."
"You will see your way when the time comes; and, remember, you will havefrom now till Christmas to think of ways and means. In the meantime youwill go to Paris, and from Paris to the different foreign spas, and, oh,won't you have a jolly time, and won't you be admired!"
"It certainly sounds tempting," said Mabel, "although it seems to methat it is awfully wicked--"
"As to its being so wicked," interrupted Annie, "I can't quite see that.Think what good it will do--helping poor old Pris, and giving yourselfa right jolly time, and me also."
"I can't see where you come in," said Mabel.
"Oh, but I do. You don't suppose I am going to leave myself out in thecold, when I am managing so cleverly all these jolly things for you.You have got to get your aunt to invite me to join you in Paris. Shewill, I know, if you manage her properly. What fun we shall havetogether, May! How we shall enjoy ourselves! Of course I'll have tocome back here at the end of the holidays; but the summer holidays arelong, and, oh! I shall be a happy girl."
"You might certainly, if you came to visit me, think out a plan forpaying Priscie's school fees for the other terms," said Mabel. "But,dear, dear! it is awfully dangerous. I don't know how I can consent.If the whole thing were ever found out I should be disgraced for life!"
"If," said Annie. "If is a very little word and means a great deal,May. These things won't be found out, for the simple reason that it isto your interest, and to my interest, and to Priscie's interest to keepthe whole matter in the dark."
CHAPTER FOUR.
"I DON'T WANT TO DO WRONG."
When Annie had ended her conference with Mabel Lushington--a conferencewhich left that young lady in a state of intense and even nervousexcitement, in which she kept on repeating, "I won't; I daren't. Oh!but I long to. Oh! but I just wish I could," until Annie felt inclinedto beat her--she went away at last with the quiet assurance of a girlwho had won a victory.
Her scheme was ripening to perfection. Mabel, of course, would yield;the money would be forthcoming. Priscilla would stay at the school, andAnnie would have her hour of triumph.
It was half-an-hour before bed-time on that same evening when clever andwicked Annie had a further conference with Priscilla. She found poorPriscilla looking very pale and woe-begone, seated all by herself at oneend of the long schoolroom.
"Come out," said Annie; "it is a perfectly lovely evening, and we neednot go up to our horrid beds for another half-hour."
"You want to tempt me again," said Priscilla, "I won't go with you."
"You needn't," said Annie with emphasis. "I have only this to say.Your prize paper is finished?"
"Yes."
"I will come to your room for it very, very early to-morrow morning."
"You know, Annie, you daren't come to my room."
"I dare, and will," said Annie. "I will be with you at five o'clock,before any of the servants are up. At that hour we will safely transacta very important little piece of business."
"You mean," said Priscilla, raising her haggard face and looking withher dark-grey eyes full at the girl, "that you want me to go down forever in my own estimation, and to proclaim to my good teachers, to dearMrs Lyttelton, and to all the girls here that I am not myself at all.You want me to read an essay written by one of the stupidest girls inthe school as my own, and you want her to read mine--which may probablybe the best of those written--and you want her to win the prize whichought to be mine."
"Yes, I do want her to win the prize," said Annie, "and for that reasonI want her to read your essay as though it were her own."
"You forget one thing," said Priscilla. "Mabel writes so atrociouslythat no one will believe for a single moment that my paper _could_ beher work; and, on the other hand, people will be as little likely to godown in their high estimation of my talent as to suppose that I haveseriously written the twaddle which she will give me. You see yourself,Annie, the danger of your scheme. It is unworkable; our teachers areall a great deal too clever to be taken in by it. It cannot possibly becarried out."
"It can, and will," said Annie. "I have thought of all that, and ampreparing the way. In the first place, the paper you will read will beby no means bad. It will be the sort of paper that will pass muster,and long before prize day there will be an undercurrent of belief in theschool that Mabel is by no means the dunce she is credited to be."
"What do you mean by that?"
"You had best not know, Priscilla. The main thing for you to consideris this: You do not go to your horrid uncle Josiah. You spend yoursummer holidays with him, I know; but you return here afterwards. Youhave another happy year at Lyttelton School, and at the end of that timeyou win a splendid scholarship for Newnham or Girton, and go toCambridge for three happy years. Think of it, Priscilla; and you can doit so easily. Do think of it, darling Pris. You are either a householddrudge or a country dressmaker if you don't do this thing; and if youdo--and it's really such a _very_ little thing--you may be anything youlike."
Priscilla sat very still while Annie was talking to her, but in each ofher cheeks there rose a brilliant spot of colour. It spread and spreaduntil the whole young face looked transformed, the eyes brighter anddarker than before, the lips quivering with suppressed excitement. Thegirl's figure became suddenly tense. She stood up; she caught Annie'shands between her own.
"Oh, how you tempt me!" she said. "_How_ you tempt me! I did not knowI could be so wicked as to listen to you; but I am tempted--tempted!"
"Of course you are, darling. Who would not be who was in your shoes?Isn't it the law of life to do the very best for one's self?"
"Oh, but it isn't the right law!" gasped poor Priscilla.
"Well, right or wrong," answered Annie, "it is the wisest law."
"But even--even if I did it," said Priscilla, "how is the money to begot?"
"You leave that to us," said Annie. "Your term's fees will be
paid, andthere will be something over. Leave all that to us."
"Go away now," said Priscilla; "don't talk to me any more at all; I musthave time to think. Oh! I don't want to do wrong. I must pray to Godto help me not to yield to you."
"You will not do that," said Annie, "for your own heart, and everyargument in your mind, are inclining you in the other direction. Ileave you now, for I feel certain of you; but Mabel and I will visit