"Poor May!" said Annie; "no wonder. You must know, Lady Lushington, that after your letter came May nearly worked herself into a fever to get that literature prize. She could think of nothing else. She did so long to be with you; didn't you, May?" "Indeed I did," replied Mabel. "Well, that is gratifying, I suppose," said Lady Lushington; "although I am by no means certain, my dear May, that I return the compliment. My impression is that another year at that excellent school would do you no end of good. Well, you lost your head trying to get that prize. But how could that fact affect Mrs Priestley's bill?" "I mean," said Mabel, "that I forgot about packing my dresses and taking them away, and I had not an idea that my bill amounted to that. In fact," she added, meeting Annie's eyes, "I am quite positive that Mrs Priestley has made a mistake, and that you will find the bill--" Here she hesitated. "I," said Annie, "happen to know pretty well what May's lovely dresses cost. Oh, you know, Lady Lushington, _we_ thought them perfectly ruinous in price--we schoolgirls; for _our_ best dresses usually come to from three to four pounds. But May's--oh, some of hers were up to ten or twelve guineas. Even so, however, I don't think May can owe Mrs Priestley more than forty pounds." "Then the woman's a thief and a cheat!" said angry Lady Lushington. "I think, perhaps," said Annie, speaking in her gentlest tones, "it might be fairest to let her explain. She has probably--oh, she has such numbers of customers!--put down some items that don't belong to Mabel in her account." "Well, well, we shall see," said Lady Lushington. "You posted that letter, didn't you, Miss Brooke?" Then she added, hastily and without waiting for an answer, "I shall be glad if it is so. I make no objection to paying forty pounds, but I do draw the line at seventy." "Thank you, auntie; thank you so much," said Mabel, running up to her aunt and kissing her. "Now don't, my dear! You disturb the powder on my cheek. Do sit down; don't be so impulsive." "I know what you are wanting to do; I know what is in your head, you silly Mabel," said Annie at this juncture. Lady Lushington looked up. "What is it?" she asked. "Oh," said Annie, "it is that necklace--that wonderful, amazing bargain." Lady Lushington pricked up her ears. She could not--and all her friends were aware of the fact--ever resist a bargain. She would have gone from one end of London to the other to secure the most useless old trash if she was firmly convinced in her own mind that she had to get it as a bargain. She now, therefore, sat up with sparkling eyes, and Mrs Priestley and her bill were as absolutely forgotten as though they had never existed. "There are no bargains at Interlaken," was her next remark. "Oh, are there not?" said Annie. "Mabel and I know something very different from that." "What is it, my dear? What is it?"