Three Girls from School

“You can be, of course,” said Annie. “It is but to destroy, this paper that we have just composed together.”

“Oh no, Annie; it isn’t mine at all.”

“Well, at least you have done the writing of it; if the thoughts are mine, the penmanship is yours. Come, Mabel, don’t be a goose. Everything is in progress, and you’ll be as happy as the day is long by this time to-morrow.”

“You forget that I have still to get that horrid money.”

“Of course you have; but as you seem so nervous and faint-hearted, you had much better write a little note now to Mrs Priestley. I will light one of the candles, and you can get that over. I will take it to-morrow afternoon, and trust me not to return without your thirty pounds safe and sound. But the one thing which must be settled, and positively settled, is my little part. You have got solemnly to promise that I shall spend the summer holidays with you.”

“Suppose Aunt Henrietta refuses.”

“But she is not to refuse, Mabel. If this thing were completed and I found that you had backed out of your honourable bargain with me, I should find it my duty to – Oh Mabel, need I go on?”

“No, no,” said Mabel, “you needn’t; I understand you. I don’t expect I shall be as happy as I thought, even if I have my year of liberty; but still, I suppose I must make the best of a bad bargain, and of course I should like to have you with me in Paris.”

“It will be necessary for you to have me with you, if you are to manage the money for the two remaining terms,” said Annie.

“Very well; I will agree, I will agree.”

“You promise that I shall spend the holidays with you?”

“Yes; that is, after the first week or so. I must have at least a week to get round Aunt Henrietta.”

“Oh, I will give you a week, my dear; for I also must have that week to get round Uncle Maurice. Now then, all is right. Give me a kiss, dear; we shall have fun! You will never regret this night, I can tell you, Mabel.”

“I hope I sha’n’t. I do feel mean and small at present. But what about the note to Mrs Priestley? What am I to say?”

“Dear, dear,” said Annie, who was now in the highest spirits, “what it is to have brains! Come and sit in this corner, over here. Now I will light the candle for you; no one can see any light under the door. Here we are: and here’s our little candle doing its duty.”

As Annie spoke she swiftly struck a match.

“Here is your sheet of paper, Mabel; and here is your pen. And now I will dictate the note. Write what I say.”

Mabel began:

”‘Dear Mrs Priestley, – My friend Annie Brooke is taking this letter to you. The business is of great importance, and she will explain and make the necessary terms. I want you to lend me thirty pounds, please. Annie will arrange the terms; and I want you, please, not to tell anybody. You know Annie Brooke – she is my greatest friend. Aunt Henrietta will want me to have a specially beautiful dress to wear at the break-up, for I expect to take a most distinguished position there.’”

“Oh, must I put that in?” said Mabel.

“You must put what I tell you,” answered Annie. “Go on. Have you written ‘distinguished position’?”

“Yes – oh yes. This letter sounds perfectly horrid, and not a bit like me.”

“It will soon be finished now,” said Annie.

“Come, Mabel; you are chicken-hearted. You most pay something for your thirty pounds, you know.”

“Yes; but how on earth am I to return it to her?”

“I’ll manage that, goosey, goosey. Now then, proceed.

”‘I will call on you to-morrow in order to choose the dress. It must be very rich indeed, and with real lace on it. My aunt would wish me to look well dressed on the prize day. – Yours, Mabel Lushington.’

“Now, the date, please,” said Annie.

Mabel inserted it.

“Fold it up, please, and direct this envelope,” continued practical Annie. This was done and the letter slipped into Annie’s pocket. She then, to Mabel’s surprise, put another sheet of paper before that young lady.

“What does this mean?” said Mabel.

“You will write these words, please, Mabel:

“In acknowledgment of thirty pounds, I, Mabel Lushington, faithfully promise to invite Annie Brooke to spend the summer holidays with Lady Lushington and myself in Paris.”

“But, Annie,” cried poor Mabel, “I am terrified at having to write this.”

“Don’t write it, and the thing is off,” said Annie.

She moved to the other end of the room. Mabel sat the very picture of misery by the little table where the one candle burned. Some minutes went by. After a time Annie said:

“You may as well go on, for I hold your letter to Mrs Priestley in my pocket.”

“Oh, oh!” said Mabel, “I get more frightened of you, Annie, each moment. Well, what am I to say? I forget.”

“Darling, it is so easy,” said Annie in her gentlest tone. “Now then, I will dictate once more.”

She did so. The words were put down. Annie herself folded up this precious piece of paper, and put it for safety into the bosom of her dress.

“Now we are all right,” she said; “and I’ve got some chocolates to give you, and we can both curl up on the sofa and go to sleep until it’s time to wake Pris.”

Mabel and Annie were about to retire to the comfortable old lounge which occupied a place of honour in the sitting-room, when they were at once frightened and rejoiced by hearing a voice say very distinctly outside the schoolroom door:

“It is I – Priscie. Let me in.”

Annie immediately flew to the door, drew back the bolt, and admitted Priscilla. Priscilla was wearing a long, ugly, grey dressing-gown; her face looked nearly as grey. She came swiftly forward and put her manuscript on the table.

“Sign it,” she said to Mabel. “Be quick. Don’t hesitate, or I will draw back. I have lived through the most awful night; but there’s no use in waiting until five o’clock. I was up, and saw you two run across the lawn. I guessed you would come here, and I made up my mind. Be quick, Mabel Lushington – sign.”

“Here is your pen,” said Annie. – “Pris, you are a plucky girl. You’ll never repent of this.”

“You promise,” said Priscilla, “to pay me a year’s schooling?” She did not glance at Annie; her eyes were fixed on Mabel.

“Yes,” said Mabel, nodding to her and speaking with difficulty.

“You will get your money to-morrow evening, dear, at latest,” said Annie; “I mean the money for the autumn term.”

Still Priscilla did not look at Annie.