proudly conscious of having made a sensation, and it did seem hard to be
obliged to dispel it as soon as it was made! "There's nothing settled,
for, to tell you the truth, he has never so much as seen her yet, but
she was visiting old Biddy Gallagher when he drove past to the meet, and
at lunch says she, `He's the elegant creature, that duke! I'm thinking
of marrying him myself!' and took Bridgie's advice on the trousseau that
very afternoon. She says she won't be engaged until she is twenty-one,
and that it's a pity to unsettle him about it yet awhile, as there's
over two years to wait. He wouldn't want to wait if he saw her, for
she's more beautiful than anyone you ever saw out of a picture, though
it's himself I pity when the tantrums is on her. We often talk about
it, and plan how we will spend his money, and if you want to put her in
a good temper you've nothing to do but call her `Your Grace!'"
"I never heard anything so silly!" cried Ethel scornfully. Kate gave a
mild "He, he!" as she watched the process of hair-dressing in the
mirror, and reflected pensively that spectacles seemed strangely out of
keeping with evening dress. There was no doubt about it, she was
astonishingly plain, and oh, how nice it must be to be beautiful like
Esmeralda--so beautiful that even your own brothers and sisters admired
you! It was a natural longing, for every girl wishes to be attractive
to others, and feels a pang if obliged to realise that the tribute of
admiration can never be hers; but Kate was too sensible to grieve long
over impossibilities. "I shall have to be extra amiable to make up for
it, that's all!" she told herself philosophically, as she lifted the
hand-glass, and wriggled about before the glass to view the effect of
the new coiffure. It was most elaborate and hairdresser-windowish in
effect, and if it were not exactly becoming, that was perhaps more her
own misfortune than the fault of the operator, who had bestowed such
pains upon the erection. So she declared truthfully enough that she had
never felt so fine in her life, and threatened to sit at the piano the
whole of the evening, so that all beholders might have an opportunity of
admiring her "back hair."
Her toilet was now finished, but Ethel's bows were waiting to be tied
and smoothed out, and Flora had to be laced into her dress, and to be
consoled when again visited with the dread of finishing her career as
the fat woman in a show. Finally, the first bell for tea was heard
pealing downstairs, and away ran the three girls, leaving poor
Cinderella to tidy the cubicles, and almost forgetting to thank her for
her services; for in truth they had been so cheerfully rendered as to
appear a favour given, rather than received.
Left to herself, Pixie stole into the corridor and flattened herself
into a doorway to watch the gay figures descending the staircase. The
tidying away could wait for a few moments, but it was not often that one
had the opportunity of watching so festive a scene. Doors opened on
every side, and out they came, one girl after another, so smart and fine
that one could hardly recognise them for the blue-serged damsels of
ordinary school life. Down the stairs they tripped, with rustlings of
silk and crinklings of muslin, dainty white shoes, looking daintier than
ever against the well-worn carpet. Such a crowd of girls, and each one
looking brighter and happier than the one before. Lottie in white,
Margaret in blue, with her brown hair coiled round her head in a shining
chestnut coronet, one after another, until at last there was no one
left, and silence reigned in the corridor, broken only by a little sniff
and sigh from the shadow of a doorway. "And one little p-ig stayed at
h-ome," sighed Pixie, trying hard to laugh, and assiduously licking the
tears from her cheeks, as she hung school skirts in the cupboards, and
folded everyday garments on bedroom chairs, in readiness for use on the
following day.
"Now they are all sitting down and beginning to eat! There'll be
nothing but jam and cakes and elegant bread-and-butter--so thin you
might eat a plateful, and starve upon it! I wonder what they'll be
sending me upstairs. I couldn't look at a bit of plain food, but plum
cake would be medicine to me. Me digestion was always delicate.
Bridgie said so. `The child needs tempting!' I've heard her say, over
and over again, when the milk pudding came in at the door, and my
appetite went out. I must go to the schoolroom now, I suppose, for Miss
Phipps said I must be in my bed by seven. Ellen has the soft heart--I
wouldn't wonder if she brought me something nice to cheer me spirits!"
Buoyed up by this hope, she ran off to the classroom, and there was
Ellen herself at the door, looking at her with such kind, sorry-looking
eyes, as if there was nothing she would like better than to carry her
bodily downstairs.
"Your tea is ready, Miss Pixie. Miss Emily's orders were that I was not
to bring you any cake, but I have brought something else that you will
like better."
What could that be? Pixie rushed to the table, and oh, joy of joys,
there lay a big fat letter with the Bally William postmark in the
corner, and Bridgie's dear, well-known writing straggling over its
surface. No one in the world wrote such sweet letters as Bridgie, and
how dear of her to time this one to arrive at the moment of all others
when it was most desired! Pixie gloated over it with sparkling eyes,
kissed it, hugged it, poked at it with her fingers to discover exactly
how many sheets it might contain, and finally devoured it and the bread-
and-butter together in one long beam of delight.
"Littlest and dearest, do you want to see us all, and know what we are
doing? It is eight o'clock, and we have had three dinners in
succession, each lordly male waiting until the other had finished his
meal before he could resign himself to come indoors, and at the third
coming Molly sent for me to the kitchen to give warning for this day
month, which same I took smiling, for it's never a bribe she would take
to leave Knock Castle while an O'Shaughnessy was within its walls. It's
Pat that's sitting at the table now, eating apples and cracking nuts as
languid as if the day was his own, and Esmeralda frowning thunder at him
because she wants the table to draw a sketch for the newest picture,
which is to make all our fortunes yet. The Major is reading the
newspaper, and groaning aloud at every comma, because the Government has
no sense at all, and the only man who could put things straight is tied
by the heel by half a dozen children. The dogs are sitting in a circle
round Pat, watching every bite with such big, longing eyes, and myself
writing on my knee by the fire, with the ink on the fender,--looking
threatening at the rug! Says Esmeralda, `Five days more, and we shall
see her again,' meaning yourself, to whom I write. `Will she be grown,
I'm wondering! She's too small altogether, and yet we don't want our
Pixie changed. And the mimic she is! Wait till we hear the fine
English talk, and have her correcting us all, on account of our brogue!'
Then Pat must up and say there was no room for him and an English
accent in the Castle at the same time, and the Major rebuked him, and
asked was it for pleasure he paid as much for schooling as could be
spent sensibly on as fine a hunter as a man could wish, and besought us
all to put ourselves at your feet, and learn what you could teach us.
Then Esmeralda sighed and clasped her hands, and says she, `It's tired
to death I am of my own family, and longing to meet somebody who has
seen more of the world than Bally William. Couldn't we tell the Pixie
to bring home one of her friends with her, to divert us during the
Christmas holidays?' and at that we all called out together, for we have
been dull without you, little one, and looking forward to a frolic on
Christmas. Last year we were all too sad thinking of the dear mother,
but this year she will want to see us happy. I am sure she sees us, and
often and often when I sit alone sewing as she used to do, I think about
her, and feel she is near still, and it's only because my eyes are dim
that I can't see her. Well then, dearie, think over your friends, and
decide which it shall be! There's room at Castle Knock for anyone who
has been kind to its baby, and it won't be our fault if she hasn't a
happy memory of Old Ireland."
The letter went on for another sheet, but Pixie's mind was so full of
this new idea that she was hardly able to take in the words, on which
her eye rested. To take home a friend to Bally William! To give an
invitation on her own account, and be able to show the glories of the
dear old Castle! This was indeed a dazzling prospect, and the problem
of deciding which friend it should be kept her occupied even when tea
was over, and she was undergoing the humiliation of putting herself to
bed in the chilly little cubicle. Should it be Margaret? No; for
Margaret, with all her sweetness, had little sense of humour, and though
Pixie could not reason out the matter for herself, she yet realised
instinctively that she would be uncomfortable and out of place in the
haphazard atmosphere of the Irish household. Should it be Kate? No,
that would not do either, for at first sight Kate was not prepossessing,
and the Major and the boys would certainly take a dislike to her
straightway. Should it be Flora--dear, fat, good-tempered Flora? But
what fun Esmeralda would make of her, to be sure, and how helpless she
would be when attacked by the boys' badinage! Pixie grew quite tired
and sleepy puzzling out the question; her eyelids drooped down and down
until the lashes rested upon her cheeks, and her thoughts passed
unconsciously into dreams.
Meantime, in the large classroom downstairs the other thirty pupils were
enjoying themselves with a zest all the greater for the dullness of the
weeks which had gone before. The floor had been sponged with milk until
it was quite smooth and slippery, a table supplied with such
refreshments as lemonade, ginger-beer, and sweet biscuits, was placed
outside the door, and the violin pupils took it in turns to accompany
the piano, so that nothing was lacking to enhance the grandeur of the
occasion. Pretty little programmes were distributed around the room;
blue for the ladies, pink for the "gentlemen," and after each dance the
couples marched round and round the room, conversing together as if they
were at "a real party," and tabooing the affairs of ordinary school
life. Then the gentlemen deposited their partners on chairs, and
inquired, "May I bring you a little refreshment?" until the last drop of
lemonade was drained, and only crumbs remained in the cake-baskets.
They were all flushed and panting with the vigour with which they had
joined in the dance, and at last Miss Phipps thought it wise to call a
halt.
"Now, ladies and gentlemen, you must really sit down for ten minutes!"
she cried laughingly. "If you get so overheated, you will be catching
chills next, and I am sure you don't want to be invalided just before
the holidays. Come and take your places round the room, and we will ask
Lottie to dance her pretty scarf-dance for us, as she looks the only
cool member of the party. There's your scarf, dear, in that drawer, and
Miss Bruce will play for you. You dance so nicely that it is a pleasure
to see it."
Lottie blushed with pleasure at such words of praise, and took her place
in the centre of the room with smiling alacrity, and the watchers
whispered admiringly to each other as they looked at the dainty, satin-
clad figure. Lottie was not really pretty, but she was always so
charmingly dressed that she gave the effect of beauty, and to-night in
her gala frock she certainly looked her best. She danced gracefully and
modestly, waving her chiffon scarf in the air, and moving it to and fro
in a manner which looked easy enough, but which was in reality extremely
difficult, and required no little effort of strength, so that by the
time the dance was finished she was as flushed as her friends, and her
breath came in quick, short pants. Poof--how hot she felt, and how
tired! It was a relief to give the scarf into Mademoiselle's
outstretched hands, and be free to feel for a handkerchief with which to
wipe the moisture from her brow. There was a little difficulty in
finding her pocket, and the girls watched her fumbles with amused
attention. It was a little pause in the evening's entertainment, and
for want of something better to do all eyes were fixed upon the figure
which stood so prominently in the middle of the room. "Try again!" they
cried encouragingly, and Lottie made yet another dive downwards. This
time she was successful, for her hand disappeared into her pocket, and
presently jerked upwards, bringing with it a small lace handkerchief
rolled up into a ball, as if it had lain forgotten since the last time
that the dress was worn. She flicked it in the air, and at that
something flew out and clattered on the floor near her feet.
Mademoiselle stooped to pick it up, and threw up her hands with a cry of
dismay. It was a piece of glass, about half an inch in size, and in one
corner was clearly discernible the end of an engraved letter--the letter
"T!"
CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
EXPLANATIONS.
"Pixie, awake! awake! Oh, Pixie, open your eyes! Get up, dear, get up!
We want you downstairs!"
Margaret bent over Pixie's bedside, tears shining in her eyes, and
lifting the slight figure in her arms, shook it to and fro, until the
grey eyes opened in astonishment, and a sleepy voice murmured--
"Is't morning? Time get up?"
"Morning, no! It is not nine o'clock, and Miss Phipps thought you would
certainly be awake, with so much music going on; but it's no use, I must
wake you, whatever happens! Here's your dressing-gown. Here are your
bedroom slippers. You have to come downstairs with me this minute!"
"Am I the queen?" asked Pixie, waking up all in a moment, and peering
mischievously into Margaret's face. "When you are wakened up in the
middle of the night, and taken downstairs in your dressing-gown and
slippers, it's either a fire, or you are the queen, and the courtiers
are waiting to kiss your hand. You know it is, Margaret! You have seen
it in the pictures!"
"Yes, I've seen it? and perhaps there may be courtiers waiting for you,
Pixie; and kisses too, and a dear little crown to put on that shaggy
head! Great excitements have happened since you went to bed, and we
know now that it was not you who broke Mademoiselle's scent-bottle. We
are almost certain that it was Lottie herself, and Miss Phipps has sent
for you to help us!"
Pixie gave a start of dismay, and the laughter died out of her face,
leaving it scared and white. Her fingers tightened round Margaret's
arm, and she hung back trembling as they neared the schoolroom door.
Another moment and they stood within the threshold, looking round on
what seemed suddenly to have taken upon itself the aspect of a court of
justice. The girls were as before ranged round the walls, and at the
end of the room stood a row of teachers; Fraulein and Miss Bruce flushed
and excited, Mademoiselle with tears in her eyes, Miss Phipps with an
awful sternness of expression, which gave place to a momentary softness
as she looked at the new-comers. Pixie glanced at them all, one after
the other, and from them to the figure standing in the centre of the
room, like a prisoner at the bar, her face white as her dress, her eyes
full of terror and despair. She gave a sharp cry of distress, and
rushed forward with outstretched arms.
"Lottie, Lottie, I didn't tell! I never told--Lottie, Lottie, I kept my
word!"
A deep murmur sounded through the room as each hearer drew her breath in
a sob of mingled conviction and regret, and of all the number Lottie
seemed the most affected. She burst into a paroxysm of tears, clasped
Pixie in an hysterical embrace, then, thrusting her aside, turned
eagerly towards Miss Phipps.
"Oh, I will tell--I will! It was all my fault--Pixie had nothing to do
with it--I will tell you all about it."
"It is more than time, Lottie. Begin at once, and pray calm yourself
until you have finished!" returned Miss Phipps coldly; and Lottie wiped
away her tears, and struggled to keep back the rising sobs.
"It was the night of the term-holiday--I was going out--I was dressed
and going along the passage, and Mademoiselle's door stood open, and I
saw the light shining upon the gold of the scent-bottle. I had no scent
of my own, and I thought I would go in and take a little of
Mademoiselle's. I knew she would give it to me if I asked, and if I
told her next day there wouldn't be any harm. But I was in a hurry, and
I heard Pixie calling, and I put the bottle down too quickly, and the
glass struck the corner of the table and fell into pieces in my hand. I
was so frightened--and there was no time to think, for Pixie was running
along the passage, so I just mopped up the scent with my handkerchief,
and flew to the door. I suppose the piece of glass must have got in
then, for the handkerchief has never been out of my pocket until to-
night. Pixie said, `Oh, what a smell of scent!' and I said something--I
forget what--about its being rude to make remarks, and ran downstairs as
quickly as I could go. I was so wretched all the evening I didn't know
what to do. I thought when it was found out Pixie would be sure to
tell; but when I came home the girls all said how lucky I was to have
been out, for no one could suspect me, and I said nothing. And I saw
Mademoiselle crying, and I said nothing, and then I was afraid to speak,
for it was too late! Pixie came to me next morning and said, `Lottie,
they think I broke the bottle because I was the only girl in
Mademoiselle's room last night; but I know that you were there too, and
that you had been taking some scent!' and I begged and prayed her not to
tell anyone else. I was so confused that I let her see I had broken it,
but I said if she told I should get into trouble with my father, and she
promised at once. She was so willing, that I didn't feel as
uncomfortable as I expected, but I was miserable when everyone blamed
her, and she was punished. I comforted myself by thinking that I would
ask her to stay with me in the holidays, and make it up to her then.
She never told me what she was doing in Mademoiselle's room--I tried to
believe that she was really to blame. She might have cracked the
bottle, and that was why it broke so easily!"
"And so the best reward you could give to the friend who shielded you at
her own expense was to suspect her of deceit! That will do, Lottie!
You can go to your own room now. I will deal with you to-morrow. Now
we will hear what Pixie has to say!"
Miss Phipps paused impressively for a moment, and then spoke again in
tones so sweet and gentle that it was difficult to recognise them as
coming from the same voice which had spoken but a moment before.
"Pixie, you have heard Lottie's explanation. I will speak about that
later on, but now I have a favour to ask you. For my sake, dear--for
all our sakes--to help us to get at the whole truth of this unhappy
affair, I ask you to tell me frankly what you were doing in
Mademoiselle's room when Ellen saw you there?"
Pixie hung her head, and her cheeks grew am scarlet as the scarlet
dressing-gown itself. She lifted one little slippered foot and stood
perched on the other like a funny little ruffled stork in the midst of
the shining floor, and the watching faces of the girls were pretty to
see with their expressions of tender amusement and sympathy.
"Please, Miss Phipps," said Pixie hoarsely, "I was doing nothing. I was
only after putting in the hot bottle!"
Miss Phipps stared, Mademoiselle gave a sharp exclamation of surprise,
and turned impetuously to her Principal.
"The 'ot bottle! It is true. I 'ave one every night, but I thought
that Ellen--that one of the maids--"
"We have put no hot bottle in your bed, Mademoiselle. It is Miss
Emily's rule that any of the young ladies may have bottles of their own,
if they take the trouble to fill them in the bathroom as they go to bed,
and to put them back there in the morning. We never put one in a bed
unless in the case of illness," said Ellen, who stood in a corner of the
room, one of the most anxious and interested of the spectators; and at
that Miss Phipps turned once more to Pixie.
"Then are we to understand that it was your own bottle of which you are
talking? And what made you think of lending it to Mademoiselle?"
"She told me that she was always cold," said Pixie faintly. "I didn't
like to think of her lying there shivering. Bridgie gave me the bottle
when I came away in a little red flannel cover. `You're such a frog!'
says she, `maybe this will warm you,' but I just roll my feet in my
nightgown and hug them in my hands until they are warm. I thought
perhaps Mademoiselle couldn't do that. Ye can't bend so easy when
you're old, so she needed the bottle most."
"_Ma petite_!" cried Mademoiselle. "_Ma cherie_!"--and she would have
rushed forward and taken Pixie into her arms straight away, had not Miss
Phipps held her back with a restraining touch.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
PIXIE INTERCEDES.
"One more question, Pixie, and remember I place absolute reliance on
what you say, for you have given proof that you are to be trusted. You
heard Lottie's insinuation that you might have had some share in the
accident! Had you touched the scent-bottle at all that night?"
"I had not, Miss Phipps!" The grey eyes looked into the face of the
questioner with a steady light. "I never noticed it at all until the
girls began talking about it, and then said I, `I must have a look at
that bottle before I'm much older,' and so I did that very same evening,
but never a finger did I lay upon it. I put me hands behind me back and
just doubled meself over the table--like this!--looking at it all I
knew, but not daring as much as to breathe upon it, and from that hour I
was never within yards of its presence."
"I understand! But why, dear, have you refused to give us this simple
explanation all these weeks? It was surely only to your credit that you
had thought of Mademoiselle's comfort before your own, so there was no
reason for being so secret about it. Did you not see that it would have
helped your cause to have given this explanation?"
"I--didn't--like!" said Pixie, twisting her finger in and out in
embarrassed fashion. "It was this way--that first night you were all so
cross and so certain that it was me, because I had been in the room,
that I was shy about telling. You see Mademoiselle would have been
obliged to be pleased with me, and she wasn't feeling disposed to be
pleased just then, and it would seem as if I were trying to get off
blame, by boasting of what I'd done. I can't explain my feelings, but I
couldn't tell! The next day it would have been different, but Lottie
begged me not to say what I knew, and we never told tales of each other
at home. The boys would have been cut in pieces before they had rounded
on each other, so of course I had to give my word. It was very
miserable, because no one loved me, and in my home we have very
affectionate ways, the one with the other; but Lottie said it was only a
little time to the holidays, and after that all would be forgotten. She
did say she would ask me to visit her, and I wouldn't hurt her feelings
by saying No, so I just wrote and told Bridgie to say I couldn't be
spared, for I can't go anywhere but my own home. And she said her
father would be so angry with her if he knew, that never another happy
moment would she have, and I knew my people wouldn't mind!"
"And did you tell your people how unhappy you were? Did you tell them
what trouble you were in?" queried Miss Phipps softly, and at that Pixie
shook her head with great emphasis.
"I did not, Miss Phipps--I wouldn't dare! They would be so terribly
angry!"
"But you said a moment ago that they `wouldn't mind'! Then how could
they be angry with you, dear?" asked Miss Phipps, smiling, and Pixie
bent her head with a quick propitiatory bow.
"'Deed, it was yourself they would be angry with,--not me! If the two
Houses of Parliament were walking up to Knock Castle and telling them
that Pixie had told a lie and stuck to it for a month on end, they would
only be calling shame upon them, to have nothing better to do than take
away a lady's character, and the Major would say, `Twelve years have I
known her, and never the day that she wasn't up to her neck in mischief,
but no child of mine ever looked in my face and gave me the lie, and
Pixie's not the one to begin.' So never a word did I say, but just that
the examinations were coming on, and we were not allowed to go out."