"I want you to help me until Priscilla's year at school is out," was Mabel's matter-of-fact retort. "Of course, dear, of course; and I will. Your Annie will never forsake you. But now perhaps we had better go downstairs." The girls made a quite picturesque appearance as they went slowly down the broad staircase. Mabel had not cried enough to look ugly, and Annie's few tears and pallor and evident distress gave to her face the depth of expression which in her lighter moments it had lacked. John Saxon was seated close to Lady Lushington. Lady Lushington had recognised him as a friend and a favourite. He rose when the girls appeared, and Lady Lushington went at once up to Annie. Her manner was very cold and distant. "You did not give me the slightest idea, Miss Brooke, how ill your uncle was when you received your cousin's letter." "I didn't know that he was especially ill," said Annie. Lady Lushington looked full at her. It seemed at that moment that a veil had fallen away from Annie's face, and that the gay, proud, and selfish woman of the world saw the girl for the first time as she was. Lady Lushington, with all her faults--the faults of her class and her manner of life--was exceedingly good-natured, and could be remarkably kind. She was thoroughly angry with Annie for concealing the truth with regard to John Saxon's letter. She could, and would, forgive much to any young girl who was enjoying herself and who wanted to continue the good time which had fallen to her lot; but to forget one who stood in the place of a father, to let him long for her in vain, was more than Lady Lushington could stand. "I don't appreciate that sort of thing," she said to herself. "It is, somehow, beneath me. I don't understand it." She made up her mind on the spot, that, as far as Mabel was concerned, the friendship between the two girls was to terminate there and then. Never would she have anything farther to do with Annie Brooke. As that was the case, she did not consider it necessary to correct her. "I am sorry," she said briefly, "that you did not interpret very plain English in the manner in which it was intended. I don't think for a single moment that your cousin meant to complain of you to me, but he simply quoted some words of his letter, and seemed altogether astonished that you did not start for England the day before yesterday. However, I trust you will find your dear uncle alive when you get home. I have desired Parker to pack your things, and now you would doubtless like to go up and change your dress." "Thank you," said Annie very meekly. She glanced in Mrs Ogilvie's direction; but Mrs Ogilvie took no notice of her. "Mabel, come and sit here near Mrs Ogilvie," said Lady Lushington as Annie once again disappeared. "You can say good-bye to your friend presently; there is no necessity for you to spend the whole evening upstairs." CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR. HOME NO MORE.