House on its return from the expedition to town, and Miss Phipps gave
instructions that the girls were to go straight to their rooms to dress
for the evening. Full dress was the rule for the evenings of term-
holiday, for even if nothing particular was going on, and no extra
guests expected, it gave one a gala feeling to don a light frock, and
gaze down upon one's very best shoes and stockings. Before leaving for
town in the morning, visits had been paid to the box-room to take the
rarely-used splendours from their wrappings, and now they lay stretched
out in all their glory on the narrow beds, white, blue, and pink, a very
wealth of colour and luxury.
Pixie O'Shaughnessy, having no adornment to do for herself, acted as
lady's-maid to her bedroom, with much satisfaction to her mistresses,
and credit to herself. She brushed Kate's hair until it was so smooth
and flat as to be almost invisible from a front view; she tied Ethel's
sash, and the ribbon to match which confined the ends of her curls; and
she fastened Flora's dress, which was a matter of difficulty and time,
for though it was let out regularly each holiday-time, it invariably
grew too tight before it was needed again.
"I can't help it," the poor thing protested miserably. "I don't eat
half as much as Ethel, and she's as thin as a stick. It's my fate! I
was born fat, and I go on growing fatter and fatter all the time. I
shall be a fat woman in a show, before I am done with it. It's hard
lines, for I should so love to be slim and willowy. That's what the
heroines are in books, and it makes me quite ill every time I read it.
Nothing exciting ever happens to fat people! The thin ones get all the
fun and excitement, and marry the nice man, while the poor fatty stays
at home, and waits upon her hand and foot. Then she grows into an aunt,
and takes charge of the nephews and nieces when they have fever or
measles, or when the parents go abroad for a holiday. Everyone imposes
upon her, just because she is fat!"
"No, indeed, then, it is because she's good-natured. Look at yourself
now; you are always laughing!" declared Pixie soothingly. "Hold yer
breath a single moment while I get the better of this hook. Ye'll not
need to curtsey too low, I'm thinking, or you'll go off like a cracker!
And the elegant dress that it is, too! I remember the night Bridgie
went to her first ball, the Hunt Ball it was, over at Roskillie. It was
me mother's wedding-dress that she wore, and she looked like a picture
in it, the darlin'! Me mother was for having it altered to be in the
fashion, but me father says, `Leave it alone; you'll spoil it if ye
alter a stitch! It's better than fashionable,' he says, `it's artistic,
and fits the child like her own skin.' So away it was put in Bridgie's
cupboard, and Esmeralda comes peeping at it, and, thinks she, `What
yellow lace! It would be a disgrace to us all to have the girl dancing
about with that dirty stuff round her neck,' so not a word did she
speak, but off with the lace and washed it herself, with a good hard
rub, and plenty of blue bag. Then she ironed it, with a morsel of
starch to make it stand out and show itself off, and stitched it on
again as proud as could be. It was to be a surprise for Bridgie, and,
me dears, it _was_ a surprise! Mother and Bridgie screeching at the top
of their voices, and looking as if the plague was upon us. Would ye
believe it, it was just what they liked, to have the lace that colour,
and it was the bad turn Esmeralda had done them, starching it up like
new! Off it all came, and mother found an old lace scarf, yellower than
the first, and pinned it round Bridgie's shoulders, and she had pearls
round her neck, and a star in her hair, and Lord Atrim danced the first
dance with her, and told me mother she was the prettiest thing he had
seen for a twelvemonth. But Esmeralda sulked all the evening, and it
was very lively for me alone at home with her tantrums!"
Flora chuckled softly, and Ethel give a shrill "He! he!" from her
cubicle at the other end of the room.
"I do think you must be the funniest family! You seem always to be
doing the most extraordinary things. We never have such experiences at
home. We used to go along quietly and steadily, and there is never any
hubbub nor excitement. You seem to have a constant succession of alarms
and adventures."
"We do so!" said Pixie with relish. "Scarcely the day that we're not
all rushing about in distraction about something. Either it's the boys
tumbling out of the barn and cutting themselves open, or father bringing
home accidents from the meet, or the ferret getting loose in the
drawing-room when there's visitors present, or not a pound of fresh meat
in the house, and the Bishop taking it into his head to drive over ten
miles to lunch! And Bridgie was for going out and killing a chicken,
and engaging him in conversation while it was cooked, but mother says,
`No, the man's hungry! Bring lunch in the same as if we were alone, and
leave the rest to me.' And when he had asked the blessing she says,
smiling, `It's nothing but ham and eggs I've got to offer ye, Bishop,
but there's enough welcome for ten courses,' and the smile of him would
have done you good to behold. Three eggs he ate, and half a pig
besides, and `It's the best lunch I've had since I said good-bye to
short jackets,' he said when he was finished."
"Now, now, Pixie, not so much talking! Get on with your own dressing,
you little chatterbox!" cried Kate, putting her head round the corner of
the curtain and giving a tug to the end of the short black skirt.
"Flora can manage now, and you have not too much time, if you are to
catch Lottie before she goes out. Hurry up! Hurry up!"
Pixie retired obediently, for Kate was head girl of the dormitory, and
must needs be obeyed; so one black frock came off and another went on,
the stout boots were exchanged for slippers, and then--the others having
already departed--she turned down the gas, and skipped along to the room
where Lottie stood waiting for her, a vision of spotless white.
"That's right! I was just wondering what had become of you. Sit down
here, and I'll put on the collar, and just call out if I stick a pin in
you by mistake. I'm going to fasten it with this little brooch. There!
Isn't it sweet? I think I will give it to you to keep. I never wear
it, and you might just as well have it. Yes, I will! You shall have it
for a term-holiday present, because you were a kind little girl and
didn't join the other girls when they were nasty to me last week. Are
you pleased with it now?"
"Oh-h, Lottie! You darlin'! Is it really me very own?" Pixie was
fairly breathless with pleasure and excitement, and could only exclaim
rapturously and gaze at the reflection of the new treasure, while Lottie
smiled, well pleased to have given so much pleasure. Yes! she told
herself she was really devoted to Pixie O'Shaughnessy! There was
something so sweet and taking about the child that it made one feel nice
to give her pleasure, and she pinned, and arranged, and tied ribbons
with as much zest as if she were arranging her own toilette.
"There! Now you are done. I think you look very nice. The collar goes
so well with that black dress."
"My worrd! Aren't I stylish! I just look beautiful!" cried Pixie,
poking her ugly little face close to the glass, and twisting round and
round to examine herself in all aspects. She kissed Lottie effusively,
expressed a hundred thanks, and danced downstairs into the schoolroom,
where the girls were standing about in twos and threes, looking so grand
that it was quite difficult to recognise them. They all stared at her
as the latest arrival, and Pixie, being conscious of their scrutiny,
held out her arms stiffly on either side, and revolved slowly round and
round on one heel. The girls laughed uproariously at first, then
suddenly the laughs subsided into titters, and Pixie, stopping to see
what was wrong, espied Miss Phipps and the three governesses standing
just inside the doorway, watching with the rest, and applauding with
their hands. It was an embarrassing moment, and the performer made a
quick dash behind a sofa to screen herself from publicity, but she had
not been there five minutes before she was called upon to answer a
question.
"Pixie, Kate tells me you were in Lottie's room before you came down.
Was she nearly ready?"
"She was, Miss Phipps, quite ready! Only waiting for me. She's on a
white dress, and--"
"Never mind that. I want you to run upstairs, please, and tell her that
the cab is here. She must put on her wraps and come down at once."
"I will, Miss Phipps." There was a whisk of short black skirts and off
she went, running lightly upstairs, and raising her voice in rich,
musical cry, "Lottie! Lottie!"
"The real Irish voice! She ought to be able to sing charmingly when she
is older," said Miss Phipps to Mademoiselle, and Mademoiselle nodded her
head in assent.
"I 'ope so! It is a great charm for a young girl to sing well, and she
is not pretty. _La pauvre petite_!"
"No; yet the father is fine-looking, and my friends tell me that the two
sisters are quite beauties, and all the family wonderfully handsome with
this one exception. But Pixie is better than pretty, she is charming.
Would you be kind enough to go to the dining-room to see if everything
is ready, Mademoiselle? It is time we began tea."
Mademoiselle departed, and came back to give the required signal, when
the girls filed slowly across the hall, casting curious glances at
Lottie as she came downstairs. She was wrapped up in a long white
cloak, and had a fleecy shawl thrown over her head, almost covering her
face from view. She looked very dainty, and when the door opened and
they beheld her step into the cab, they felt a rising of envy which
could not be entirely removed, even by the sight of the luxurious tea
spread out on the dining-room table.
"Lottie is a lucky creature!" sighed Clara discontentedly. "She is
always going out. I wish my people lived near, instead of at the other
end of England. I am glad I am North Country, though; I don't like
Southerners! I agree with Tennyson--
"`True, and firm, and tender is the North;
False, and fair, and smiling is the South.'"
"It isn't false; it's sweet!"
"It _is_ false, I tell you! False, and fair, and--"
"Sweet, and fair, and--"
"Ask Miss Phipps, then, if you won't believe me. Oh, I say, look at the
icing on the cake! We didn't have icing last time. Doesn't the table
look nice? I do think it is sweet of Miss Phipps to take so much
trouble. Sit by me, and we will get hold of Pixie, and make her tell us
stories. It makes me laugh just to hear that child talk. Her brogue
doesn't get a bit better."
"I hope it never may. Pixie, here! Sit by us. We've kept a place!"
But Pixie shook her head, for she had been engaged to Flora ever since
breakfast, and was already seating herself at the other end of the
table. She did not speak much, however, during the meal, for experience
had taught what it had been difficult to express in words--that it was
not respectful to her teachers to chatter in their presence, as she
would do with her companions. She applied herself instead to the good
things that had been provided, and ate away steadily until she had
sampled the contents of every plate upon the table, and could
superintend the choice of her companions with the wisdom of experience.
Miss Phipps had drawn out a programme of games for the evening's
amusement, and later on the older pupils took it in turns to play
waltzes and polkas, while the others danced. The teachers joined in
with the rest, and it was a proud girl who had Miss Phipps for a
partner, while Mademoiselle was so light and agile that it was like
dancing with a feather, and Fraulein felt like a heavy log lying against
one's arm. Then everyone sat down and puffed and panted, while Jeanie,
the Scotch girl, danced a Highland Fling, and when Pixie called out an
appropriate "Hoch! Hoch!" the teachers laughed as heartily as the
girls; for be it well understood there are things which are allowed on
term-holiday which the rashest spirit dare not attempt on working days!
Then two pretty sisters went through the stately figures of a minuet,
and Margaret sang a song in her sweet voice, pronouncing the words so
distinctly that you really knew what she was singing about, which
nowadays is a very rare and wonderful accomplishment. Altogether it was
a most festive evening, and Flora was in the act of remarking
complacently, "We really are a most accomplished school!" when suddenly
the scene changed, and an expression of horrified anxiety appeared on
every face, for Mademoiselle came rushing into the room, which she had
left but a few minutes before, and the tears stood in her eyes, and her
face was scarlet with mingled grief and anger. She held in one hand the
gold stopper of her precious scent-bottle, and in the other a number of
pieces of broken glass, at sight of which a groan of dismay sounded on
every hand.
"_Voila! Regardez_ See what I 'ave found! I go to my room, and the air
is full of scent, and I turn up the gas, and there it is--on the
dressing-table before my eyes--in pieces! My bottle--that I have kept
all these years--that was given to me by my friend--my dear, good
friend!"
Her voice broke off in a sob, and Miss Phipps came forward to examine
the pieces with an expression of real distress.
"But, Mademoiselle, how has it happened? You found it on the table, you
say,--not on the floor. If it had been on the floor, you might perhaps
have swept it off in leaving the room, and not heard the sound against
the mat. But on the table! How could it be broken on the table?"
"Someone has been touching it and let it drop."
"I be so careless as to break my bottle? It is impossible to think of!
I never come away without a look to see that it is safe. I dust my
dressing-table myself every morning, so that no one shall interfere with
my things. The servants know that it is so. When I came downstairs
this evening it was all right. I have not been upstairs since."
"I think very few of us have. We have been too busy. Ellen would go
in, of course, to prepare the bed. Did she--"
"Yes! It was Ellen who told me. I was in the hall, and she came out of
the kitchen and said, `Oh, Mademoiselle, do you know? Your beautiful
bottle is broken!'" Mademoiselle's voice broke; she held out the pieces
and exclaimed in broken tones, "And I ran--and I saw--this!"
"I am sorry! I am grieved! But we must get to the bottom of this
mystery. Things do not fall over and break by themselves. Girls, do
any of you know anything about this? If so, please speak out at once,
and don't be afraid to tell the truth. If by any chance one of you has
unintentionally broken Mademoiselle's bottle, I know you will be as
deeply grieved as she can be herself; but the only thing you can do now
is to explain, and beg her forgiveness. Carelessness it must have been,
and you cannot hope to escape altogether without punishment, but
remember deception is fifty times worse. I have no mercy on a girl who
knows she is guilty, and lets her companions rest under the shadow of
suspicion. Now, I ask you again, do you know anything at all of the
cause of this accident?"
There was a unanimous burst of denial from all parts of the room; but
different girls took the question in different ways, as was natural to
the different characters. Some looked grieved, some indignant, a few
showed suspicions of tears, and Pixie looked so thoroughly scared and
miserable that more than one eye rested curiously upon her.
Miss Phipps glanced around with her keen, scrutinising glance, then
pressed her lips together, and said sharply--
"This becomes serious! You all deny it? Very well, I must find out the
truth for myself. Call Ellen, please, Mademoiselle. I am sorry to have
such a painful ending to our happy holiday, but we cannot go to bed with
this cloud hanging over us. Ellen, Mademoiselle tells me that you found
the scent-bottle broken when you went into her room just now to turn
down the bed!"
Ellen straightened herself and fumbled miserably with the corner of her
apron. She loved all the girls, and had known many of them for years;
for though other maids might come and go, Ellen, like the brook, went on
for ever. She had been a servant in the Phipps family, and had
accompanied "her young lady" when Holly House was bought and the school
first founded. Matron, nurse, general factotum, and refuge in time of
trouble, it would have been as easy to suspect her of duplicity as Miss
Phipps herself. She was wretched now because she feared that her
"children" might be in trouble, and her "children" knew it, and loved
her for her fear.
"I did, Miss Emily. It was lying just where it usually stands, with the
glass piled up in a little heap."
"It looked, then, as if someone had arranged it so? Not as if it had
been, say, blown over by any chance?"
"It couldn't have blown over, Miss Emily! It was too heavy. And it
wasn't near the window, either."
"And the pieces, you say, were gathered together, as if someone had
placed them so? Very well, I understand! Now, Ellen, have any of the
other maids been upstairs to your knowledge since Mademoiselle left her
room at seven o'clock?"
"They say they have not, miss, for I asked them, and I've been in the
kitchen all the time. We were busy clearing away after tea, and getting
the refreshments ready for supper, and then we came and watched the
young ladies dance."
"You would have noticed if anyone had gone upstairs?"
"I think I should, being together all the time. They have no work
upstairs at this hour--"
"I know that, but I must speak to them myself later on. There is one
thing more, Ellen. Your work upstairs takes you a good time. In
passing to and fro, you didn't happen to see anyone in or near
Mademoiselle's room, I suppose? Speak up, please! Remember I rely upon
you to do all in your power to help me to get to the bottom of this
mystery!"
The last words were added in a warning voice, for Ellen's start of
dismay and drawn, miserable brows too plainly betrayed the truth of her
mistress's surmise.
"I saw--when I went up first in the middle of the dancing, I was at the
end of the passage, and I saw little Miss O'Shaughnessy coming out of a
room. I couldn't be sure, but I _thought_ it was Mademoiselle's!"
She had said it, and in an instant every eye in the room was riveted
upon Pixie, and every heart sank woefully at the sight of her crimson,
agitated face. It said much for the hold which she had gained on her
companions' affections that at this moment the feeling in every girl's
breast was that she would prefer to find the culprit in almost any other
girl in the school than in dear, loving, kind-hearted Irish Pixie.
Perhaps Miss Phipps felt the same, but it did not become her to show
favouritism, and her voice was very stern and cold.
"Come here, Pixie, please! Stand before me! You have heard what Ellen
says! Was it Mademoiselle's room out of which you were coming?"
"It--was, Miss Phipps!" said Pixie, with a gulp; and a groan of dismay
sounded through the room, at which Miss Phipps's eyes sent out a
flashing glance.
"Silence, please! Leave this to me! Was it you who let the bottle fall
and broke it, then, though you would not acknowledge it when I asked
just now?"
Pixie's lips moved, but she seemed so paralysed with fear that she had
to repeat her words twice over before they could be heard.
"No, I--I didn't break it, Miss Phipps! I didn't break it!"
"Do you mean to say you know nothing about it? Did you not notice it
when you were in the room? May I ask what you were doing in that room
at all? You had no business in there."
"I--I--please, Miss Phipps, the gas was down; I didn't see anything!"
"I asked you, Pixie, what you were doing in that room?"
To the dismay of her companions, Pixie hung her head and refused to
answer, and, when the question was repeated, had no reason to offer but
a stammering, "It was nothing! I was doing nothing!"
"That is nonsense, Pixie; you would not go upstairs and into a strange
room, to-night of all nights, without a very definite reason. I insist
upon your telling me what you were doing. If it is nothing of which you
are ashamed, you need surely not hesitate to speak."
"I wasn't doing anything! I never touched it!" said Pixie once more,
and an expression came over her face which was well known to the
inhabitants of Bally William, though so far it was unfamiliar to her
companions--a dumb, obstinate look which promised little satisfaction to
the questioner.
"If you refuse to answer me, Pixie, it is your own fault if I suspect
you. You have been with us only a short time, but I have always
believed you to be truthful and straightforward. I should be sorry to
change my opinion, but you will have yourself to blame!" She paused and
looked down at the little black figure, and her face softened
regretfully. "You need not look so terrified, child. Mademoiselle is
naturally very grieved and distressed, but you know her well enough to
be sure that she would forgive you if you have unintentionally broken
her pretty bottle. She would be sorry to drive you into telling a
falsehood--wouldn't you, Mademoiselle?"
"I shall say nothing to her. My bottle is gone, and it can do no good
now. But she had no right to touch my things. My room is my own, and
she had no business there at all. I thought you were a good girl,
Pixie, and remembered what I had said to you. I did not think you would
grieve me like this. I have not so many treasures!"
Mademoiselle's tears trickled down afresh, and the girls began to look
askance at Pixie, and to feel the first incredulity give place to a
horrible doubt. Why wouldn't she speak? Why did she look so guilty?
Why need she have been so alarmed at the first mention of the accident
if she had no part in bringing it about? Margaret held out her hand
with an involuntary gesture of appeal, and Pixie, seeing it, shut her
lips more tightly than ever.
"You may go to your room, Pixie," said Miss Phipps coldly. "I am very
much disappointed in you!"
CHAPTER NINE.
DARK DAYS.
The three girls who shared Pixie's room were not forbidden to speak to
her when they went upstairs to bed, and their first impulse was to pull
aside the curtains of her cubicle, where she was discovered lying on the
top of the bed, still fully dressed, with features swollen and
disfigured with crying. She was shivering, too, and the hand which Kate
touched was so icy cold that she exclaimed in horrified reproach--
"Pixie, you are freezing! What do you mean by not getting into bed?
You will catch a chill, and then goodness knows what may happen! You
may go into consumption and die."
Pixie gave a dismal little sniff, and her teeth chattered together.
"That's what I thought. A girl at Bally William died of a chill, and
consumption's in our family. Me mother's cousin suffered from it every
winter. I want to die!"
"Here, sit up! I am going to unhook you. Dear me, what a mess you have
made of your fine collar! I don't know what Lottie will say when she
sees it. Lucky girl to be out to-night and escape all this fuss! She
always gets the best of things. I never wish to spend such an evening
again, I know that!"
"Pixie, why wouldn't you tell? Why wouldn't you answer Miss Phipps?"
cried Flora, unable to contain herself a moment longer; and Pixie drew
herself up, and tried to look dignified, a difficult achievement when
one is being forcibly undressed, and can hardly see out of red, swollen
eyelids.
"I told her I had not broken the bottle. I gave her a straight answer,
and that ought to be enough for any lady!"
"Don't talk such rubbish! This house is not yours, and if you go
wandering about into strange rooms, it is only right that you should be
made to explain. And it looks so bad when you refuse to answer. You
don't realise how bad it looks. After you left the room, Miss Phipps
asked if we had heard you say anything which would explain your going
into that room, and we all remembered--we didn't want to tell, but we
were obliged--we remembered that you said you intended to have a good
look at the scent-bottle."
"So I did, and I don't mind who you tell. I looked at it the very next
day, but I never lifted it once. I was too afraid I'd be hurting it,
and it was all right long after that--Mademoiselle said so herself!"