"I am not very good at hills," she explained to Lady Lushington. "They always set my heart beating rather badly. But never mind; the letters are posted and off our minds." "One of those letters is by no means off my mind," said Lady Lushington in a fierce tone, and glancing with reproachful eyes at Mabel. Annie bent towards her and said in a whisper (she could not be heard by Mabel and Priscilla as some servants came up at the moment to present dishes to the two young ladies):-- "Please say _nothing_ before Priscilla, I beg of you." The voice was so earnest and so sympathetic, and the little face looked so appealing, that Lady Lushington patted the small white hand. Priscilla's voice, however, was now heard: "It was a great pity, Annie, that you did run so fast to the post and then toil up that steep hill, for I offered to go for you; and besides, the English post does not leave before five o'clock." Annie felt furious, but replied in her meekest voice: "I felt responsible for dear Lady Lushington's letters." Nothing more was said on the subject during lunch, and afterwards the ladies went off on a long expedition up into the mountains with some other friends whose acquaintance they had made in the hotel. It was not until that evening, when they were going to bed, that Mabel heard a light tap at her door, and the next moment Annie, in her pretty blue dressing-gown, with her fair hair falling about her shoulders and a brush in her hand, entered. "Have you time for a talk with poor little me, and has Priscie gone to bed?" "Dear me! yes," said Mabel. "Priscilla has been in bed and asleep an hour ago. Come in, Annie, of course. I am dead with sleep myself, and if Aunt Hennie knew she might be annoyed. Now, what is it you want?" Annie took the letter addressed to Mrs Priestley out of her pocket. "To talk to you about this," she said, and she sat calmly down on a chair and faced her tall companion. Mabel was also in the act of brushing out her luxuriant hair, and looked as handsome a creature as could be found anywhere, in her long, flowing, white dressing-gown. When she read the address on the letter her eyes darkened and some of the colour left her cheeks. "Are you writing to Mrs Priestley?" she said. "What about?" "I wrote that letter to-day," said Annie, "to Lady Lushington's dictation. The account has come in; total amount seventy pounds. Lady Lushington is furious. I told her all the lies I could, dear Mabel, about the dresses you had _never_ got, and in the end I managed to avert the evil day by asking Mrs Priestley to send the items. That satisfied Lady Lushington for the time. You will understand now why I could not accept Priscilla's offer to post the letters, because I happened to have this one in my hand and did not wish it to _go_. It must not go for a day or two. In the meantime we must do something."