"What in the world am I to do without her?" she thought as, refusing the lift, she went up the wide and spacious staircase, up and up to that fourth floor of the immense hotel where the Lushingtons' rooms were situated. Meanwhile Saxon drew Annie aside into a small room which led out of the great hall. "Why did not you come when I telegraphed? I sent you money for the purpose. You must come with me now, at once. A train leaves here for England at midnight. Will you go and pack your things? Take that off"--he glanced at the pretty blue dress. "Get ready. Do you wish to see him alive?" "John, don't look at me like that. Where is the use? How could I tell that Uncle Maurice was so ill? I can't stand it, John, if you look at me like that. Although you are my cousin, John, you have no right to." "No right to?" he said with scorn. "I know a _woman_ when I see her, and a butterfly when I look at her. Do you think it was a pleasure to me to leave the dying old man, to run the risk of his dying in my absence, in order to bring you to him? But he shall have his last great wish gratified, and I believe God will spare him just that he may see you again. But I tell you what it is, Annie Brooke, if we return and find that saint has left the world before the one wish of his heart is gratified, I shall feel uncommonly like cursing you. Now you know what I think of you. Go upstairs at once and get ready; we leave here immediately." "Oh John!" moaned poor Annie. But John Saxon was obdurate. One of the waiters came in and asked the gentleman if he wanted a room. John briefly explained his errand. He would have a meal of some sort, he said, and must leave by the midnight train. The young lady, Miss Brooke, his cousin, would accompany him. If Mabel scorned the lift in order to get to her room, Annie was glad to avail herself of it. She was glad to sink back into a corner of the spacious lift and close her eyes for a minute and try to recover her scattered thoughts. Was the whole world crumbling to pieces around her? Were all her schemes to come to naught? The necklace--would her dealings with Mr Manchuri in the matter of the necklace ever be discovered? Would other matters in connection with that disgraceful affair come to light? Would Mabel--poor silly Mabel, left all alone with Lady Lushington and Mrs Ogilvie--confess the truth? Annie was terrified that Mabel would do so. At this moment she dreaded Mabel even more than she had dreaded Priscilla; for Mabel was essentially weak, whereas Priscilla was essentially strong. If Priscilla thought it right to go through a certain course, she would go through it, come what might; but Mabel could be moved and turned and tossed about by any wind of chance.