Mabel longed to say, "What are you going to do about the poem?" but in sight of that pale presence with its look of suffering, and the bondage on the head, she thought that such a remark would be quite too heartless. She stepped, therefore, very softly out of the room, and going downstairs, made a most effective announcement with regard to Annie. "She says it is nothing," remarked Mabel, who was almost in tears; "but she looks quite dreadful--so ghastly white." Little did Mabel know that Annie had smeared powder over her face to give it that death-like appearance. She had managed it with great skill, and trusted to its not being noticed. "Miss Phillips," said Mrs Lyttelton, "will you go and see what is wrong? If Annie is feverish we must get a doctor. She may have a little touch of the sun, my dears; it is always unwise to be out too much this hot weather." "She looked awfully flushed," said one girl, "when we met her in the High Street yesterday. It was after she had been with Mrs Priestley." "It must be a touch of the sun," said Mrs Lyttelton; "perhaps I had better go to her myself." "Let me go first, dear Mrs Lyttelton," said Miss Phillips; "I can soon let you know if there is anything wrong." Accordingly, Miss Phillips went gently upstairs Annie had the curtains drawn at the windows, but the windows themselves had their sashes open. She was lying in such a position that the powder on her face could not be noticed. When Miss Phillips came in Annie uttered a groan. "Oh, why do you trouble?" she said, opening half an eye and looking at the mistress. Her dread was that Mrs Lyttelton herself might appear. It would be difficult to hide the powder from her. Old Phillips, however, as she termed her, was a person easily imposed upon. "Don't fuss about me, please," said Annie. "I have just a bad headache. I am sorry I can't be in the schoolroom this morning; but I just can't. I am not a bit hot--not a bit--but my head is dreadful. I want to go out and lie in one of the hammocks in the garden. Do you think Mrs Lyttelton will let me?" "Indeed she will, poor dear!" said Miss Phillips. "She is ever so sorry for you. You do look bad, Annie. Wouldn't you like me to draw back the curtain, dear? Your room is so dark." "Oh, please don't!" said Annie. "I can't bear the light." "Well, my dear--well, of course--how thoughtless of me! I have brought you some tea." "Thank you; I shall be glad of a cup." "Poor child! Then you wouldn't like to see Mrs Lyttelton herself?" "Not for the world," said Annie with unnecessary vehemence. But then she added prettily, "It is so sweet of her to think of it, and for little me--as if I were of any consequence. It's just a headache, and I'll be all right in the garden, and at dinner-time you will see me looking just as usual."