pride in me hands; they are the only ones I have, and what's the use of
sleeping in white kid gloves, the same as if I were dressed for a party,
if they are to be scratched all over with that hateful holly?"
Esmeralda stretched out two well-shaped, if somewhat large, hands, and
gazed at them with pensive admiration; but Bridgie was firm, and,
scratches or no scratches, insisted that she should take her own share
of the work. As soon as tea was over, then, the family descended to the
servants' hall, a whitewashed apartment about as cheerful as a vault,
and but little warmer despite the big peat fire, where they set to work
to reduce a stack of evergreens into wreaths and borderings for cotton
wool "Merrie Christmases" and "Happy Newe Yeares" reserved from former
occasions.
Pat and Miles cut the branches into smaller and more workable
proportions. Pixie unravelled string and wire, and the three elders
worked steadily at their separate wreaths. At the end of an hour they
had progressed so well that it was suggested that the three fragments
should be tied together, and the wreath hung in the hall, to clear the
room for further operations.
The suggestion being universally approved, a stormy half-hour followed,
when each of the five O'Shaughnessys harangued the others concerning the
superiority of his or her own plan of decoration, and precious lives
were imperilled on the oldest and shakiest of step-ladders. The boys
could naturally mount to the highest step without a fear, but, when
mounted, were so clumsy and inartistic in their arrangements that they
were called down with derisive cries, and retired to sulk in a corner.
Then Bridgie lifted her skirt and gallantly ascended five steps, felt
the boards sway beneath her, and scuttled down to make way for her
sister. The daring rider across country possessed stronger nerves, but
also a heavier body, and the ladder creaked so ominously beneath her
that she insisted upon the whole company acting as props, in one breath
sending them running for hammer and rope, and in the next shrieking to
them to return to their posts.
By the time that the wreath was really hung, the friction had reached
such a pitch that Mademoiselle expected a state of civil war for the
rest of the evening, and even wondered if the atmosphere would have time
to clear before Christmas itself. She could hardly believe the evidence
of her senses when the boys affably volunteered to clear away the
rubbish, and Bridgie and Esmeralda went upstairs with wreathed arms,
calling one another "Darling" and "Love," with the echo of sharp taunt
and sharper reply still ringing in the air! Certainly, if the Irish
tongue were quick, the heart seemed even quicker to forgive an enemy, or
pardon an offence.
By the time that Mademoiselle retired to bed that night the last remnant
of strangeness had vanished, and she felt like a lifelong friend and
confidante. She had seen the menu for the Christmas dinner, and had
helped to manufacture jellies and creams, while Pixie perched upon the
dresser, industriously scraping basins of their sweet, lemony, creamy
leavings, with the aid of a teaspoon and an occasional surreptitious
finger when her sisters were looking in an opposite direction. She
suggested and achieved such marvels in the way of garnishing that Molly
was greatly impressed, being a very plain cook in more ways than one,
and solemnly asked for advice upon the killing of turkeys, when
Mademoiselle had to acknowledge ignorance, and lost caste forthwith.
Then Esmeralda invited her to a display of evening dresses in her
bedroom, and wished to know which she should wear--the black silk with
the net top, or the net top over a white skirt, or the black silk with
no top at all, and Bridgie plaintively appealed to her for the casting
vote on the great question of crackers or no crackers!
It was certainly a curious mingling of grandeur and poverty, this life
in the half-ruined Castle, with its magnificent tapestries and carvings,
its evidences of bygone splendour, and, alas! present-day parsimony.
The little house at Passy could have been put down inside the great
entrance hall, but it was a trim little habitation, where on a minute
scale all the refinements and niceties of life were observed, and income
and expenditure were so well balanced that there was always a margin to
the good; but the Misses O'Shaughnessy, who bore themselves as queens in
the neighbourhood, and were treated with truly loyal deference, owned
hardly a decent gown between them, and were seriously exercised about
spending an extra half-crown on a Christmas dinner!
"It's the trifles that mount up! I am a miser about pennies, but I can
spend pounds with the best!" Bridgie explained; and Mademoiselle smiled
meaningly, for had not the order just gone forth that the Castle was to
be "illumined" once more for the arrival of the son and heir?
On Christmas Eve the rain fell in torrents, and, after a morning spent
in preparations of one sort and another, the workers felt the need of a
little amusing recreation. This did not seem easy to achieve, in this
lonely habitation set in the midst of a rain-swept plain, but Bridgie's
fertile brain came to the rescue, and proposed a scheme which kept the
young people busy for the rest of the afternoon.
"I vote we have a fancy-dress dinner to-night!" she cried, at the
conclusion of lunch. "Not an ordinary affair, but like the one the
Pegrams enjoyed so much when they were spending the winter in
Grindelwald. `A sheet and pillow-case party,' they called it, for that
is all you have out of which to make your dress. I will open the linen-
box and give you each a pair of sheets, and a pillow-case for head-gear,
and you must arrange them in your own rooms, and not let anyone see you
until the gong rings. It really will be quite pretty--all the white
figures against the flags and holly, and we shall feel more festive than
in our ordinary clothes. I think it will be great fun, don't you?"
Great fun indeed! The O'Shaughnessy family was always ready for any
excitement, and particularly so at Christmas-time, a season when we all
feel that we _ought_ to be festive, and are injured in our minds if
there is nothing to make us so.
Esmeralda fell at once to pleating her table-napkin into one shape after
another, Mademoiselle smiled over a happy inspiration, whereupon wily
Pat put on his most angelic look and asked--
"Will you dress me, Mademoiselle? A man's no good at this sort of
thing. You can't fasten sheets with screws, and I'm no hand at fancy
stitching. I've an idea I'd look rather well as--" He whispered a few
words in her ear, and Mademoiselle threw up her hands, and laughed, and
nodded in emphatic assent.
Pixie and Miles fell to Bridgie's share, while the Major declared that
he would have nothing to do with such foolishness, but with a ruminating
expression on his face which belied the words.
Bridgie went upstairs immediately after lunch, and, opening her linen-
chest, apportioned its contents among the different members of the
family. Some wanted large sheets, some wanted small; some begged for
frills to their pillow-cases, some preferred plain; but at last all were
satisfied, and were further supplied with tape from the various work-
baskets, while Pixie was sent a round of the bedrooms to pick up the
pins, with which the floors were liberally scattered, as the demand in
this direction was so large as to be practically unlimited.
Esmeralda flew off at once, with the boys in her train; but Mademoiselle
lingered to help Bridgie to fold away the linen that was not needed, and
to enjoy the luxury of a quiet chat, which was not an easy thing to
accomplish in this noisy household. Bridgie in company was always
laughing and gay, but the visitor had already noticed that Bridgie alone
was apt to grow grave and to wear a wistful pucker on her brow. It was
there now as she locked the chest and sat down on the lid, stretching
out her arms with a sigh of weariness. The wintry light left the
gallery full of shadows, and the only bright thing to be seen was the
girl's own golden head outlined against the oak walls. Mademoiselle
thought that if she had been an artist she could have wished for no
fairer picture than this old-world corridor, with the fair face of the
young mistress shining out like a lily in the darkness; but the lily
toiled more than she liked to see, and she could not restrain a protest
against the custom which gave one sister all the work, and another all
the play.
"You are tired already before the day is half over, and now you have
those children's dresses to look after as well as your own! Why do you
not make Esmeralda help, instead of doing everything yourself?"
"Esmeralda, is it?" Bridgie's face lit up with a smile as she repeated
the name. "Indeed now, Mademoiselle, I'm never worked so hard in my
life as when Esmeralda has been trying to help, and I have to tidy away
after her! She has the best will in the world, poor thing; but work
doesn't come naturally to her. You mustn't be hard on her. She shows
her worst side to a stranger, for, though her first impulse may be
selfish, when she takes time to think, she is all generosity and
kindness. That habit, now! She was longing to have a fitted bodice,
but she chose a coat, out of consideration for me. She is a darling,
and so young yet that I don't like to worry her. Let her have a good
time as long as she may. It will be hard enough soon."
Mademoiselle started and looked alarmed questionings, and Bridgie smiled
in response, saying in cool, conversational tones--
"We are ruined, you know! We can't go on living here much longer.
Father has spent all his money, and we should have had to leave before
now, but that he came into a little more at mother's death. It was not
much, and it is going very fast. It can't be more than a year or two at
most before the crash comes, so you can't wonder I let the boys and
girls enjoy themselves, can you?"
"_Mais oui_! I wonder very much!" cried Mademoiselle, dismayed at what
seemed to her prudent mind such a fatal way of preparing for a
difficulty. "The kind thing surely would be to prepare them for what
will come. It will make it more hard if they have never known work. In
three years one can do much to prepare for a struggle. Why do you not
speak to your sister, and say it is time to stop play? Why do you not
send her away to work, and then perhaps the bad day need never come
after all?"
Bridgie looked surprised, almost shocked at the suggestion. The easy-
going Irish nature saw things in a different light from that taken by
the thrifty Frenchwoman; moreover, the idea of girls working for
themselves was still viewed as decidedly _infra dig_ by the old-
fashioned inhabitants of Bally William. She gasped at the thought of
her father's wrath at such a suggestion, then laughed at the idea of
Esmeralda's earnings being large enough to stave off the coming ruin.
"I'm afraid it would be taking more than that to prevent it, Therese!
You don't know the state our landlords are in over here. There's no
money to be got at all, and things go from bad to worse. Until mother
died I didn't know how poor we were, and at first I wore myself to
pieces saving pennies here and halfpennies there; but there's not much
fun in saving twopence when nothing less than thousands of pounds would
do any good. I grew tired of it, and says I to myself, `A short life,
and a merry one!' If I can't help, I'll just put the thought from my
mind, and give the young ones a good time to remember. No use troubling
the creatures before it's necessary!"
Mademoiselle grunted in eloquent disapproval, and wished to know whether
the master of the house had been equally philosophical.
"Is it the Major?" cried Bridgie, laughing. "He never troubles himself
about anything, and he has it all fitted up like a puzzle. Esmeralda is
to marry a duke, Jack a countess in her own right, and meself a
millionaire manufacturer, who will be so flattered at marrying an
O'Shaughnessy that he will be proud to house Pixie into the bargain.
Pat and Miles are to go to London to seek their fortunes, and the Castle
is to be let--to Jack and his wife by preference, but, failing them, to
anyone who offers, when the Major can keep himself and his hunters on
the rental without a `Thank you' to anyone. It works out so beautifully
when you hear him talk, that it seems folly to trouble oneself
beforehand."
"And suppose you don't marry? Your country is full of old maids. And
suppose the Castle does not let? It is very far from--anywhere!" said
Mademoiselle, who had lived in the gayest city in the world, and felt
the solitude of Bally William only a degree less absolute than that of
the backwoods themselves. "Suppose none of these things of which you
speak were to 'appen, what then?"
"Indeed, I can't tell you!" returned Bridgie, truthfully enough. "And--
excuse me, me love, it's not a very diverting suggestion for the time of
year! Let me keep my millionaire, if it's only for the day, for by the
same token I'm quite attached to him in prospect! Will you come and
visit me, Therese, when I'm comfortably established in my soap bubble?"
She was laughing again, full of mischief and wilful impracticability,
and Mademoiselle was tactful enough to realise that the time was not apt
for pressing her lesson further. Later on she would return to the
charge, but to-day at least might be safely given over to enjoyment.
CHAPTER NINETEEN.
PAT'S TAUNT.
When the gong sounded that night two white-robed figures stole out of
Mademoiselle's room, and crept quietly along the gallery. Pat was
arrayed as a knight of old, wearing a pair of Esmeralda's old white
stockings, surmounted by loose linen trunks, the rest of the sheet being
ingeniously swathed round his body, and kept in place by such an
elaborate cris-crossing of tape as gave the effect of a slashed doublet.
A thickly pleated cloak, (made out of sheet number two), hung over his
shoulders, and the pillow-case was drawn into a cap, which was placed
jauntily on the side of his head. As handsome a young knight as one
could wish to see was Mr Patrick O'Shaughnessy, and the manner in which
he held Mademoiselle's hand, and led her down the great staircase,
evoked thunders of applause from the watchers beneath.
Mademoiselle herself looked worthy of her squire, for her dark, animated
face stood the test of the unrelieved whiteness so successfully, that
she was all ablush with delight at the discovery that she was not an old
woman after all, but on occasion could still look as girlish as she
felt. She was attired as a Normandy peasant, with turned-back skirt and
loose white bodice; but the feature of the costume was undoubtedly the
cap, which looked so extraordinarily like the real article that the
sceptical refused to believe in its pillow-case origin, until the
buttonholes were exhibited in evidence.
"It is wonderful--wonderful! But how have you made it so stiff and
crinkly?" the Major inquired curiously; and Mademoiselle laughed in
gleeful triumph.
"I 'ave curled it with the curling tongs--not perhaps curl, but what the
washerwoman would say--`goffer,' and for the rest, can you not see the
wire? It is a piece I have taken upstairs after the decorations, and it
is stitched in to keep the folds in place; but I must keep my 'ead
still, for it is not too strong. You are very fine too, sir. You are,
I suppose, some old patrician?"
"Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears!" declaimed the Major,
throwing his arms about with impassioned gestures. His white toga fell
in graceful folds round his tall figure; his arms were bared to the
elbows; he wore a twisted turban, which was impressive, if not exactly
appropriate; and it was really an imposing spectacle to behold him
strutting up and down the hall, with a great display of sandalled feet,
of which he was evidently immensely proud.
Bridgie sat demurely on a high-backed chair, a sweet-faced nun, with her
golden hair hidden from sight, and her dark-lashed eyes looking lovelier
than ever when contrasted with the white bands across her forehead. She
had been so busy dressing others that she had had no time to plan
anything more elaborate for herself; but if she had worked for days she
could not have hit on a costume more becoming to her style of beauty.
It was scarcely in character, however, to shriek aloud with laughter, as
she did a moment later, as Mark Antony was suddenly arrested on his
march by an apparition which leapt forward from behind a screen, and
advanced upon him to an accompaniment of unearthly groanings.
Miles as a ghost was certainly an eerie figure; for by means of a stick
strapped to his back the sheet was raised to an abnormal altitude, while
a couple of tennis rackets held in either hand, made extended wings,
with which to swoop about, and raise warning signals to the onlookers.
He chased Mark Antony until that classic gentleman threatened fight with
a poker; when he amused himself by groaning vigorously at Pixie, who had
been attired as a "Lady in Waiting"--not, it must be confessed, with any
striking success; and who was somewhat ruffled in her temper through
constant trippings over her train.
"Ye stupid thing!" she cried crossly. "Be over hooting at me! If you
are a bogie, you can go and haunt by yourself, and not molest your
betters! It's the worst dress of the lot. Nothing but three sticks and
the sheets in knots. You had better rest yourself a bit, and groan
while we are at dinner, for your head is covered up that tight that
you'll never be able to eat!"
"Trust me!" cried Miles, and somewhere about the middle of the ghost the
white folds parted, and out peered a crimson face with twinkling eyes,
and a mat of damp curls falling over the forehead. "You don't catch me
taking any part which interfered with eating! Contrariwise--I'm best
off of you all, for I have just to drop my sticks, and--there I am! The
sheet falls down, and I eat my dinner in comfort, instead of being
stewed alive, as you will be before it's half over."
"That's true for you! I feel as if I had mumps already!" sighed the nun
sadly; but the next moment she gave a cry of delight, and pointed
eagerly across the hall.
"Esmeralda! Oh, look! look!"
There had been so much to see and admire that the absence of the second
daughter of the house had not been noticed; but even as Bridgie spoke
each one realised that her late arrival was just what might have been
expected. The beautiful Miss O'Shaughnessy had preferred to be sure of
her audience before appearing upon the stage; for, to judge by the
continuous rumble of the sewing-machine which had sounded from her room,
she had bestowed no little pains upon her costume.
Great expectations are apt to be disappointed; but in this instance it
is safe to say that the reality exceeded the wildest dreams, for it was
almost impossible to believe that this charming figure owed her attire
to no more promising materials than ordinary bed-linen! Esmeralda had
aimed at nothing less ambitious than a Watteau costume, and the rumbling
of the machine was accounted for by one glance at the elaborately
quilted petticoat. She had folded a blanket between the double sheet,
so as to give the effect of wadding, and an ancient crinoline held out
the folds with old-world effect. For the rest she wore the orthodox
panniers on the hips, and a bodice swathed as artistically as might be,
round the beautiful bare neck and arms. Her hair was dressed high and
powdered, and the pillow-case was drawn into the shape of a hood which
dangled lightly over her arm. Half-way down the staircase she came to a
stand, and stood sunning herself in the applause of the beholders, then
came slowly forward, and, standing in the middle of the floor, revolved
slowly round and round, so as to display every feature of her costume.
It was certainly a marvel of ingenuity, and amidst the general chorus of
praise, Mademoiselle could not refrain from improving the occasion by
remarking that such a good needlewoman should have no difficulty in
turning dressmaker for her own and her sisters' benefit. The reply to
this insinuation was a threatening grimace, and Esmeralda made haste to
draw her father's attention to another topic.
"Aren't you proud of me now, father dear, and cut to the heart to think
that no one will see me but yourself? Sure it's a crime to waste all
this splendour on the desert air!"--and she rolled her eyes at him with
a languishing glance, and smiled so bewitchingly, that the Major rubbed
his hands in delight, and fell unhesitatingly into the snare.
"Faith, and you're right! It's a perfect crime. We should have asked
some of the neighbours to see you. Bridgie, why did you not think of
that, now? We might have had a pleasant little party to amuse your
friend, instead of taking all this trouble for nothing!"
"Not on two days' invitation, father, and besides, Jack is not here yet.
While he is at home, perhaps--"
"Yes, father, on New Year's Eve! Give us leave to ask some people on
New Year's Eve, and we will plan such a wonderful programme as will be
the talk for miles around. I'm brimful of ideas, and we have not had
any sort of entertainment for two years now. Say we may ask them, won't
you, dear?"
But at this the Major began to look uneasy, for it was one thing to find
fault with Bridgie for not having given an invitation in the past, and
quite another to be asked to sanction a fresh one in the future.
"Who will you be wanting to ask?" he queried anxiously. "Never did I
meet such an exacting child! My mouth's no sooner opened than you are
ready to jump inside! `A wonderful programme,' says she. And who's to
pay for it, may I ask? You would ruin me between you, you children, if
I hadn't saved you the trouble long ago. How much will this
entertainment be costing me now?"
"Oh, twopence halfpenny! Not more than that. We will kill the old
turkey, that is so tough that he is fairly pleading to be killed, and
use up the dessert from Christmas, and Mademoiselle shall make us some
of her fine French dishes, and there will be so much going on that there
will be very little time to eat. Make your mind easy, and trust to me."
"I'll see you through!" cried Esmeralda grandly; whereupon the Major
shrugged his shoulders, and reflected cheerfully that a few pounds more
or less made little difference. Let the girl have her way! she had been
kept too long in seclusion as it was, and what was the use of possessing
the most beautiful daughter in the county if you could not show her off
to your friends once in a while?
Silence was rightly interpreted as consent, and having gained her point,
Esmeralda was wreathed in smiles and amiability for the rest of the
evening.
The Major dispensed with his toga at an early hour, and Nun and Ghost
alike shed their wrappings and appeared in ordinary evening dress; but
Esmeralda was too complacently conscious of looking her best to make any
change in her attire. Dinner passed hilariously enough, and then, the
rain having ceased, the Major put on his coat and went out for a walk in
the grounds, while the ladies retired to their snuggery upstairs and
made themselves comfortable round the fire. To them entered presently
Master Pat, white knight no longer, but an ordinary shabby stripling
with pensive eyes and an innocent expression. He sat himself down in
leisurely fashion, and gazed at his second sister with melancholy
interest, as one far removed from youthful follies and grieved to behold
them in those he held dear.
"You are the only one who has kept on her dress! I suppose you don't
mind what you suffer, so long as you make an appearance! It's a pity,
as you said, that there is no one to admire you, but if you would like
to meet a stranger, why don't you go for a walk down the left wing and
back by the hall? The moonlight is shining in at the windows, and you
know the old saying that if you walk by yourself in the moonlight to-
night you will see the spirit of your future husband waiting for you!
You might have a peep at him now, and come back and tell us what he is
like!"
Esmeralda turned her head on the cushion, and looked at him with a lazy
smile.
"What nonsense are you talking? You are thinking of Hallowe'en, stupid!
That has nothing to do with to-day!"