When Annie left the "Beau Sejour" at Zermatt, Mabel felt herself in a state of distressing weakness and uncertainty. Annie had been her prop, and, as she had expressed it, she could not possibly go on being wicked without her. Accordingly, when the loss of the necklace was revealed to Lady Lushington on the following morning, Mabel let out a great deal more with regard to the loss of that treasure than Annie had intended her to do. She said nothing to deteriorate its value, but murmured so vaguely that she had certainly put it into the old trunk, and looked so sheepish when she was saying the words, that Lady Lushington began to suspect the truth. "Now, Mabel," she said, taking her niece's hand and drawing her towards the light, "you are not at all good at concealing things; you have not the cleverness of your friend. I have for some time had my suspicions with regard to that _quondam_ friend of yours, Annie Brooke. I don't want you to betray her in any sense of the word, but I will know this: are you telling me the truth about the necklace? Did you put it into the lid of the trunk?" Mabel prevaricated, stammered, blushed, and was forced to admit that she had not done so. On the top of this revelation, Lady Lushington was quick in pressing her niece to make a further one, and at last Mabel admitted that she thought, but was not at all sure, that Mr Manchuri, the old Jewish gentleman who had been staying at the Hotel Belle Vue, knew something about the necklace. "It is quite safe; I am certain it is quite safe," said Mabel; "but I think he knows about it. Had not we better write and ask Annie?" "We will do nothing of the kind," said Lady Lushington. "Mabel, I am disgusted with you. You can go away to your room. You are my niece, or I would never speak to you again; but if I do not get to the bottom of this mystery, and pretty quickly, too, my name is not Henrietta Lushington." "Oh dear," thought poor Mabel, "what awful mischief I have done! Annie will be wild. Still, all is not known. I don't think Aunt Henrietta can think the very worst of me even if she does learn the story of the necklace; that won't tell her how I won the prize, and that won't explain to her the true story of Mrs Priestley's bill." As Mabel was leaving the room, very downcast and fearfully miserable, Lady Lushington called her back.