by L. T. Meade
youto-morrow morning at five o'clock."
"You can't come in, for the door will be locked."
"You know," said Annie, staggered for a moment, "that it is against therules for any girl to lock her door at night."
"It will be a much lesser transgression on my part to lock my room doorthan to allow you and Mabel in," answered Priscilla.
"Well, we will come on the chance," replied Annie. "Ta-ta for a time,Pris. Oh, what a jolly year you will have, and how hard you will work!How I shall rejoice to see it!--for, whatever you must think of me, I atleast am not selfish. I lose my dear friend Mabel by this scheme, and Ikeep you, who have never yet been my very special friend; but you willbe when we return together to Lyttelton School next autumn. Good-bye,till to-morrow morning."
Annie tripped from the room.
CHAPTER FIVE.
ANNIE'S SCHEME.
There are at all schools girls of different degrees of talent. Thereare the brilliant girls, the idle girls, the plodding girls. Now Anniebelonged to the middle class. She knew how essential it was for her towork hard unless she were to accept a fate which she considered toohorrible to contemplate--namely, that of companion to kind Uncle Mauricein the country rectory. Her hope was to do so well at school that shemight, when she left, induce her uncle to send her for at least a yearto Paris in order to put what might be called the final polish on hereducation. Then, if her present plans went well, she might go intosociety with the aid of Mabel Lushington, who of course would be fromhenceforth in her power.
Now Annie had a fairly good gift for writing, and this gift on thepresent occasion she put absolutely at the disposal of her friend. PoorMabel, excited by the scheme which Annie had proposed, trembling withfear that it might be found out, could not have written a single line ofcoherent English were it not for Annie's clearer and cleverer brain.
As they sat for hours together in the summer-house, Annie's thoughtsreally filled Mabel's manuscript.
"I will dictate to you, and you will put down exactly what I say,"remarked Annie. "Now then, fire away. Idealism. You must get a sortof epitome of what your thoughts are on the subject."
"I have not any," said Mabel. "I can't give an epitome of what I knownothing about."
"Oh, come, Mabel; you are a goose! Here, let me dictate."
She began. Her sentences had little depth in them, but they were atleast expressed in fairly good English, and would have passed muster ina crowd. After a long time the task was completed, and an essay wasproduced--an essay, compared to the one which poor Mabel had alreadywritten, almost fine in its construction. Annie, as she read it over,was in raptures with it.
"I only trust it is not too good," she said. "Don't you think it soundsvery nice when I read it aloud, Mabel?"
"I suppose it does," answered Mabel. "I have got a horrid headache; Ihate sitting up all night."
"You will have to sacrifice something to your year's bliss," repliedAnnie. "Now then, May, that is done. I have given you a paper. Atfive o'clock we will both go into Priscie's room. When there, a littletransaction will very briefly take place. You will have to promise Pristhat you will pay her school fees for another year--namely, for threewhole terms; and she, in return for this kindness, will sign this essayas her own, and will hand it in as her essay during the course of themorning. Miss Phillips will lock it up, and it will lie _perdu_ untilthe great prize day. Pris meantime will have given you a really goodpaper, which you will sign and give in as your own. Thus your victorywill be accomplished, and you need dread nothing further."
"But," said Mabel, "I am looked upon as rather a fool in the school; noone for a moment thinks me clever."
"I am coming to that point. For the next fortnight I shall make myselfintensely busy in circulating a little story. You must pretend to knownothing about it, and in all probability the tale will not reach yourears. But this story is to the effect that you are in reality a sort ofhidden genius; in short, that you are a poet and write verses inprivate. Now what do you think of that? Am not I a friend worthhaving?"
"You are wonderfully clever," said Mabel. "I begin to be almost afraidof you."
"Oh, you needn't be that, dear. Who would be afraid of poor littleAnnie?"
"I don't know," said Mabel. "Your eyes look quite wicked sometimes.You must be frightfully wicked, you know, to have thought out thisscheme so cleverly."
"I am not more wicked than you are--not one single bit," cried Annie."Only I have the courage of my convictions, and the ability to thinkthings out and to save my friends. If you imagine that I am unhappynow, you are vastly mistaken. Far from being unhappy, I feel intenselytriumphant; for I have managed to help three people--Priscie, you, andmyself."
"Oh Annie!" said Mabel, "I am not at all sure that Aunt Henrietta willinvite you to Paris."
"Aren't you?" said Annie. She took the essay as she spoke, and rolledit up. She then proceeded to gather up some loose pages of foolscappaper, pen and ink, and blotting-paper, and finally she blew out thecandles and added them to a little parcel which she proceeded to stowaway in a small basket.
"We will go back to the house now," she said. "We must tread verysoftly."
Mabel found herself trembling a great deal and wishing most heartily shewas out of this scrape as she followed Annie across the grass. Therewas a brilliant moon in the sky, and there was a little piece of lawn,bare of any shelter, which they had to cross in order to get to thehome. Should any one happen to be looking out of a window, that personcould not fail to see the girls as they crossed this moonlit lawn.Mabel thought of it with growing terror as they returned home, and whenthey found themselves standing at the edge of a belt of dark pine-treespreparatory to rushing across the lawn, she clutched her companion bythe arm.
"Oh, I know we shall be seen!" she cried. "Oh, I wish I had not doneit!"
"It is too late to go back now, Mabel," said Annie; "there is nothingfor it but forward--right forward. Don't be a coward;--no one will seeus. What teacher is likely to be out of bed at two o'clock in themorning? We shall be in the house in next to no time. We'll then creepupstairs to our private sitting-room, and all danger will be over.Come, May, come; there's no holding back now."
Annie took her companion's hand, and they rushed tremblingly across thelawn, each of them devoutly hoping that no one was up. A minute or twolater they were safely inside the shelter of the house, and then, again,in another minute Annie had softly opened the door of the girls'sitting-room, where they were to stay until the time for invadingPriscilla arrived.
"You may go to sleep if you like," said Annie. "I will hold your hand;you needn't be at all alarmed, for I have drawn the bolt of the door, sothat if any one should come prying, that person would be preventedentering. But just before you drop asleep I want to arrange my part."
"I wish I were well out of the whole thing," said Mabel.
"You _can_ be, of course," said Annie. "It is but to destroy, thispaper that we have just composed together."
"Oh no, Annie; it isn't mine at all."
"Well, at least you have done the writing of it; if the thoughts aremine, the penmanship is yours. Come, Mabel, don't be a goose.Everything is in progress, and you'll be as happy as the day is long bythis time to-morrow."
"You forget that I have still to get that horrid money."
"Of course you have; but as you seem so nervous and faint-hearted, youhad much better write a little note now to Mrs Priestley. I will lightone of the candles, and you can get that over. I will take it to-morrowafternoon, and trust me not to return without your thirty pounds safeand sound. But the one thing which must be settled, and positivelysettled, is my little part. You have got solemnly to promise that Ishall spend the summer holidays with you."
"Suppose Aunt Henrietta refuses."
"But she is not to refuse, Mabel. If this thing were completed and Ifound that you had backed out of your honourable bargain with me, Ishould find it my duty to--Oh Mabel, need I go on?"
/> "No, no," said Mabel, "you needn't; I understand you. I don't expect Ishall be as happy as I thought, even if I have my year of liberty; butstill, I suppose I must make the best of a bad bargain, and of course Ishould like to have you with me in Paris."
"It will be necessary for you to have me with you, if you are to managethe money for the two remaining terms," said Annie.
"Very well; I will agree, I will agree."
"You promise that I shall spend the holidays with you?"
"Yes; that is, after the first week or so.