enough; but when his father turned away with a sigh of relief, he put
his arm round his sister and gave her a bear-like hug.
"What did you howl about, silly?" he asked affectionately. "When you've
had time to cool down you will think it the finest joke of the year.
And you so well plucked, too, holding on like grim death, for all his
struggles. You ought to be proud instead of sorry. Look here, now, you
shall have the racket after all! I won't have you the loser for your
dealings with me. I'll give it to you at once, if you'll be troubled to
come to my room!"
Then Esmeralda cried, "Oh, Pat, me darlin'!" and Pat hung on to her
arms, crying, "Hold me tight! Hold me tight!" at which she blushed and
tugged his curly locks, and off they went together, laughing,
squabbling, protesting; sworn enemies, dearest of friends!
Jack arrived in due course, and a happier Christmas party than that
assembled round the breakfast-table at Knock Castle next morning it
would have been hard to find. Each one had provided presents for the
others, and if they were of infinitesimal value, they were apparently
none the less valued by the recipients. Mademoiselle thought she had
never seen anything more charming, than the manner in which Pixie
presented, and the Major received, a solitary bone stud for his collar,
amidst the acclamations of an admiring family.
"A happy Christmas to ye, father darlin', and many happy returns!" said
Pixie in deep sweet accents, as she pressed the tiny packet into his
hand, and blinked at it with an air of elaborate indifference. "It's
just a little present I was buying you, thinking maybe you would like to
wear something I'd chosen meself."
"And now what can this be next?" soliloquised the Major, untwisting the
paper with tenderest fingers and an air of absorption seldom seen on his
merry features. When wrapping number two was undone, and the stud was
disclosed in all its glory, he appeared almost dizzy with rapture,
holding it out on an outstretched palm, and gazing at it with
incredulous joy. "Did ever anything fall out so lucky as that? The
very thing I was breaking my heart over not an hour ago. Somebody eats
my studs--I'm sure they do--and what are left Esmeralda steals for her
cuffs. But I'll be even with anybody who dares to take this one from my
drawer. Thank you, my piccaninny. It's a broth of a stud, and you
could not have given me anything I liked better."
"I hope it may never break on you when you are in a hurry," said Pixie
politely, and with sundry memories of past occasions when the Major had
dressed for a function, while the sounds of his groans and lamentations
had been heard without the portals of his dressing-room.
Esmeralda presented Bridgie with a card of hat-pins; Bridgie had knitted
woollen gloves for the boys, and the most exciting presentations were
those which Mademoiselle had thoughtfully brought with her--dainty lace
ties for the sisters, which were received with a rapture almost too
great for words, and the grey Suede gloves which were Jack's happy
inspiration. Dark and threatening as the day appeared, on went gloves
and tie, when it was time to start for church, and Esmeralda at least
was proudly conscious of her stylish appearance, when half-way along the
muddy lane the Trelawneys' carriage bowled past, and the laughing eyes
of the stranger met hers once more. The mud flew from the carriage-
wheels, and she held up her skirts with a great display of grey-gloved
hands, and backed up against the hedge, frowning and petulant--my Lady
Disdain in every gesture and expression.
Mademoiselle had never before attended a Christmas service in an English
church, and though it was impossible to resist some pangs of
homesickness, she was still interested and impressed. The little
building was tastefully decorated, and the beautiful hymns were sung
with delightful heartiness and feeling. The O'Shaughnessys themselves
would have constituted a creditable choir, for Pat's still unbroken
voice was a joy to hear as he joined in the air with Bridgie and Pixie,
the Major rolled out a sonorous bass, Jack sang tenor, while Esmeralda's
alto was rich and full as an organ stop. They sang with heart as well
as voice, as indeed who can help singing those wonderful words? First,
the heralds' call to Christendom to greet the great festival of the
year, the birthday of its Lord: "Christians, awake! Salute the happy
morn."--It must be a cold heart indeed which does not thrill a response
to that summons; then the description of the angelic joy at His coming,
"Hark, the herald angels sing"; and last, and perhaps most beautiful of
all, the summons to the saints on earth to join in that praise, "Oh,
come, let us adore Him, Christ the Lord!"
The service passed in a glow of exaltation, and the softening influence
continued throughout the long walk home, when the younger members of the
family walked on ahead, and the two older girls followed sedately in the
rear. Bridgie's eyes glowed as she looked after her "children", Pat and
Miles, tall and graceful even in this their hobbledehoy stage, Esmeralda
queening it in their midst, and Pixie dancing blissfully through every
puddle that came in her way.
"Doesn't it make you rejoice to see them all so well and happy?" she
cried fervently. "Last Christmas we were so sad that it seemed as if
the sun would never shine again; but mother said she wanted us to be
happy, and it would do her heart good to see them to-day. I was
thinking about her in church, and asked myself if I had done all I could
to keep my charge. She left them in my care, you know, for I had to
take her place, and on days like this I feel as if I had to answer to
her for all that is wrong. Pixie is happy at school, and it's lovely to
know you, and feel that you will be good to the darling; Jack is getting
on with his work, and the boys and Esmeralda quarrel less than they used
to do. She's the one I am most anxious about, for she is not satisfied
with this quiet life, and her head will be turned with flattery before
many years are over. Did you notice that young Englishman last night,
and the way he fixed his eyes upon her? If he comes over here flirting
with her, what will I do, Therese? He is here for a week or two only,
and after he has gone she will feel duller than ever, poor creature. I
wonder what I had better do?"
"Mees Esmeralda seems to me exceedingly able to take care of herself,"
remarked Mademoiselle quietly. "I don't think you need distress
yourself about her in this instance. Monsieur 'Illiard has had the
misfortune to make a bad impression, by placing her in an uncomfortable
position, and have you not observed the air with which she has bowed to
him to-day as he passed? It was not, to say the least of it,
encouraging."
Bridgie laughed,--a little, tender, indulgent laugh.
"But it was very pretty all the same, and sort of encouraging
discouraging, don't you think? If I were in his place I don't think I
should be exactly depressed. It was like a challenge thrown down before
him, and from his look I believe he means to accept it too! Ah dear,
it's a great responsibility to have a beauty for a sister! I am in
terror every time a young man comes to the house, in case he should fall
in love with her."
"There is more than one girl in the house, however, and I know vich of
the two would be my choice, if I were, as you say, a young man myself,"
returned Mademoiselle sturdily. Bridgie's utter unconsciousness of her
own claims to attention filled her at once with admiration and
impatience, and she could not resist putting her feelings into words.
"Does it never give you any fear in case one should fall in love with
you instead?"
"No, never; how could they when she was near?" cried Bridgie fervently,
and then suddenly flushed all over her delicate face and began a
stammering explanation. "At least, that's not quite true. There was
one man--I never told anyone about it before, and indeed there's not
much to tell. Joan and I went to stay ten days with some friends at the
other side of the county, nearly a year ago last autumn, and he was
staying there too. He was not like other men I had met, or I thought he
was different. He was graver than most young men, though he liked fun
all the same, and when we talked it seemed as if we shared the same
thoughts. It was not long after mother's death, and I was feeling very
lonely, but I didn't feel lonely when I was with him. On the third day
we went a picnic, and I drove in a wagonette with the ladies, and he
walked with the men. Just as we overtook them the horses took fright,
and began to gallop down a hill. We thought for a few minutes that we
should certainly be thrown out at the bottom, but the driver managed to
pull up in time, and we were none the worse except for the fright. The
men came racing along to see what had happened, and his face was as
white as death. When he came up he looked straight at me, and at no one
else, though his sister was there and several old friends, and he said,
`_Thank God_!' Only that, but his voice shook as he said it, and he
turned away, as if he could not bear any more. And I felt so strange
and glad, so happy and proud; all that day I felt as if I were walking
on air, but when I went to bed at night I could not sleep, for I
realised suddenly what it meant. He was growing fond of me, and I of
him; if we were together another week, perhaps he would ask me to marry
him and go away to the other end of the world, for he was a soldier--did
I tell you that? And I had promised mother to look after the children
until they were old enough to manage for themselves. I couldn't break
my word, and yet if I stayed on and was nice to him, he might think it
was wrong of me to say No. And I was afraid I couldn't help being
nice."
The sweet voice broke off suddenly, and Mademoiselle looked into the
grey eyes, and thought that the young soldier was to be congratulated
both on his own good taste, and on the feelings which he had been
fortunate enough to awaken in this best and sweetest of girls.
"_Eh bien_, and what have you done then?" she inquired eagerly. "It was
a difficult position. What have you done?"
"Oh, I did nothing. I came away!" said Bridgie, as simply as if that
were not just the most difficult thing she could have done under the
circumstances. "The next morning he went out shooting, and the post
came in at ten o'clock with a letter from father saying that Pat had
fallen from the barn and twisted his ankle. It was very few weeks he
did not fall from the barn, as a matter of fact, but it was an excuse,
so I said I must go home and nurse him, and they drove me to the station
that very afternoon before the men came home."
Mademoiselle drew in her breath, in a gasp of amazement. She looked at
Bridgie, and her eyes flashed with eloquent comment. It was so
wonderful to think of the courage with which this young thing, with the
bright, pleasure-loving nature which had come to her as an inheritance,
had yet had the courage to deliberately put from her the greatest
happiness which she could have known, in order to devote herself to the
care of others. The simple, unpretentious manner in which the tale was
told, made so light of the incident that it might have involved little
or no suffering; but Mademoiselle knew better, and her voice trembled
with sympathy as she put the low-toned question--
"And afterwards--did it hurt--did it hurt very much, _cherie_?"
"I think it did. I cried a great deal for several nights when I thought
of the good times they were all having together; but I knew it would
have been worse later on, and I comforted myself with that. Besides,
what is the use of giving up a thing at all if one can't do it
cheerfully? It would have been better for me to have married and left
home, than to stay, and make them all miserable by moping and looking
sad. And they are all such darlings, and so loving and kind. I don't
think any other girl ever had such a family as mine!"
"The Major ignores you; the boys worry you to death; my lady Joan orders
you about as if she were a queen, and you her servant; only the little
Pixie worships you as you deserve to be worshipped," reflected
Mademoiselle mentally; but she kept her reflections to herself, and
asked another question, the answer to which she was longing to hear with
truly feminine curiosity. "And was that all,--the end of everything?
What happened next? Have you not heard or seen him since that time?"
The red flew over Bridgie's face, and she smiled--a soft, contented
smile.
"I have never seen him--no! Only a month after that he was ordered to
India, and sailed almost at once, but he wrote to me before he left. A
letter arrived one day in a strange handwriting, but I guessed almost at
once that it was from him. He said he had intended to come to Ireland
in the spring, and to call at Knock Castle, but that now it would be
impossible for some years to come. He said he had enjoyed so much
meeting me for those few days, and he hoped I should not altogether
forget him while he was away. Would I allow him to write to me now and
again, and would I send a photograph for a poor exile to take away to
comfort his loneliness? I had a very nice photograph that a friend of
father had taken the summer before, and I thought there was no harm in
sending him that, and writing a polite little note. It was very short,
and I tried not to make it too nice, and I said nothing at all about
writing, only just remarked that it would be interesting to receive
letters from India," said Bridgie, with a naivete which made
Mademoiselle throw up her hands in delight. "He has written to me four
times since then, and,"--her eyes began to dance, and a dimple danced
mischievously in her cheek--"I enjoy writing to him so much that I
answer them the very next day; but it would not be proper to send them
so soon, you know, so I put no date, but just lock them away in my desk,
and wait for six weeks, or two months before I send them off. Once I
waited for three, and then he sent a newspaper. There was nothing in it
that could interest me in the least, but it was just a gentle hurry up.
I did laugh over that newspaper!"
"Bridgie, Bridgie! this is more serious than I thought. No wonder you
look upon new-comers with indifference. I hope they are very
interesting, those letters. They must be, I suppose, since you are so
eager to reply." But at this Bridgie shook her head, and shrugged her
shoulders deprecatingly.
"You are a teacher; perhaps you would call them interesting. For me
they are just a trifle instructive! I want to hear about himself, and
he describes the country, and the expeditions they make. Don't please
think they are love-letters, Therese. They are very, very proper, not
in the least affectionate, and my replies are terribly dull. You see
I'm in an awkward position, for everything that would be interesting it
would not be proper to say, and everything I can say must be
uninteresting, for he knows almost nothing of us or of our people."
"And yet you are compelled to answer these `instructive epistles' the
moment they arrive, and he cannot wait patiently to receive your so dull
replies. That has only one meaning, my dear, and it will come when he
returns home in a few years, and your children are grown up and able to
be left. It will come. I am sure it will come!"
"If it is the right thing for me--if it is God's will--yes! it will
come, and meanwhile I am very happy. It is good of Him to have given me
such a hope in my life," said Bridgie simply; and Mademoiselle's eyes
dimmed with sudden tears. Her own nervous, restless spirit was for ever
kicking against the pricks, but she was at least honest enough to
acknowledge her shortcomings, and the example of this young girl filled
her with shame and a humble desire to follow in her footsteps.
"And I am thankful that He has let me know you. You do me good,
_cherie_. I wish to be more like you," she said humbly; and Bridgie
opened her great eyes in bewilderment.
"Like me!" she echoed incredulously. "My dear!" The dimple dipped
again, and she slipped her hand through Mademoiselle's arm and shook her
in playful remonstrance. "Don't you make fun of your hostess, or she'll
starve you for your pains. The very idea of clever, accomplished You
wanting to be like blundering Irish Me!"
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
"TO SEE THE RUINS!"
"This begins to grow exciting. The plot develops!" said Mademoiselle
gaily to herself, when the fifth day of the last week in the year was
reached, and Mr Geoffrey Hilliard made his fifth appearance on the
scene in transparently accidental-on-purpose manner. On the first day
he had been discovered assiduously pumping up the tyres of a bicycle
immediately outside the Castle gates; on the second, he was lounging
about the village street with an air of boredom which showed that he had
exhausted all the objects of interest long before the O'Shaughnessy
party passed by on their morning walk; on the third, he paid a formal
call in the afternoon and stayed a good two hours by the clock, for
which breach of etiquette he was so much concerned that he was compelled
to come again the next day to apologise, and hope the ladies were not
fatigued. Bridgie smiled polite reassurements, but Esmeralda lay back
in her seat and naughtily yawned, as though in protest against her
sister's words. She affected to conceal her weariness, but it was a
transparent pretence, and the young fellow's eyes twinkled with
amusement. Since the moment of their first meeting there had been this
pretence of antagonism, this playing at fighting on the girl's part;
but, as Bridgie had foretold, the man seemed to find it rather an
encouragement than otherwise, and his smile was never more bright and
self-confident than after an exhibition like the present.
"Miss Joan seems to have suffered," he said boldly. "I feel truly
guilty; but won't you allow me to remedy the mischief? If I might make
a suggestion, it's a perfect winter afternoon, and you promised to show
me the remains of that old ruin in your grounds. Don't you think that
half an hour's walk before tea would freshen you up?"
"I detest ruins; they are so dull," said Esmeralda ungraciously; but Mr
Hilliard still continued to smile and to look at her in expectant
fashion, and presently, almost against her will, as it seemed, she rose
from her chair and moved across the room. "Of course, if you really
want to see them! It will only take a few minutes. Come then, Pixie!
You were asking me to come out. It will do you good to come too."
Bridgie and Mademoiselle exchanged a quick glance of amusement at the
look of disgust which passed over the visitor's face, and which all his
politeness was not able to conceal; but Pixie pranced after her sister
with willing step, for it had never entered into her heart to believe it
possible that there could exist a living creature unto whom her society
could be otherwise than rapturously welcome. In the cloak-room off the
hall she put on two odd shoes, the two which came first to hand, and a
piebald sealskin jacket, which, according to tradition, had descended
from a great-aunt, and which was known in the household as "The jacket,"
and worn indiscriminately by whosoever might happen to need a warm wrap.
The effect of this costume, finished off by an old bowler hat, was so
weird and grotesque that at the first moment of beholding it Hilliard
thought it must surely be a joke designed for his benefit; but the air
of unconsciousness worn by both girls saved him from making a false
move, and he speedily forgot all about Pixie in admiration of her
sister. Whatever Esmeralda wore, it seemed as if this were the dress of
all others to show off her beauty to the best advantage; and the grey
golf-cape and knitted cap, set carelessly over her smoke-like locks,
appeared at once the ideal garments for a winter promenade. Pixie
slipped her arm underneath the cloak to hang on to her sister's arm, and
the three set off together across the snow-bound park.
"I suppose you know a great deal about ruins, since you are so much
interested in ours," said Esmeralda, as an opening to the conversation.
"People are always interested in things they understand. That's the
only reason why I should like to be clever and learned--it would make
life so much more satisfying. It doesn't amuse me in the least to see
old walls, and bits of pillars sticking out of the earth. I'd pull them
all down and build something new in their place if I had the chance, but
people who understand are quite different. Some people came here once
on a picnic from Dublin, and father gave them permission to see over the
grounds. Of course it rained, but they all stood round on the damp,
soaking grass while an old gentleman gave a lecture about that miserable
little ruin. He said something about the shape of the windows, and they
all took notes and sketches and snapshots, as if they had never seen
anything so wonderful in their lives. There is a bit of a pillar two
yards high. He prosed away about that until I had to yawn, but they
seemed to like it. Some of them were quite young too. There was a girl
rather like Bridgie, with such a pretty hat!" Esmeralda heaved a sigh
of melancholy recollection. "She stood there and let the rain soak
through the ribbons while she sketched the stupid old things. I envied
her so! I thought, `Why can't I be interested in ruins too, and then I
should have something to think about, and to amuse myself with when the
time feels so long?'"
"Does the time seem long to you, then? Do you find it dull over here?"
asked Hilliard, in a tone that was almost tender in its anxious
solicitude; and Esmeralda heaved a sigh of funereal proportions,
delighted to find herself supplied with a listener ready to sympathise
with her woes. A home audience is proverbially stoical, and after the
jeers and smiles of brothers and sisters, it was a refreshing change to
wake a note of distress at the very beginning of a conversation. She
became suddenly conscious of a feeling of acute enjoyment, but
endeavoured to look pensive, as befitted the occasion, and rolled her
grey eyes upward with eloquent sadness.
"Oh, dull! Dull does not express my feelings! We are so shut in here,
and so little happens, and I know nothing. I have had no chance of
learning and finding interests in that way."
"Why didn't ye study, then, when ye had the chance? Ye drove Miss
Minnitt crazy with your idleness!" interposed Pixie brutally; and
Esmeralda flushed and hesitated, momentarily discomfited, then,
recovering herself, cast a melancholy glance in Hilliard's face.
"Our old governess," she explained resignedly, in the tone of one who
might speak volumes, but is restrained from feelings of loyalty and
decorum. "A kind old creature, so good to us! She has lived in this
village all her life."
"I understand," said the model listener. It seemed to him quite natural
that this beautiful creature possessed an intellect to match her person,
and felt her eagle wings pinioned in the atmosphere of an Irish village.
He wished he were only more intellectual himself, so that he might be a
fitter companion, and devoutly hoped that he might make no bad slip to
betray his ignorance, and so alienate her sweet confidence. "As you
say, the more one knows, the less possible it should be to be dull or
idle. Amusement can never make up for good solid occupation."
"Oh, never, never!" cried Miss Esmeralda, with a fervour which brought
Pixie's eyes upon her in a flash of righteous indignation. Esmeralda to
talk like this! Esmeralda, who sat at ease while others worked, who
groaned aloud if asked to sew on a button, and was at once so dilatory
and so inefficient that Bridgie declared it was easier to do a task at
once than to unravel it after her vain attempts. Pixie gasped and
pranced on ahead, her back towards the direction in which she was going,
her face turned upon the culprit in kindling reproach.
"Joan O'Shaughnessy, what's happened to you to talk in such a fashion
this day? You, that doesn't know the meaning of work, to be sighing and
groaning that you haven't enough to do! You, to be saying that it would
cheer you to be busy, when ye sigh like a furnace and grumble the day
long if you have to work for an hour on end! I've heard ye say with my
own ears that if you had your own way, you would never do another hand's
turn, and of all the lazy, idle girls--"