"As long as women wear dresses there must be other women to make them, I suppose. I see nothing derogatory in that, Annie, provided your friend likes it." "Oh, how can you talk in such a way?" said Annie, her tone changing now to one of almost petulance. "Why, if Priscie were turned into a dressmaker she would lose her position; she wouldn't have a chance; she would go under; and she is so clever--oh, so clever! It does not require that sort of cleverness to be a dressmaker." "Perhaps not," said Saxon. "I begin to understand; your English view of the calling is not ours in Tasmania. And so you want to go to Paris to help this girl?" "Yes; principally about her. In fact, I may say I am going almost wholly about her." "I am not to know the reason?" "I cannot tell you, for it would betray her." "Have you spoken to your uncle on the subject?" "Yes." "And what did he say?" "Well," said Annie eagerly, "it was this way. My other great friend is a certain Mabel Lushington. She is staying with her aunt Lady Lushington; and Lady Lushington most kindly sent me an invitation to join them both on Tuesday evening. They are going to take me to Switzerland and pay all my expenses, and of course I shall have a jolly time." "But would that help your friend, the prospective dressmaker?" "Yes. It may sound very puzzling; but if I were to join Mabel Lushington, it would put things all right for my friend." "It is puzzling, of course, for me to understand, Annie; but I must take you at your word and suppose that it is so." "Indeed it is, John; indeed it is. And I am, oh, so unhappy about it!" The blue eyes filled with tears. They looked very pretty as they brimmed over and the tears rolled down the smooth young cheeks. Annie could cry just a little without her appearance being at all spoiled thereby. On the contrary, a few tears added to a certain pathos which came at such times into her face. John Saxon found himself looking at the tears and accepting Annie's view of the matter as quite plausible. "It is very good of you to give me a little of your confidence," he said. "I do!" she answered resolutely; "for I want you to help me." "Anything in my power that is not wrong I will do," he replied. The firm tone of his voice, and the way in which he said, "Anything that is not wrong," damped Annie's hopes for a minute. Then she continued: "I spoke to Uncle Maurice, not telling him, of course, anything about Priscie, but simply expressing a desire to accept the invitation, and he said that I should go and he would find the money if Lady Lushington was all right." "What does that mean?" asked Saxon.