their eyes. Ethel gave a toss to her curls, and walked off to her
cubicle. Kate went on unhooking with relentless haste, and Flora sat
down heavily on the edge of the bed, and melted into tears.
"I wish scent-bottles had never been invented! I wish that old marquise
had had more sense than to spend her money on a thing that would break
if you looked at it! I know how easy it would be. I've broken lots of
things myself. Mother always said to us when we were children, `Don't
be afraid to tell me if you've had an accident. I will never scold you
if you tell the truth, but if I find out that you have hidden anything
from me I shall be extremely angry.' Lots of girls tell stories just
because they are frightened, especially little ones, and when they are
strange, too, and don't know people well. But we all love you, Pixie,
really and truly we do! We won't turn against you. Oh, do tell! Do
tell! Tell Kate and me now before we go to bed, and we will help you
to-morrow."
"Will Miss Phipps talk to me again to-morrow? Will she be cross again?
Will Mademoiselle be cross?" cried Pixie fearfully. "Oh, what will I
do? What will I do? No one was ever cross with me at home. I'll run
away in the night and swim over to Ireland. They'd welcome me there if
I'd smashed all the scent-bottles in the world. I never meant to do any
harm. I didn't know it was wrong to go into Mademoiselle's room. No
one ever said I mustn't. Molly, our maid, broke something every day of
her life at Bally William, and no one disturbed themselves about it.
What's a scent-bottle? Suppose I _had_ broken it, why should they make
such a storm, I should like to know?"
Her sentences were broken by sobs and tears, and her companions had
learnt by now that Pixie's outbursts of grief were not to be trifled
with, for while other girls shed tears in a quiet and ladylike manner,
Pixie grew hysterical on the slightest pretext, and sobbed, and wailed,
and shivered, and shook, and drowned herself in tears until she was in a
condition of real physical collapse. To-night Kate signalled
imperiously to Flora to depart to her own cubicle, and herself bundled
the shaking, quivering little creature into bed, where she left her with
a "good-night" sufficiently sympathetic, but--oh, agonies to a sensitive
heart!--without attempting the kiss which had become a nightly
institution!
Next morning Pixie's face was still swollen and puffy, but her elastic
spirits had sufficiently recovered to enable her to make repeated
attempts to converse with her taciturn companions, and to run in and out
of their cubicles to play lady's-maid as usual, in such useful,
unostentatious ways as carrying water, folding nightgowns, and tying
hair ribbons. This morning she was even more assiduous than usual in
her attentions, for there was an edge of coldness and reserve in the
manner even of Flora herself which cut deeply into the sensitive heart.
Then when she had fully dressed, she gathered together Lottie's fineries
and betook herself to the room which that luxurious young lady occupied
in solitary splendour.
Early as she had been in leaving her cubicle, breakfast had already
begun when Pixie made her appearance downstairs, and the furtive manner
in which she entered the room, was not calculated to dispel the
suspicions, with which she was regarded. Her "good-morning" to the
teachers was a mere mumble, and oh, how formidable they looked! Miss
Phipps with tight lips and a back like a poker; Mademoiselle, a vision
of misery, and Fraulein and Miss Bruce staring at the tablecloth as if
afraid to raise their eyes. As for the girls, they munched away in
silence, no one daring to make a remark, and it was significant of the
solemnity of the occasion that not a single girl helped herself to
marmalade or jam. By the unwritten laws of the school it would have
been considered unfeeling to indulge in such luxuries while the
reputation of a companion was at stake. It was a ghastly occasion, and
Pixie seemed literally to shrink in stature as she cowered in her chair,
glancing to right and left with quick, terrified glances. The
hopefulness of the earlier morning had departed, and among all the
dejected faces round the table hers was conspicuously the worst.
There seemed a special meaning in the Bible reading that morning, and
when Miss Phipps laid aside the book she added a few words of her own
before kneeling in prayer. The sternness had left her face, but it was
very grave and sad.
"Before we kneel down together this morning, girls, there are some
thoughts which I would like to impress upon you all. We are in trouble,
and it behoves each one of us to ask in all earnestness that the cloud
may be lifted, and that courage and truthfulness may be given where it
is most needed. An accident, however regrettable, is not a serious
offence, but in this instance it has been turned into one by the refusal
of the culprit to acknowledge her offence. I have made every inquiry,
and it seems morally certain that one of you must know how it happened,
and be able to give a satisfactory explanation; and until she does so,
the shadow of her deceit must fall on all. I ask those of you who know
that they are blameless to pray for her who is guilty, that she may
acknowledge her fault, and for yourselves that you be preserved from
temptation; and I ask the guilty one to remember that God reads all
hearts, and although she may deceive her companions, she can hide
nothing from His eyes. And now we will kneel and pray, and let the
words which you say be no vain repetition, but the earnest cry of your
hearts that God will help us!"
Many of the girls had tears in their eyes as they rose from their knees,
and no one was surprised when, as they filed slowly towards the door,
Miss Phipps spoke again, to request Pixie O'Shaughnessy to follow her to
her private sanctum. Flora thrust her hand through Lottie's arm as they
went upstairs and heaved a sigh of funereal proportions.
"Poor little Pixie! Don't you pity her? Oh, Lottie, you are lucky to
have been out last night and escape all this bother! I wish I had had
an invitation too, and then, even if Pixie doesn't confess, no one could
possibly think that I had done it. Poor little thing! She is so scared
that she hardly knows what she is doing. Did you notice her face at
breakfast? Did you hear about the accident when you came in last night,
or who told you first?"
"I only saw the teachers last night, but Mademoiselle was crying, and I
knew something was wrong. Then Pixie came to my room this morning to
bring me back my collar, and she told me. It seems that she is
suspected because she won't tell why she was in Mademoiselle's room.
It's very stupid of her! There can't be any great mystery about it, one
would think, though she wouldn't tell even me; but if she says she
didn't break the bottle, I think she ought to be believed. She has
always been truthful, so far as we know."
"Yes, but then we haven't known her long, and she has never been in a
corner before. It is easy to tell the truth when all is going smoothly,
but it's rather dreadful when you know quite well you are going to be
punished; and if you let the first moment pass it's fifty times worse,
because then you have been deceitful as well. What I'm afraid of is
that she was too frightened to own up last night--you know what a scarey
little thing she is--and that now she is determined to be obstinate and
brave it out!"
Lottie hitched her shoulder with an impatient movement which drew her
arm free from her companion.
"Well, I'm fond of Pixie O'Shaughnessy, and I am going to stick to her,
whatever happens! It's mean of Mademoiselle to make such a fuss about
an accident which nobody could help. I'll buy her another scent-bottle
myself, if that will satisfy her. I have lots of money, and can get as
much more as I want. It's absurd making thirty people miserable for the
sake of a few pounds. I'll ask Miss Phipps if I may go into town and
buy one this very day."
"She wouldn't let you spend so much without your mother's consent, and
it's my belief Mademoiselle wouldn't take it if she did. It was the
association she liked, and you could not give her that. I'm fond of
Pixie too, but I shan't like her a bit if she gets us all into trouble,
and that's what it will mean if she is obstinate. We shall have all our
treats and holidays knocked off until the truth comes out. It is bound
to be discovered sooner or later, don't you think?"
"No, I don't! Lots of things are never discovered, and the holidays
will be here in a month, thank goodness! It will have to drop after
that, for it wouldn't be fair to drag the troubles of one term into the
next. I don't know what Margaret is going to do, but I shall be kind to
Pixie and try to help her!"
The girls had reached the schoolroom by this time and joined the group
by the fire, so that Margaret herself was able to reply.
"I shall certainly help her if I can," she said gently; but her
followers noticed that she avoided giving any opinion as to guilt or
innocence, and the reticence depressed them still further, for it was
unlike Margaret to refrain from speaking a good word if it was possible
to do so.
She was soon to have an opportunity of trying to help, however, for half
an hour later Miss Phipps called her out of class, and said sadly--
"I can make nothing of Pixie, Margaret. Will you try what you can do?
She seems afraid of me, though I have tried to be as forbearing as
possible, and perhaps she may speak more freely to a girl like herself.
So long as she refuses to say what she was doing in Mademoiselle's room
we cannot help believing her to be guilty. I am dreadfully upset about
it all, and should be so thankful to get at the truth. I have heard of
this kind of thing going on in other schools, but this is my first
experience, and I earnestly hope it will be the last. She is in my
snuggery. Go to her there, and see what your influence will do!"
Margaret went, and, at the first opening of the door, Pixie rushed into
her arms with a cry of joyous welcome.
"Oh, Margaret, I hoped you would come! I wanted you to come. I'm so
dreadfully miserable."
"So are we all, Pixie, but you can end the misery if you will only tell
us truthfully all you know about this accident. You do know something,
I feel certain, or why should you be so afraid to speak? It's no use
being afraid, dear. We all have to do difficult things sometimes,
whether we like them or not, and it will only get worse as time goes on.
The truth is bound to come out, and then how ashamed you will feel, if
you have not taken the opportunity while it was yours!"
"Do you think it will be found out, really?" Pixie shivered, and
twisted her fingers together in nervous fashion. "But how can it if I
don't tell, and if--if there is no one else?"
"I don't know, Pixie, but I believe it will, sooner or later. It may be
later, for God is very patient, and waits to give us our chance before
He takes things into His own hands. In the days when Jesus was on earth
He used to work miracles, but He doesn't do that any longer. I used to
be sorry for that, but I am not now, for it is so wonderful that He lets
us help Him by putting it into our hearts to do His will. He won't show
us in any miraculous way who is deceiving us now, but if she will listen
He will speak to her, and make it seem impossible to go on doing wrong."
"That's what Bridgie said!" agreed Pixie eagerly. "It was the night
before I came to school, and she was speaking to me for my good.
`You'll be far away from home,' she said, `but you never need be far
from Him, and He is your best friend. When you are happy and everything
is bright, thank Him for it, for it's a shame to be always asking,
asking, and never saying a "Thank you" for what you receive. And when
you are undecided between two ways, take the one that's hardest, for
that was what He meant by bearing the cross; and when you are in
trouble, keep still,' she says, `keep still, and you'll hear His voice
in your heart.' And I was thinking of that last night, and I could hear
Bridgie saying it all over again, as plain as if she were by my side!"
"And the other voice, Pixie--did you hear that too?"
"I tried to, but,"--the small troubled face was pitiful to behold--"it
seemed always to say the things I wanted, and I was afraid I was
imagining. Then I remembered about doing the hardest thing, and every
time I awoke I thought of it again, and this morning I decided that I
would!"
"Pixie!" cried Margaret, in a tone of almost incredulous relief. "Oh,
Pixie, you will really! I am so glad, so glad! You will come with me
to Miss Phipps now, and tell all you know!"
But Pixie shook her head firmly, and her lips closed in determined
lines.
"I will never tell," she said. "I'll be silent for ever!"
CHAPTER TEN.
AN ARMISTICE.
A week passed by, and the mystery was no nearer being unravelled than on
the first evening, though every possible means had been taken to
discover the offender. At the beginning of the time the general feeling
had been in favour of Pixie, but girls are very human creatures, and as
the days passed by and they suffered for her silence, a feeling of
resentment began to grow against her. Why should all the school be
suspected because one girl refused to tell what she knew? What was the
use of pretending to be so kind and helpful, if you would not sacrifice
your pride for your friends' comfort? If Pixie were innocent, why
should she be afraid to answer questions? But, really--and then the
heads would draw close together, and the voices drop to a whisper--
really she looked so wretched and ashamed, that one began to wonder if
she could be innocent after all! A whole week, and she had not once
been in mischief. Didn't that look as if something was on her mind?
While as for funny stories, she was as dull as Clara herself; and it was
impossible to say anything more scathing than that!
After Margaret's failure no more personal efforts had been made to
induce Pixie to confess; but at the end of a week the anticipated blow
fell, for Miss Phipps addressed the assembled school and announced her
intention of confiscating holidays until the end of the term.
"I am sorry to punish the innocent with the guilty," she said, "but I
hope that the consciousness that she is depriving her companions of
their enjoyment may have more influence with the culprit, whoever she
may be, than any words of mine. I don't think it is right to deprive
your teachers of their much-needed rest, so on Wednesdays and Saturdays
you will have extra preparation during the hours which would otherwise
have been your own. Of course no invitations can be accepted. I have
written to your brother, Pixie, to say that you will not be able to go
out with him on Saturday, as arranged."
Pixie's cry of dismay was drowned by the general groan, which swelled
ever louder and louder as Miss Phipps left the room. The younger girls
looked inclined to cry, one or two stamped on the floor with
irrepressible anger, and there was a very babel of indignation.
"I told you so! What did I say? As if we hadn't enough to do without
slaving six hours more! I know what it will be now--I shall get so worn
out that I shall fail in my examination."
"Preparation! More prep! I call that adding insult to injury. If it
had been a class, I wouldn't have minded half so much. I'm sick and
tired of school. I'll ask my mother if I may leave the day I am
seventeen."
"And I was going out on Wednesday! I had an invitation this morning,
and was going to tell Miss Phipps after tea. I may as well write and
say I can't go, and it would have been so nice too. I should have had
such fun!"
"Jack was going to take me to the s-s-circus! I've never seen a clown
in all me days! I was c-counting the hours!" stammered Pixie tearfully;
and at the sound of her voice, as at a signal, all the girls stopped
talking and fixed their eyes upon her. She looked pitiful enough with
the tears streaming down her cheeks, but there was not much sympathy in
the watching faces, and for the first time the growing resentment forced
itself into words.
"You have only yourself to blame," Kate said coldly. "If you had spoken
up and told all you knew about that horrible night, it would have been
forgotten by this time. I believe Mademoiselle is sorry already that
she made such a fuss, but Miss Phipps won't rest until she has found out
what she wants. If you _will_ be obstinate, you must expect to be
punished, but it's hard lines on the rest of us who have done nothing
wrong."
"And we were all so kind to you, Pixie O'Shaughnessy, and made a regular
pet of you--you know we did! We helped you like angels when you
couldn't do your lessons. I've been in this school five years, and I've
never seen a new girl made such a fuss of before. I call you an
ungrateful serpent to turn and rend us like this."
"Clowns indeed! I should think you have something else to think of than
clowns! Do you realise that thirty girls are losing their fun for three
whole weeks because you won't speak? If you had any nice feeling, you
would be too miserable for clowns."
"Oh, Pixie, I've such a smashing headache! You might tell! I was so
looking forward to a rest this afternoon. It makes the week so
dreadfully, dreadfully long when there are no holidays!"
Flora's voice was full of tears, and Pixie's miserable glance, roving
from one speaker to another, grew suddenly eager as it rested upon her,
for she was skilled in the treatment of headaches, and was never more
happy than when officiating as nurse.
"I'll lend ye my smelling-bottle. It's awful strong! Ye said yourself
the last time you smelt it ye forgot all about the pain. Will I run up
this minute, and bring it for you?"
"No, thank you!" Flora's tone was almost as cold as Kate's. "I don't
want your loans. Smelling-bottles are no good to me if I have to rack
my brains all the afternoon. You needn't pretend to be sorry, for if
you were you could soon cure me. Come along, girls, let's go upstairs!
It is no use talking to her any longer."
The girls linked arms and filed to the door, only Lottie lingering
behind to thrust her hand encouragingly through Pixie's arm. Kate,
standing near, caught the whispered words of consolation. "You shall go
to the circus in the holidays. I'll ask you to stay with me, and we
will go somewhere nice every afternoon!"--and told herself reproachfully
that Lottie was more forgiving than herself.
"I don't feel in the least inclined to offer her treats, though I'm
sorry for her all the same. She does look such a woe-begone little
wretch! It's my belief she thought it was a good opportunity to examine
the scent-bottle when we were all upstairs, and that she put it down too
roughly or let it slip from her hands and hadn't the nerve to own up at
once. I don't wonder she is afraid to confess now; I should be myself.
You don't know what might happen--you might even be expelled! I don't
believe Miss Phipps would keep a girl who was so mean as to make all the
school suffer rather than face a scolding. There's one thing certain,
I'm not going to have Pixie O'Shaughnessy fagging for me until this
business is cleared up! I have tied my own hair bows before and can do
them again, and I shall tell Flora and Ethel not to allow her in their
cubicles either. If she is untruthful, how are we to know that she
might not be dishonest next!"
There is no truer proverb than that which says, "Give a dog a bad name
and hang him!" for it is certain that when once we begin to harbour
suspicion, a dozen little actions and coincidences arise to strengthen
us in our convictions.
It is also true that no judges are so unflinching as very young people,
who set a hard line between right and wrong, and are unwilling to
acknowledge the existence of extenuating circumstances. During the next
few weeks Pixie was sent to Coventry by her companions, to her own
unutterable grief and confusion. No one offered to help her with
difficult lessons; no one invited her to be a companion in the daily
crocodile; no one made room for her when she entered a room; on the
contrary, she was avoided as if her very presence were infectious, and
when she spoke a silence fell over the room, and several moments elapsed
before a cold, stern voice would vouchsafe a monosyllabic answer. She
was at the bottom of her classes too, being unable to learn in this
atmosphere of displeasure, and the governess's strictures had in them a
touch of unusual severity.
Curiously enough, it was Mademoiselle herself who showed most sympathy
with Pixie during those dark days. Like most people of impulsive
temperament, she had quick reactions of feeling, and after having
stormed and bewailed for a couple of days, she began to regret the gloom
into which she had plunged the school. She had been fond of the droll
little Irish girl, and, though convinced of her guilt, feared lest her
own unbridled anger had frightened a sensitive child into a denial
difficult to retract.
It happened one day that governess and pupil were alike suffering from
cold and unable to go out for the usual walk, and the impressionable
French heart went out in a wave of pity, as its owner entered the
deserted schoolroom and found Pixie seated alone by the fire, her hands
folded listlessly on her lap, a very Cinderella of misery and dejection.
When the door opened she looked up with that shrinking expression of
dread which is so pitiful to see on a young face, for to be left _tete-
a-tete_ with Mademoiselle seemed under the circumstances the most
terrible thing that could happen. Her head drooped forward over her
chest, and she stared fixedly at the floor while Mademoiselle seated
herself on a chair close by and stared at her with curious eyes.
Surely the ugly little face was smaller, the figure more absurdly minute
than of yore! The black dress with its folds of rusty crape added to
the pathos of the picture, and awoke remembrances of the dead mother who
would never comfort her baby again, nor point out the right way with
wise, tender words. Mademoiselle's thoughts went back to her own past,
when, if the truth must be told, she had been an exceedingly naughty
child; and she realised that it was not coldness and severity which had
wrought the most good, but the tender patience and affection of the
kindest of parents. What if they had been trying the wrong course with
Pixie O'Shaughnessy? What if suspicion and avoidance were but hardening
the child's heart and hastening her path downwards? Mademoiselle
cleared her throat and said in the softest tone which she could
command--
"_Eh bien_, Pixie! What are you doing sitting here all by yourself?"
"I'm thinking, Mademoiselle."
"And what are you thinking about then? Tell me your thoughts for a
penny, as you girls say to each other!"
"I'm thinking of Foxe's martyrs!" was Pixie's somewhat startling reply.
Her face had lightened with immeasurable relief at the sound of the
friendly voice, and the talkative tongue once loosened could not resist
the temptation to enlarge on the reply. "We have the book at home. Did
ye ever see it, Mademoiselle? It's got lovely pictures! There's one
man lying down and they are pinching him with hot tongs, and another
being stoned, and another being boiled in oil. They were so brave that
they never screeched out, but only sang hymns, and prayed beautiful
prayers. I used to long to be a martyr too, but I don't any more now,
for I know I couldn't bear it, but it cheers me up to think about them.
Bridgie says there's nothing so bad but it might be worse, and I was
thinking that they were worse off than me. I'd rather even that the
girls wouldn't speak to me than boiling oil--wouldn't you,
Mademoiselle?"
"I would indeed!" replied Mademoiselle fervently. "But what a subject
to think about on a dull grey day! No wonder you look miserable! You
need not think about boiling oil just now at all events, for I have to
stay in too, and I have come to sit here and talk to you. Will that
make you feel a little bit less miserable?"
"Now that depends upon what ye talk about, Mademoiselle," said Pixie,
with that air of quaint candour which her companions had been wont to
find so amusing; and Mademoiselle first smiled, and then looked grave
enough.
"I am not going to question you about your trouble, if you mean that,
Pixie. It is Miss Phipps's affair now, not mine. I wish you had been
more outspoken, but I am not going to scold you again. You are being
punished already, and I feel sorry to see you so grave and to hear no
more laughs and jokes. Shall we 'ave what they call an armistice, and
talk together as we used to do when we were very good friends?"