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+Project Gutenberg's The Love Affairs of Pixie, by Mrs George de Horne Vaizey
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Love Affairs of Pixie
+
+Author: Mrs George de Horne Vaizey
+
+Release Date: October 20, 2007 [EBook #23125]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOVE AFFAIRS OF PIXIE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
+
+
+
+
+The Love Affairs of Pixie, by Mrs George de Horne Vaizey.
+
+________________________________________________________________________
+Here we have yet again the lovable Pixie, the youngest child of the
+O'Shaughnessy family, who had all been brought up at Knock Castle, in
+Ireland, and about whom two previous books have been written.  None of
+the family can quite get their minds round the fact that Pixie is now
+old enough to have affairs, and even to marry, especially as they are
+all aware how very plain she is.
+
+But Pixie has other ideas.  She becomes engaged to Stanor Vaughan, a
+very good-looking young rising businessman, whose very rich but
+disabled uncle is his guardian.  The uncle suggests that Stanor should
+go to America for a couple of years, to become a bit more mature.
+
+Meanwhile there is very nasty and sudden accident to little Jack, an
+angelic little boy, whom everybody adores.  Will he survive?
+
+Eventually Stanor returns to London.  But things have sorted themselves
+out rather better than we would have thought after the first few
+chapters.
+
+This book was printed in a very heavy type on thinnish paper.  It was a
+mistake to scan it on the default brightness setting, and it was very
+difficult to clean out all the misreads.  There may yet be a few, but
+not many, I hope.  These will be taken out eventually, I hope.
+
+________________________________________________________________________
+THE LOVE AFFAIRS OF PIXIE, BY MRS GEORGE DE HORNE VAIZEY.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER ONE.
+
+THE QUESTION OF NOSES.
+
+When Pixie O'Shaughnessy had reached her twentieth birthday it was borne
+in upon her with the nature of a shock that she was not beautiful.
+Hitherto a buoyant and innocent self-satisfaction, coupled with the
+atmosphere of love and admiration by which she was surrounded in the
+family circle, had succeeded in blinding her eyes to the very obvious
+defects of feature which the mirror portrayed.  But suddenly, sharply,
+her eyes were opened.
+
+"Did it ever occur to you, Bridgie, my dear, that I've grown-up
+_plain_?" she demanded of her sister, Mrs Victor, as the two sat by the
+fire one winter afternoon, partaking luxuriously of strong tea and
+potato cakes, and at the sound of such a surprising question Mrs Victor
+started as if a crack of thunder had suddenly pealed through the quiet
+room.  She stared in amazement; her big, grey eyes widened dramatically.
+
+"My good child," she demanded sternly, "whatever made you think of
+asking such a preposterous question?"
+
+"'Twas borne in on me!" sighed Pixie sadly.  "It's the way with life; ye
+go jog-trotting along, blind and cheerful, until suddenly ye bang your
+head against a wall, and your eyes are opened!  'Twas the same with me.
+I looked at myself every day, but I never saw.  Habit, my dear,
+blindfolded me like a bandage, and looking at good-looking people all
+day long it seemed only natural that I should look nice too.  But this
+morning the sun shone, and I stood before the glass twisting about to
+try on my new hat, and, Bridgie, the truth was revealed!  _My nose_!"
+
+"What's the matter with your nose?" demanded Mrs Victor.  Her own
+sweet, delicately cut face was flushed with anger, and she sat with
+stiffened back staring across the fireplace as if demanding compensation
+for a personal injury.
+
+Pixie sighed, and helped herself to another slice of potato cake.
+
+"It scoops!" she said plaintively.  "As you love me, Bridgie, can you
+deny it scoops?"  And as if to illustrate the truth of her words she
+twisted her head so as to present her little profile for her sister's
+inspection.
+
+Truly it was not a classic outline!  Sketched in bare outline it would
+have lacerated an artist's eye, but then more things than line go to the
+making up a girlish face: there is youth, for instance, and a blooming
+complexion; there is vivacity, and sweetness, and an intangible
+something which for want of a better name we call "charm."  Mrs Victor
+beheld all these attributes in her sister's face, and her eyes softened
+as they looked, but her voice was still resentful.
+
+"Of course it scoops.  It always _did_ scoop.  I like it to scoop."
+
+"I like them straight!" persisted Pixie.  "And it isn't as if it stopped
+at the nose.  There's my mouth--"
+
+Bridgie's laugh had a tender, reminiscent ring.
+
+"The Mammoth Cave of Kentucky!  D'you remember the Major's old name?  He
+was _proud_ of your mouth.  And you had no chin as a child.  You ought
+to be thankful, Pixie, that you've grown to a chin!"
+
+"I am," cried Pixie with unction.  "It would be awful to slope down into
+your neck.  All the same, me dear, if it was my eyes that were bigger,
+and my mouth that was smaller, it would be better for all concerned."
+She was silent for some moments, staring thoughtfully in the fire.  From
+time to time she frowned, and from time to time she smiled; Bridgie
+divined that a thought was working, and lay back in her seat, amusedly
+watching its development.  "There's a place in Paris," continued Pixie
+thoughtfully at last, "an institute sort of place, where they repair
+noses!  You sort of go in, and they look at you, and there are models
+and drawings, and _you choose your nose_!  The manager is an expert, and
+if you choose a wrong style he advises, and says another would suit you
+better.  I'd love a Greek one myself; it's so _chic_ to float down
+straight from the forehead, but I expect he'd advise a blend that
+wouldn't look too _epatant_ with my other features.--It takes a
+fortnight, and it doesn't hurt.  Your nose is gelatine, not bone; and it
+costs fifty pounds."
+
+"Wicked waste!" cried Mrs Victor, with all the fervour of a matron
+whose own nose is beyond reproach.  "Fifty pounds on a nose!  I never
+heard of such foolish extravagance."
+
+"Esmeralda paid eighty for a sealskin coat.  A nose would last for life,
+while if a single moth got inside the brown paper--whew!"  Pixie waved
+her hands with the Frenchiness of gesture which was the outcome of an
+education abroad, and which made an amusing contrast with an Irish
+accent, unusually pronounced.  "I'd think nothing of running over to
+Paris for a fortnight's jaunt, and having the nose thrown in.  Fancy me
+walking in on you all, before you'd well realised I was away, smart and
+smiling with a profile like Clytie, or a sweet little acquiline, or a
+neat and wavey one, like your own.  You wouldn't know me!"
+
+"I shouldn't!" said Bridgie eloquently.
+
+"Now let's pretend!"  Pixie hitched her chair nearer to the fire, and
+placed her little feet on the fender with an air of intense enjoyment.
+In truth, tea-time, and the opportunity which it gave of undisturbed
+parleys with Bridgie, ranked as one of the great occasions of life.
+Every day there seemed something fresh and exciting to discuss, and the
+game of "pretend" made unfailing appeal to the happy Irish natures, but
+it was not often that such an original and thrilling topic came under
+discussion.  A repaired nose!  Pixie warmed to the theme with the zest
+of a skilled _raconteur_. ...  "You'd be sitting here, and I'd walk in
+in my hat and veil--a new-fashioned scriggley veil, as a sort of screen.
+We'd kiss.  If it was a long kiss, you'd feel the point, being
+accustomed to a button, and that would give it away, but I'd make it
+short so you'd notice nothing, and I'd sit down with my back to the
+light, and we'd talk.  `Take off your hat,' you'd say.  `In a moment,'
+I'd answer.  `Not yet, me dear, my hair's untidy.'  `You look like a
+visitor,' you'd say, `with your veil drawn down.'  `It's a French one,'
+I'd say.  `It becomes me, doesn't it?  Three francs fifty,' and you'd
+frown, and stare, and say, `_Does_ it?  I don't know!  You look--
+different, Pixie.  You don't look--yourself!'"
+
+The real Pixie gurgled with enjoyment, and Bridgie Victor gurgled in
+response.
+
+"Then I'd protest, and ask what was the matter, and say if there _was_
+anything, it must be the veil, and if there _was_ a change wasn't it
+honestly for the better, and I'd push up my veil and smile at you; smile
+languidly across the room.  I can see your face, poor darling!  All
+scared and starey, while I turned round s-lowly, s-lowly, until I was
+sideways towards you, with me elegant Grecian nose..."
+
+Bridgie shuddered.
+
+"I'd not live through it!  It would break my heart.  With a Grecian nose
+you might be Patricia, but you couldn't possibly be Pixie.  It's too
+horrible to think of!"
+
+But Pixie had in her nature a reserve of obstinacy, and in absolutely
+good-natured fashion could "hang on" to a point through any amount of
+discouragement.
+
+"Now, since you mention it, that's another argument in my favour," she
+said quickly.  "It's hard on a girl of twenty to be bereft of her legal
+name because of incompatibility with her features.  Now, with a Grecian
+nose--"
+
+Bridgie sat up suddenly, and cleared her throat.  The time had come to
+remember her own position as married sister and guardian, and put a stop
+to frivolous imaginings.
+
+"May I ask," she demanded clearly, "exactly in what manner you would
+propose to raise the fifty pounds?  Your nose is your own to do what you
+like with--or will be at the end of another year--but--"
+
+"The fifty pounds isn't!  I know it," said Pixie.  She did not sigh, as
+would have seemed appropriate at such a moment, but exhibited rather a
+cheerful and gratified air, as though her own poverty were an amusing
+peculiarity which added to the list of her attractions.
+
+"Of course, my dear, nobody ever dreamt for a moment it could be _done_,
+but it's always interesting to pretend.  Don't we amuse ourselves for
+hours pretending to be millionaires, when you're all of a flutter about
+eighteen-pence extra in the laundry bill?  I wonder at _you_, Bridgie,
+pretending to be practical."
+
+"I'm sorry," said Bridgie humbly.  A pang of conscience pierced her
+heart, for had it not been her own extravagance which had swelled the
+laundry bill by that terrible eighteen-pence?  Penitence engendered a
+more tender spirit, and she said gently--
+
+"We love your looks, Pixie.  To us you seem lovely and beautiful."
+
+"Bless your blind eyes!  I know I do.  But," added Pixie astonishingly,
+"I wasn't thinking of you!"
+
+"_Not_!"  A moment followed of sheer, gaping surprise, for Bridgie
+Victor was so accustomed to the devotion of her young sister, so
+placidly, assured that the quiet family life furnished the girl with,
+everything necessary for her happiness, that the suggestion of an
+outside interest came as a shock.  "_Not_!" she repeated blankly.
+"Then--then--who?"
+
+"My lovers!" replied Pixie calmly.
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+And looking back through the years, it always seemed to Bridgie Victor
+that with the utterance of those words the life of Pixie O'Shaughnessy
+entered upon a new and absorbing phase.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWO.
+
+PIXIE'S VIEWS ON MARRIAGE.
+
+Bridgie Victor sat gazing at her sister in a numb bewilderment.  It was
+the first, the very first time that the girl had breathed a word
+concerning the romantic possibilities of her own life, and even
+Bridgie's trained imagination failed to rise to the occasion.  Pixie!
+Lovers!  Lovers!  Pixie! ...  The juxtaposition of ideas was too
+preposterous to be grasped.  Pixie was a child, the baby of the family,
+just a bigger, more entertaining baby to play with the tinies of the
+second generation, who treated her as one of themselves, and one and all
+scorned to bestow the title of "aunt."
+
+There was a young Patricia in the nursery at Knock Castle, and a second
+edition in the Victor nursery upstairs; but though the baptismal name of
+the little sister had been copied, not even the adoring mothers
+themselves would have dreamed of borrowing the beloved pet name, Pixie's
+nose might not be to her approval; it might even scoop--to be perfectly
+candid, it _did_ scoop--but it had never yet been put out of joint.  The
+one and only, the inimitable Pixie, she still lived enthroned in the
+hearts of her brothers and sisters, as something specially and
+peculiarly their own.
+
+So it was that a pang rent Bridgie's heart at the realisation that the
+little sister was grown-up, was actually twenty years of age--past
+twenty, going to be twenty-one in a few more months, and that the time
+was approaching when a stranger might have the audacity to steal her
+from the fold.  To her own heart, Bridgie realised the likelihood of
+such a theft, and the naturalness thereof: outwardly, for Pixie's
+benefit she appeared shocked to death.
+
+"L-lovers!" gasped Bridgie.  "Lovers!  Is it you, Pixie O'Shaughnessy, I
+hear talking of such things?  I'm surprised; I'm shocked!  I never could
+have believed you troubled your head about such matters."
+
+"But I do," asserted Pixie cheerfully.  "Lots.  Not to say _trouble_,
+exactly, for it's most agreeable.  I pretend about them, and decide what
+they'll be like.  When I see a man that takes my fancy, I add him to the
+list.  Mostly they're clean-shaved, but I saw one the other day with a
+beard--" She lifted a warning finger to stay Bridgie's cry of protest.
+"Not a straggler, but a naval one, short and trim; and you wouldn't
+believe how becoming it was!  I decided then to have one with a beard.
+And they are mostly tall and handsome, and rolling in riches, so that I
+can buy anything I like, nose included.  But one must be poor and sad,
+because that," announced Pixie, in her most radiant fashion, "would be
+good for my character.  I'd be sorry for him, the creature!  And, as
+they say in books, 'twould soften me.  Would you say honestly, now,
+Bridgie, that I'm in _need_ of softening?"
+
+"I should not.  I should say you were soft enough already.  _Too_ soft!"
+declared Bridgie sternly.  "`Them,' indeed!  Plural, I'll trouble you!
+Just realise, my child, that there are not enough men to go round, and
+don't waste time making pictures of a chorus who will never appear.  If
+you have _one_ lover, it will be more than your share; and it's doubtful
+if you ever get that."
+
+"I doubt it," maintained Pixie sturdily.  "I'm plain, but I've a way.
+You know yourself, me dear, I've a way! ...  I'm afraid I'll have lots;
+and that's the trouble of it, for as sure as you're there, Bridgie, I'll
+accept them all!  'Twouldn't be in my heart to say no, with a nice man
+begging to be allowed to take care of me.  I'd love him on the spot for
+being so kind; or if I didn't, and I saw him upset, it would seem only
+decent to comfort him, so 'twould end the same way. ...  It breaks my
+heart when the girls refuse the nice man in books, and I always long to
+be able to run after him when he leaves the room--ashy pale, with a
+nerve twitching beside his eye--and ask him will I do instead!  If I
+feel like that to another girl's lover, what will I do to my own?"
+
+Bridgie stared aghast.  Her brain was still reeling from the shock of
+hearing Pixie refer to the subject of lovers at all, and here was yet
+another problem looming ahead.  With a loving grasp of her sister's
+character, she realised that the protestations to which she had just
+listened embodied a real danger.  Pixie had always been "the
+soft-heartedest creature," who had never from her earliest years been
+known to refuse a plea for help.  It would only be in keeping with her
+character if she accepted a suitor out of pure politeness and
+unwillingness to hurt his feelings.  Bridgie was a happy wife, and for
+that very reason was determined that if care and guidance, if authority,
+and persuasion, and precept, and a judicious amount of influence could
+do it, Pixie should never be married, unless it were to the right man.
+She therefore adopted her elderly attitude once more, and said firmly--
+
+"It's very wicked and misguided even to talk in such a way.  When the
+time comes that a man asks you to marry him--if it ever comes--it will
+be your first and foremost duty to examine your own heart and see if you
+love him enough to live with him all his life, whether he is ill or
+well, or rich or poor, or happy or sad.  You will have to decide whether
+you would be happier with him in trouble or free by yourself, and you'd
+have to remember that it's not always too easy managing a house, and--
+and walking about half the night with a teething baby, and darning
+socks, when you want to go out, and wearing the same dress three years
+running, even if you love the man you've married.  Of course, some girls
+marry rich husbands--like Esmeralda; but that's rare.  Far more young
+couples begin as we did, with having to be careful about every shilling;
+and that, my dear, is _not_ agreeable!  You need to be _very_ fond of a
+man to make it worth while to go on short commons all your life.  You
+need to think things over very carefully, before you accept an offer of
+marriage."
+
+Pixie sat listening, her head cocked to one side, with the air of a
+bright, intelligent bird.  When Bridgie had finished speaking she sighed
+and knitted her brows, and stared thoughtfully into the fire.  It was
+obvious that she was pondering over what had been said, and did not find
+herself altogether in agreement with the rules laid down.
+
+"You mean," she said slowly, "that I should have to think altogether of
+_myself_ and what would suit _Me_ and make _me_ happy?  That's strange,
+now; that's very strange!  To bring a girl up all her life to believe
+it's her duty in every small thing that comes along to put herself last
+and her family in front, and then when she's a grown-up woman, and a man
+comes along who believes, poor thing! that she could help him and make
+him happy, _then_ just at that moment you tell her to be selfish and
+think only of herself. ...  'Tis not that way I'll conduct my love
+affairs!" cried Pixie O'Shaughnessy.  Her eyes met Bridgie's, and
+flashed defiance.  "When I meet a man who needs me I'll find my own
+happiness in helping _him_!"
+
+"Bless you, darling!" said Bridgie softly.  "I am quite sure you will.
+...  It's a very, very serious time for a woman when the question of
+marriage comes into her life.  You can't treat it _too_ seriously.  I
+have not thought of it so far in connection with you, but now that I do
+I'll pray about it, Pixie!  I'll pray for you, that you may be guided to
+a right choice.  You'll pray that for yourself, won't you, dear?"
+
+"I will," said Pixie quietly.  "I do.  And for him--the man I may marry.
+I've prayed for him quite a long time."
+
+"The ... the _man_!"  Bridgie was so surprised as to appear almost
+shocked.  "My dear, you don't know him!"
+
+"But he is alive, isn't he?  He must be, if I'm going to marry him.
+Alive, and grown-up, and living, perhaps, not so far away.  Perhaps he's
+an orphan, Bridgie; or if he has a home, perhaps he's had to leave it
+and live in a strange town. ...  Perhaps he's in lodgings, going home
+every night to sit alone in a room.  Perhaps he's trying to be good, and
+finding it very hard.  Perhaps there's no one in all the world to pray
+for him but just me.  _Bridgie_!  If I'm going to love him how can I
+_not_ pray?"
+
+Mrs Victor rose hurriedly from her seat, and busied herself with the
+arrangement of the curtains.  They were heavy velvet curtains, which at
+night-time drew round the whole of the large bay window which formed the
+end of the pretty, cosy room.  Bridgie took especial pleasure in the
+effect of a great brass vase which, on its oaken pedestal, stood sharply
+outlined against the rich, dark folds.  She moved its position now,
+moved it back into its original place, and touched the leaves of the
+chrysanthemum which stood therein with a caressing hand.  Six years'
+residence in a town had not sufficed to teach the one-time mistress of
+Knock Castle to be economical when purchasing flowers.  "I can't live
+without them.  It's not my fault if they are dear!" she would protest to
+her own conscience at the sight of the florist's bill.
+
+And in truth, who could expect a girl to be content with a few scant
+blossoms when she had lived all her early age in the midst of prodigal
+plenty!  In spring the fields had been white with snowdrops.  Sylvia
+sent over small packing-cases every February, filled with hundreds and
+hundreds of little tight bunches of the spotless white flowers, and
+almost every woman of Bridgie's acquaintance rejoiced with her on their
+arrival.  After the snowdrops came on the wild daffodils and bluebells
+and primroses.  They arrived in cases also, fragrant with the scent
+which was really no scent at all, but just the incarnation of everything
+fresh, and pure, and rural.  Then came the blossoming of trees.  Bridgie
+sighed whenever she thought of blossom, for that was one thing which
+would _not_ pack; and the want of greenery too, that was another cross
+to the city dweller.  She longed to break off great branches of trees,
+and place them in corners of the room; she longed to wander into the
+fields and pick handfuls of grasses, and honeysuckle, and prickly briar
+sprays.  Who could blame her for taking advantage of what compensation
+lay within reach?
+
+This afternoon, however, the contemplation of the tawny chrysanthemums
+displayed in the brass vase failed to inspire the usual joy.  Bridgie's
+eyes were bright indeed as she turned back into the room, but it was the
+sort of brightness which betokens tears repressed.  She laid her hand on
+the little sister's shoulders, and spoke in the deepest tone of her
+tender Irish voice--
+
+"What has been happening to you, my Pixie, all this time when I've been
+treating you as a child?  Have you been growing up quietly into a little
+woman?"
+
+Pixie smiled up into her face--a bright, unclouded smile.
+
+"Faith," she said, radiantly, "I believe.  I have!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER THREE.
+
+NEARLY TWENTY-ONE!
+
+Bridgie rang the bell to have the tea-things removed and a message sent
+to the nursery that the children might descend without further delay.
+It was still a few minutes before the orthodox hour, but the
+conversation had reached a point when a distraction would be welcome,
+and Jack and Patsie were invariably prancing with impatience from the
+moment when the smell of hot potato cakes ascended from below.
+
+They came with a rush, pattering down the staircase with a speed which
+made Bridgie gasp and groan, and bursting open the door entered the room
+at the double.  Jack was five, and wore a blue tunic with an exceedingly
+long-waisted belt, beneath which could be discerned the hems of
+abbreviated knickers.  Patricia was three, and wore a limp white frock
+reaching to the tips of little red shoes.  She had long brown locks, and
+eyes of the true O'Shaughnessy grey, and was proudly supposed to
+resemble her beautiful aunt Joan.  Jack was fair, with linty locks and a
+jolly brown face.  His mouth might have been smaller and still attained
+a fair average in size, but for the time being his pretty baby teeth
+filled the cavern so satisfactorily, that no one could complain.
+
+Both children made straight for their mother, smothered her with
+"Bunnie" hugs, and then from the shelter of her arms cast quick,
+questioning glances across the fireplace.  There was in their glance a
+keenness, a curiosity, almost amounting to _awe_, which would at once
+have arrested the attention of an onlooker.  It was not in the least the
+smiling glance of recognition which is accorded to a member of the
+household on meeting again after one of the short separations of the
+day; it resembled far more the half-nervous, half-pleasurable shrinking
+from an introduction to a stranger, about whom was wrapped a cloak of
+deepest mystery.  As for Pixie herself she sat bolt upright in her seat,
+staring fixedly into space, and apparently unconscious of the children's
+presence.
+
+Presently Jack took a tentative step forward, and Patsie followed in his
+wake.  Half a yard from Pixie's chair they stopped short with eager,
+craning faces, with bodies braced in readiness for a flying retreat.
+
+"Pixie!"
+
+No answer.  Still the rigid, immovable figure.  Still the fixed and
+staring eye.
+
+"P-ixie!"
+
+The eyes rolled; a deep, hollow voice boomed forth--
+
+"I'm _not_ Pixie!"
+
+The expected had happened.  They had known it was coming; would have
+been bitterly disappointed if it had failed, nevertheless they writhed
+and capered as though overcome with amazement.
+
+"P-ixie, Pixie, Who--Are--You--Now?"
+
+"I'm a wild buffalo of the plains!" answered Pixie unexpectedly, and as
+a wild buffalo she comported herself for the next half-hour, ambling on
+hands and knees round the room, while the children wreathed her neck
+with impromptu garlands made of wools from their mother's work-basket,
+and made votive offerings of sofa cushions, footstools, and india-rubber
+toys.
+
+In the midst of the uproar Bridgie jumped from her seat and flew to the
+door, her ears sharp as ever to hear the click of her husband's
+latch-key.  The greeting in the narrow hall was delightfully lover-like
+for a married couple of six years' standing, and they entered the
+drawing-room arm-in-arm, smiling with a contentment charming to witness.
+Captain Victor was satisfied that no one in the world possessed such an
+altogether delightful specimen of womanhood as his "bride."  She was so
+sweet, so good, so unselfish, and in addition to these sterling
+qualities, she was so cheerful, so spontaneous, so unexpected, that it
+was impossible for life to grow dull and monotonous while she was at the
+head of the household.
+
+He acknowledged tenderly, and with a shrug of the shoulders to express
+resignation, that she _might_ have been a cleverer housekeeper and just
+a thought more economical in expenditure! but considering her
+happy-go-lucky upbringing under the most thriftless of fathers, the
+darling really deserved more praise for what she accomplished than blame
+for what was left undone.
+
+Bridgie, on the contrary, considered that Dick worried his head
+ridiculously about ways and means.  Not for the world and all that it
+contained would she have accused him of being _mean_: she merely
+shrugged _her_ shoulders and reminded herself that he was English, poor
+thing!  English people had a preference for seeing money visibly in
+their purses before they spent it, while she herself had been brought up
+in a cheerful confidence that it would "turn up" somehow to pay the
+bills which had been incurred in faith.
+
+Captain Victor displayed not the faintest astonishment at discovering
+his sister-in-law on all fours, nor did he appear overcome to be
+introduced to her as a buffalo of the plains.  He smiled at her almost
+as tenderly as at his own babies, and said--
+
+"How do, Buff!  Pleased to have met you.  So kind of you to make hay in
+my drawing-room," which reproof brought Pixie quickly to her rightful
+position.  That was another English characteristic of Dick Victor--he
+hated disorder, and was not appreciative of uproar on his return from a
+day's work.  Therefore there were picture-books in waiting for his
+return, and after a few minutes parleying Pixie cajoled the children
+into the dining-room on the plea of a bigger and more convenient table
+for the display of their treasures, leaving the husband and wife alone.
+
+Dick lay back in his easy chair, and stretched himself with an
+involuntary sigh of relief.  He was devoted to his children, but a quiet
+chat with Bridgie was the treat _par excellence_ at this hour of the day
+when he was tired and in need of rest.  He stretched out a hand towards
+her, and she stroked it with gentle fingers.
+
+"Ye're tired, dear.  Will I get you a cup of tea?  It's not long since
+it went out.  If I poured some hot-water in the pot..."
+
+Dick shuddered.
+
+"Thank you, ma'am, _no_!  If I have any, I'll have it fresh, but I don't
+care about it to-day.  It's nice just to rest and talk.  Anything
+happened to you to-day?"
+
+"There always does.  It's the most exciting thing in the world to be the
+mistress of a household," said Bridgie, with relish.  There were few
+days when Captain Victor was not treated to a history of accidents and
+contretemps on his return home, but unlike most husbands he rather
+anticipated than dreaded the recital, for Bridgie so evidently enjoyed
+it herself, taking a keen retrospective joy over past discomfitures.
+
+The Victor household had its own share of vicissitudes, more than its
+share perhaps, but through them all there survived a spirit of
+kindliness and good fellowship which took away more than half the
+strain.  Maidservants arriving in moods of suspicion and antagonism
+found themselves unconsciously unarmed by the cheery, kindly young
+mistress, who administered praise more readily than blame, and so far
+from "giving herself airs" treated them with friendly kindliness and
+consideration.  On the very rare occasions when a girl was poor-spirited
+enough to persist in her antagonism, off she went with a month's money
+in her pocket, for the peace of her little home was the greatest
+treasure in the world to Bridgie Victor, and no hireling could be
+allowed to disturb it.  The service in the little house might not be as
+mechanically perfect as in some others, the meals might vary in
+excellence, but that was a secondary affair.  "If a bad temper is a
+necessary accompaniment of a good cook, then--give me herbs!" she would
+cry, shrugging her pretty shoulders, and her husband agreed--with
+reservations!
+
+He was a very happy, a very contented man, and every day of his life he
+thanked God afresh for his happy home, for his children, for the
+greatest treasure of all, sweet Bridget, his wife!
+
+To-day, however, the disclosure had nothing to do with domestic
+revolutions, and Bridgie's tone in making her announcement held an
+unusual note of tragedy.
+
+"Dick, guess what!  You'll never guess!  Pixie's grown-up!"
+
+For a moment Captain Victor looked as was expected of him--utterly
+bewildered.  He lay back in his chair, his handsome face blank and
+expressionless, the while he stared steadily at his wife, and Bridgie
+stared back, her distress palpably mingled with complacence.  Speak she
+would not, until Dick had given expression to his surprise.  She sat
+still, therefore, shaking her head in a melancholy mandarin fashion,
+which had the undesired effect of restoring his complacence.
+
+"My darling, what unnecessary woe!  It's astounding, I grant you; one
+never expected such a feat of Pixie; but the years _will_ pass--there's
+no holding them, unfortunately.  How old is she, by the way?  Seventeen,
+I suppose--eighteen?"
+
+"_Twenty_--nearly twenty-one!"
+
+Bridgie's tone was tragic, and Dick Victor in his turn looked startled
+and grave.  He frowned, bit his lip, and stared thoughtfully across the
+room.
+
+"Twenty-one?  Is it possible?  Grown-up, indeed!  Bridgie, we should
+have realised this before.  We have been so content with things as they
+were that we've been selfishly blind.  If Pixie is over twenty we have
+not been treating her fairly.  We have treated her too much as a child.
+We ought to have entertained for her, taken her about."
+
+Bridgie sighed, and dropped her eyelids to hide the twinkle in her eyes.
+Like most husbands Dick preferred a quiet domestic evening at the end
+of a day abroad: like most wives Bridgie would have enjoyed a little
+diversion at the end of a day at home.  Sweetly and silently for nearly
+half a dozen years she had subdued her preferences to his, feeling it at
+once her pleasure and her duty to do so, but now, if duty suddenly
+assumed the guise of a gayer, more sociable life, then most cheerfully
+would Irish Bridgie accept the change.
+
+"I think, dear," she said primly, "it _would_ be wise.  Esmeralda has
+said so many a time, but I took no notice.  I never did take any notice
+of Esmeralda, but she was right this time, it appears, and I was wrong.
+Imagine it!  Pixie began bemoaning that she was not pretty, and it was
+not herself she was grieving for, or you, or _Me_!"--Bridgie's voice
+sounded a crescendo of amazement over that last pronoun--"but whom do
+you suppose?  You'll never guess!  Her future _lovers_!"
+
+It was just another instance of the provokingness of man that at this
+horrible disclosure Dick threw himself back in his chair in a peal of
+laughter; he laughed and laughed till the tears stood in his eyes, and
+Bridgie, despite herself, joined in the chorus.  The juxtaposition of
+Pixie and lovers had proved just as startling to him as to his wife, but
+while she had been scandalised, he was frankly, whole-heartedly amused.
+
+"Pixie!" he cried.  "Pixie with a lover!  It would be about as easy to
+think of Patsie.  Dear, quaint little Pixie!  Who dares to say she isn't
+pretty?  Her funny little nose, her big, generous mouth are a hundred
+times more charming than the ordinary pretty face.  I'll tell you what
+it is, darling,"--he sobered suddenly;--"Pixie's lover, whoever he may
+be, will be an uncommonly lucky fellow!"
+
+Husband and wife sat in silence for some moments after this, hand in
+hand, as their custom was in hours of privacy, while the thoughts of
+each pursued the same subject--Pixie's opening life and their own duty
+towards it.
+
+On both minds was borne the unwilling realisation that their own home
+was not the ideal abode to afford the experience of life, the open
+intercourse with young people of her own age which it was desirable that
+the girl should now enjoy.  As a means of adding to his income Captain
+Victor had accepted the position of adjutant to a volunteer corps in a
+northern city, and, as comparatively new residents, his list of
+acquaintances was but small.
+
+Esmeralda, or to speak more correctly, Joan, the second daughter of the
+O'Shaughnessy family, as the wife of the millionaire, Geoffrey Hilliard,
+possessed a beautiful country seat not sixty miles from town, while
+Jack, the eldest brother, had returned to the home of his fathers, Knock
+Castle, in Ireland, on the money which his wife had inherited from her
+father, after he had become engaged to her in her character of a
+penniless damsel.  Jack was thankful all his life to remember that fact,
+though his easy-going Irish nature found nothing to worry about in the
+fact that the money was legally his wife's, and not his own.
+
+Both Esmeralda as a society queen, and Sylvia as chatelaine of Knock,
+had opportunities of showing life to a young girl, with which Bridgie in
+her modest little home in a provincial town could not compete.
+Nevertheless, the heart of the tender elder sister was loath to part
+from her charge at the very moment when watchfulness and guidance were
+most important.  She fought against the idea; assured herself that there
+was time, plenty of time.  What, after all, was twenty-one?  In two,
+three years one might talk about society; in the meantime let the child
+be!  And Captain Victor, in his turn, looked into the future, and saw
+his Bridgie left sisterless in this strange town, bereft all day long of
+the society of the sweetest and most understanding of companions, and
+he, too, sighed, and asked himself what was the hurry.  Surely another
+year, a couple of years!  And then, being _one_ in reality as well as in
+name, the eyes of husband and wife met and lingered, and, as if at the
+sweep of an angel's wing, the selfish thoughts fell away, and they faced
+their duty and accepted it once for all.
+
+Bridgie leaned her head on her husband's shoulder and sighed thankfully.
+
+"I have you, Dick, and the children!  'Twould be wicked to complain."
+
+And Dick murmured gruffly--
+
+"I want no one but you," and held her tightly in his arms, while Bridgie
+sniffed, and whimpered, like one of her own small children.
+
+"But if P-ixie--_if_ Pixie is unhappy--if any wretched man breaks
+Pixie's heart--"
+
+"He couldn't!"  Dick Victor said firmly.  "No man could.  That's beyond
+them.  Heart's like Pixie's don't break, Honey!  I don't say they, may
+not ache at times, but breaking is a different matter.  Your bantling is
+grown-up: you can keep her no longer beneath your wing.  She must go out
+into the world, and work and suffer like the rest, but she'll win
+through.  Pixie the woman will be a finer creature than Pixie the
+child!"
+
+But Bridgie hid her face, and the tears rushed into her eyes, for hers
+was the mother's heart which longed ever to succour and protect, and
+Pixie was the child whom a dying father had committed to her care.  It
+was hard to let Pixie go.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FOUR.
+
+THE INVITATION.
+
+The immediate consequence of the Pixie pronouncement was a
+correspondence between her two elder sisters, wherein Bridgie ate
+humble-pie, and Esmeralda rode the high horse after the manner born.
+
+"You were right about Pixie, darling.  It _is_ dull for her here in this
+strange town, where we have _so_ few friends; and now that she is nearly
+twenty-one it does not seem right to shut her up.  She ought to go about
+and see the world, and meet boys and girls of her own age.  And so,
+dear, would it be convenient to you to have her for a few months until
+you go up to town?  Your life in the country will seem a whirl of gaiety
+after our monotonous jog-trot, and she has been so useful and diligent,
+helping me these last years with never a thought for her own enjoyment,
+that she deserves all the fun she can get.  I am sad at parting from
+her, but if it's for her good I'll make the effort.  She has two nice
+new frocks, and I could get her another for parties."  Thus Bridgie.
+Esmeralda's reply came by return--the big, slanting writing, plentifully
+underlined--
+
+"_At last_, my dear, you have come to your senses.  For a sweet-tempered
+person, you certainly have, as I've told you before, a surprising amount
+of obstinacy.  In future do try to believe that in matters of worldly
+wisdom I know best, and be ruled by me!
+
+"Pixie can come at once--the sooner the better, but for pity's sake, my
+dear, spare me the frocks.  Felice can run her up a few things to last
+until I have time to take her to town.  If I am to take her about, she
+must be dressed to please _me_, and do _me_ credit.
+
+"We have people coming and going all the time, and I'll be thankful to
+have her.  I wouldn't say so for the world, Bridgie, but you _have_ been
+selfish about Pixie!  Never a bit of her have I had to myself; she has
+come for the regular Christmas visits, of course, and sometimes in
+summer, but it's always been with you and Dick and the children; it's
+only the leavings of attention she's had to spare for any one else.  Now
+my boys will have a chance!  Perhaps she can keep them in order--_I_
+can't!  They are the pride and the shame, and the joy and the grief, and
+the sunshine and the--thunder and lightning and earthquake of my life.
+Bridgie, did you ever think it would feel like that to be a mother?  I
+thought it would be all pure joy, but there's a big ache mixed in--
+
+"Geoff was so naughty this morning, so disobedient and rude, and I
+prayed, Bridgie--I shut myself in my room and prayed for patience, and
+then went down and spoke to him so sweetly.  You'd have loved to hear
+me.  I said: `If you want to grow up a good, wise man like father, you
+must learn to be gentle and polite.  Did you ever hear father speak
+rudely to me?'--`Oh, no,' says he, quite simply, `_but I've often heard
+you speak rudely to him_!'  Now, what was a poor misguided mother to say
+to that?  Especially when it was True!  You are never cross, so your
+youngsters can never corner you like that; but I am--often!  Which
+proves that I need Pixie more than you do, and she'd better hurry
+along."
+
+Pixie came lightly into the dining-room, just as Bridgie was reading the
+last words of the letter.  She was almost invariably late for breakfast,
+a fact which was annoying to Captain Victor's soldierly sense of
+punctuality.  He looked markedly at the clock, and Pixie said genially,
+"I apologise, me dear.  The young need sleep!"  Then she fell to work at
+her porridge with healthy enjoyment.  She wore a blue serge skirt and a
+bright, red silk shirt, neatly belted by a strip of patent-leather.  The
+once straggly locks were parted in the middle, and swathed round a
+little head which held itself jauntily aloft; her eyes danced, her lips
+curved.  It was a bare eight o'clock in the morning, a period when most
+people are languid and half-awake.  But there was no languor about
+Pixie; she looked intensely, brilliantly alive.  A stream of vitality
+seemed to emanate from her little form and fill the whole room.  The dog
+stirred on the rug and rose to his feet; the canary hopped to a higher
+perch and began to sing; Dick Victor felt an access of appetite, and
+helped himself to a second egg and more bacon.
+
+"This is Wednesday," announced Pixie genially, "and it's fine.  I love
+fine Wednesdays!  It's a habit from the old school-time, when they were
+half-holidays, and meant so, much. ...  I wonder what nice thing will
+happen to-day."
+
+Husband and wife exchanged a glance.  They knew and loved this habit of
+expecting happiness, and looking forward to the joys rather than the
+sorrows of the future, which had all her life, been characteristic of
+Pixie O'Shaughnessy.  They realised that it was to this quality of mind,
+rather than to external happenings, that she owed her cheerful serenity,
+but this morning it was impossible not to wonder how she would view the
+proposed change of abode.
+
+"I've had a letter from Esmeralda," announced Bridgie baldly from behind
+the urn, and, quick as thought, Pixie's sharp eyes searched her face.
+
+"But that's not nice.  It's given you a wrinkle.  Take no notice, and
+she'll write to-morrow to say she's sorry.  She's got to worry or die,
+but there's no reason why you should die too.  Roll it up into spills,
+and forget all about it."
+
+"I can't--it's important.  And she's not worrying.  It's very--" Bridgie
+paused for a moment, just one moment, to swallow that accusation of
+selfishness--"_kind_!  Pixie darling, it's about _You_."
+
+"Me!" cried Pixie, and dropped her spoon with a clang.  Bridgie had
+already pushed back her chair from the table; Pixie pushed hers to
+follow suit.  Such a prosaic affair as breakfast had plainly vanished
+from their thoughts, but Captain Victor had by no means forgotten, nor
+did it suit him to face emotional scenes to an accompaniment of bacon
+and eggs.
+
+"_After_ breakfast, please!" he cried, in what his wife described as his
+"barracks" voice, and which had the effect in this instance of making
+her turn on the tap of the urn so hurriedly that she had not had time to
+place her cup underneath.  She blushed and frowned.  Pixie deftly moved
+the toast-rack so as to conceal the damage, and proceeded to eat a
+hearty breakfast with undiminished appetite.
+
+It was not until Captain Victor had left the room to pay his morning
+visit to the nursery, that Bridgie again referred to her sister's
+letter, and then her first words were of reproach.
+
+"How you could sit there, Pixie, eating your breakfast, as calm as you
+please, when you knew there was news--news that concerned yourself!"
+
+"I was hungry," said Pixie calmly.  "And I love excitement; it's the
+breath of my nostrils.  All the while I was making up stories, with
+myself as heroine.  I'm afraid it will be only disappointment I'll feel
+when you tell me.  Truth is so tame, compared to imagination.  Besides,
+there was Dick!"  She smiled a forbearing, elderly smile.  "You can't
+live in the house with Dick without learning self-control.  He's so--"
+
+"He's not!" contradicted Dick's wife, with loyal fervour.  "Dick was
+quite right; he always is.  It was his parents who were to blame for
+making him English."  She sighed, and stared reflectively out of the
+window.  "We ought to be thankful, Pixie, that we are Irish through and
+through.  It means so much that English people can't even understand--
+seeing jokes when they are sad, and happiness when they are bored and
+being poor and not caring, and miserable and forgetting, and interested,
+and excited--"
+
+"Every single hour!" concluded Pixie deeply, and they laughed in
+concert.  In the contemplation of the advantages of an Irish temperament
+they had come near forgetting the real subject of discussion, but the
+sight of the letter on the table before her recalled it to Bridgie's
+remembrance.  She straightened her back and assumed an air of
+responsibility, a natural dramatic instinct prompting her to play her
+part in appropriate fashion.
+
+"Dick and I have been feeling, my dear, that as you are now really
+grown-up, you ought to be having a livelier time than we can give you in
+this strange town, and Esmeralda has been saying the same thing for
+years past.  She feels we have been rather selfish in keeping you so
+much to ourselves, and thinks that it is her turn to have you to live
+with her for a time.  We think so too, Pixie.  Not for altogether, of
+course.  For three or four months, say; and then you might go over to
+Knock, and come back to us again for Christmas.  Of course, darling, you
+understand that we don't _want_ you to go!"
+
+Pixie stared silently across the table.  She had grown rather white, and
+her brows were knitted in anxious consideration.
+
+"Bridget Victor," she said solemnly, "is it the truth, the whole truth,
+and nothing but the truth you are telling me, or is it just an excuse to
+get me out of the way?  If there's any trouble, or worry, or illness, or
+upset coming on, that you want to spare me because I'm young, you'd
+better know at once that it will only be the expense of the journey
+wasted, for on the very first breath of it I'd fly back to you if it was
+across the world!"
+
+"I know it," said Bridgie, and blinked back a tear.  "But it's the whole
+truth, and nothing but the truth, Pixie, that we are the happiest, and
+the healthiest, and the contentedest little family in the country, and
+there's no need to worry about us.  We were thinking only of you, and
+you are free in this instance to think only of yourself."
+
+"That's agreeable!" was Pixie's comment.  The frown left her brow and
+she smiled, the wide lips parting to show brilliantly white little
+teeth, teeth very nearly as pretty and infantile as those belonging to
+the small Patsie upstairs.  Beholding that smile, Bridgie had no doubt
+as to the verdict which she was about to hear, and suffered an
+unreasoning pang of disappointment.
+
+"Then I'll confess to you, my dear," continued Pixie affably, "that I
+find myself just in the mood for excitement.  So long as you are well
+there's nothing on earth I'd love so much at this moment as to go off on
+a junket.  If Esmeralda wants to give me a good time, let the poor thing
+have her way--_I'll_ not hinder her!  I'll go, and I'll love it; but
+I'll not promise how long I shall stay--all sorts of things may happen."
+
+"Yes," said Bridgie dreamily, "all sorts of things!"
+
+And so Pixie O'Shaughnessy went forth to meet her fate.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FIVE.
+
+IN MARBLE HALLS.
+
+Mrs Geoffrey Hilliard, _nee_ Joan O'Shaughnessy, was the second
+daughter of the family, and had been christened Esmeralda "for short" by
+the brothers and sisters of whom she had been alternately the pride and
+the trial.  The fantastic name had an appropriateness so undeniable that
+even Joan's husband had adopted it in his turn for use in the family
+circle, reserving the more dignified "Joan" for more ceremonious
+occasions.
+
+"Esmeralda" had been a beauty from her cradle, and would be a beauty if
+she lived to be a hundred, for her proud, restless features were
+perfectly chiselled, and her great grey eyes, with the long black lashes
+on the upper and lower lid, were as eloquent as they were lovely.  When
+she was angry, they seemed to send out veritable flashes of fire; when
+she was languid, the white lids drooped and the fringed eyelashes veiled
+them in a misty calm; when she was loving, when she held her boys in her
+arms, or spoke a love word in her husband's ear, ah!  Then it was a joy
+indeed to behold the beauty of those limpid eyes!  They "melted" indeed,
+not with tears, but with the very essence of tenderness and love.
+
+"Esmeralda's so nice that you couldn't believe she was so horrid!"
+Pixie had declared once in her earlier years, and unfortunately there
+was still too much truth in the pronouncement.
+
+Seven years of matrimony, and the responsibility of two young sons, had
+failed to discipline the hasty, intolerant nature, although they had
+certainly deepened the inner longing for improvement.  Joan devotedly
+loved her husband, but accepted as her right his loyal devotion, and
+felt bitterly aggrieved when his forbearance occasionally gave way.
+
+She adored her two small sons, and her theories on motherhood were so
+sweet and lofty that Bridgie, listening thereto, had been moved to
+tears.  But in practice the theories were apt to go to the wall.  To do
+Joan justice she would at any time have marched cheerfully to the stake
+if by so doing she could have saved her children from peril, but she was
+incapable of being patient during one long rainy afternoon, when
+confinement in the house had aroused into full play those mischievous
+instincts characteristic of healthy and spirited youngsters; and if any
+one imagines that the two statements contradict each other, he has yet
+to learn that heroic heights of effort are easier of accomplishment than
+a steady jog-trot along a dull high-road.
+
+Joan Hilliard's reflections on the coming of her younger sister were
+significant of her mental attitude.  "Pixie's no trouble.  She's such an
+easy soul.  She fits into corners and fills in the gaps.  She'll amuse
+the boys.  It will keep them in good humour to have her to invent new
+games.  She'll keep Geoff company at breakfast when I'm tired.  I'll get
+some of the duty visits over while she's here.  She'll talk to the
+bores, and be so pleased at the sound of her own voice that she'll never
+notice they don't answer.  And she'll cheer me up when _I'm_ bored.
+And, of course, I'll take her about--"
+
+Pixie's amusement, it will be noticed, was but a secondary consideration
+to Joan's own ease and comfort; for though it may be a very enjoyable
+experience to be a society beauty and exchange poverty for riches, no
+one will be brave enough to maintain that such an experience is
+conducive to the growth of spiritual qualities.  Sweet-hearted Bridgie
+might possibly have come unscathed through the ordeal, but Esmeralda was
+made of a different clay.
+
+Pixie started alone on the three hours' journey, for the Victor
+household possessed no maid who could be spared, and husband and wife
+were both tied by home duties; moreover, being a modern young woman, she
+felt perfectly competent to look after herself, and looked forward to
+the experience with pleasure rather than dread.  Bridgie was inclined to
+be tearful at parting, and Pixie's artistic sense prompted a similar
+display, but she found herself simply incapable of forcing a tear.
+
+"It's worse for you than for me," she confessed candidly, "for you've
+nothing to do, poor creature!  But go home to cold mutton and darning,
+while I'm off to novelty and adventure.  That's why the guests sometimes
+cry at a wedding, out of pity for themselves, because they can't go off
+on a honeymoon with a trousseau and an adoring groom.  They pretend it's
+sympathetic emotion, but it isn't; it's nothing in the world but selfish
+regret. ...  Don't cry, darling; it makes me feel so mean.  Think of the
+lovely _tete-a-tete_ this will mean for Dick and you!"
+
+"Yes--in the evenings.  I'll love that!" confessed Bridgie, with the
+candour of her race.  "But oh, Pixie, the long, dull days, and no one to
+laugh with me at the jokes the English can't see, or to make pretend!--"
+
+"Ah!" mourned Pixie deeply, "I'll miss that, too!  The times we've had,
+imagining a fortune arriving by the afternoon post, and spending it all
+before dinner!  All the fun, and none of the trouble.  But it's dull,
+imagining all by oneself!  And Dick's no good.  He calls it waste of
+time!  I shall marry an Irishman, Bridgie, when my time comes!"
+
+"Get into the train and don't talk nonsense!" said Bridgie firmly.  She
+felt it prophetic that on this eve of departure Pixie's remarks should
+again touch on husbands and weddings, but not for the world would she
+have hinted as much.  She glanced at the other occupant of the
+carriage--a stout, middle-aged woman, and was on the point of inviting
+her chaperonage when a warning gleam in Pixie's eyes silenced the words
+on her lips.  So presently the train puffed out of the station, and
+Bridgie Victor turned sadly homewards even as Pixie seated herself with
+a bounce, and smiled complacently into space.
+
+"That's over!" she said to herself with a sigh of relief, glad as ever,
+to be done with painful things and able to look forward to the good to
+come.  "She thinks she's miserable, the darling, but she'll be as happy
+as a grig the moment she gets back to Dick and the children.  That's the
+worst of living with married sisters!  They can manage so well without
+you.  I'd prefer some one who was frantic if I turned my back--"
+
+She smiled at the thought, and met an ingratiating smile upon the face
+of her travelling companion.  The companion was stout and elderly,
+handsomely dressed, and evidently of a sociable disposition.  It was the
+height of her ambition on a railway journey to meet another woman to
+whom she could shout confidences for hours upon end, but it was rarely
+that her sentiments were returned.  Fate had been kind to her to-day in
+placing Pixie O'Shaughnessy in the same carriage.
+
+"The young lady seemed quite distressed to leave you.  Is she your
+sister?"
+
+"She is.  Do you think we are alike?"
+
+"I--I wouldn't go so far as to say _alike_!" the large lady said
+blandly; "but there's a _look_!  As I always say, there's no knowing
+where you are with a family likeness.  My eldest girl--May--takes after
+her father; Felicia, the youngest, is the image of myself; yet they've
+been mistaken for each other times and again.  It's a turn of the
+chin.--Is she married?"
+
+"Who?  Bridgie--my sister?  Oh yes--very much.  Six years."
+
+"Dear me!  She looks so young!  My May is twenty-seven.  She has had her
+chances, of course.  Any children?"
+
+"Wh--" Pixie's mind again struggled after the connection.  "Oh, two--a
+boy and a girl.  They are called," she added, with a benevolent
+consciousness of sparing further effort, "Patrick and Patricia."
+
+"Irish, evidently," the large lady decided shrewdly.  "Rather awkward,
+isn't it, about pet names, and laundry marks, and so forth?  However.
+...  And so you've been paying her a visit, I suppose, and are returning
+to your home?"
+
+"One of my homes," corrected Pixie happily.  "I have three.  Two sisters
+and one brother.  And they all like to have me.  My parents are dead."
+Her tone showed that the loss referred to was of many years' standing;
+nevertheless, the stout lady hurriedly changed the conversation, as
+though fearful of painful reminiscences.
+
+"I have been having a morning's shopping.  We live _quite_ in the
+country, and I come to town every time I need a new gown.  I have been
+arranging for one this morning, for a wedding.  So difficult, when one
+has no ideas!  I chose purple."
+
+Pixie cocked her head on one side and thoughtfully pursed her lips.
+
+"Very nice!  Yes, purple's so--_portly_!"  She surprised a puckering of
+the large lady's face, and hastened to supplement the description.
+"Portly, and--er--regal, and _duchessy_, don't you think?  I met a
+duchess once--she was rather like you--and _she_ wore purple!"
+
+The large lady expanded in a genial warmth.  Her lips opened in a
+breathless question--
+
+"How was the bodice made?"
+
+Pixie reflected deeply.
+
+"I can't exactly _say_!  But it was years ago.  It would be quite
+_demode_.  For a wedding, of course, you must be up to date.  Weddings
+make a fuss for months, and are so _soon_ over--I mean for the guests.
+They are not _much_ fun."
+
+"Where did you meet the Duchess?"
+
+"Oh, at my sister's--the one I am going to now.  In her town house, at a
+reception one afternoon.  She had a purple dress with lace, and a Queen
+Victoria sort of bonnet with strings, and little white feathers sticking
+up in the front; and she had a--" Pixie smiled into space with
+reminiscent enjoyment--"_beautiful_ sense of humour!"
+
+The large lady looked deeply impressed, and, beginning at the topmost
+ribbon on Pixie's hat, stared steadily downward to the tip of the little
+patent-leather shoe, evidently expecting to find points of unusual
+interest in the costume of a girl whose sister entertained a duchess in
+her town house.  The train had rattled through a small hamlet and come
+out again into the open before she spoke again.
+
+"Do you see many of them?"
+
+"Which?  What?  Bonnets?  Feathers?  I don't think I quite--"
+
+"Duchesses!" said the large lady deeply.  And Pixie, who still preserved
+her childish love of cutting a dash, fought with, and overcame an
+unworthy temptation to invent several such titles on the spot.
+
+"Not--many," she confessed humbly, "But, you see, I'm so young--I'm
+hardly `out.'  The sister with whom I've been living has not been able
+to entertain.  Where I'm going it is different.  I expect to be very
+gay."
+
+The large lady nodded brightly.
+
+"Quite right!  Quite right!  Only young once.  Laugh while you may.  I
+like to see young things enjoying themselves. ...  And then you'll be
+getting engaged, and marrying."
+
+"Oh, of course," assented Pixie, with an alacrity in such sharp contrast
+with the protests with which the modern girl sees fit to meet such
+prophecies, that the hearer was smitten not only with surprise but
+anxiety.  An expression of real motherly kindliness shone in her eyes as
+she fixed them upon the girl's small, radiant face.
+
+"I hope it will be `of course,' dear, and that you may be very, very
+happy; but it's a serious question.  I'm an old-fashioned body, who
+believes in love.  If it's the real thing it _lasts_, and it's about the
+only thing upon which you can count.  Health comes and goes, and riches
+take wing.  When I married Papa he was in tin-plates, and doing well,
+but owing to American treaties (you wouldn't understand!) we had to put
+down servants and move into a smaller house.  Now, if I'd married him
+for money, how should I have felt _then_?"
+
+Pixie wagged her head with an air of the deepest dejection.  She was
+speculating as to the significance of tin-plates, but thought it tactful
+not to inquire.
+
+"I hope--" she breathed deeply--"I hope the tin-plates--" and her
+companion gathered together her satchel and cloak in readiness for
+departure at the next station, nodding a cheerful reassurance.
+
+"Oh, yes; _quite_ prosperous again!  Have been for years.  But it only
+shows. ...  And Papa has attacks of gout.  They are trying, my dear, to
+_me_, as well as to himself; but if you love a man--well, it comes
+easier. ...  Here's my station.  So glad to have met you!  I'll remember
+about the purple."
+
+The train stopped, and the good lady alighted and passed through the
+wicket-gate, and her late companion watched her pass with a sentimental
+sigh.
+
+"`Ships that pass in the night, and signal each other in passing.'  She
+took to me, and I took to her.  She'll talk about me all evening to May
+and Felicia, and the tin-plate Papa, and ten chances to one we'll never
+meet again.  `It's a sad world, my masters!'" sighed Pixie, and dived in
+her bag for a chocolate support.
+
+The rest of the journey brought no companion so confidential, and Pixie
+was heartily glad to arrive at her destination, and as the train
+slackened speed to run into the station, to catch a glimpse of Esmeralda
+sitting straight and stately in a high cart ready to drive her visitor
+back to the Hall.  Motors were very well in their way--useful trainlets
+ready to call at one's own door and whirl one direct to the place where
+one would be, but the girl who had hunted with her father since she was
+a baby of four years old was never _so_ happy as when she was in command
+of a horse.  As the new-comer climbed up into the high seat the
+beautiful face was turned towards her with a smile as sweet and loving
+as Bridgie's own.
+
+"Well, Pixie!  Ah, dearie, this is good.  I've got you at last."
+
+"Esmeralda, _darling_!  What an angel you look!"
+
+"Don't kiss me in public, _please_," snapped Esmeralda, becoming prosaic
+with startling rapidity at the first hint of visible demonstration.  She
+signalled to the groom, and off they went, trotting down the country
+lane in great contentment of spirits.
+
+"How's everybody?" asked Esmeralda.  "Well?  That's right.  You can tell
+me the details later on.  Now, you have just to forget Bridgie for a
+bit, and think of _Me_.  I've wanted you for years, and I told Bridgie
+to her face she was selfish to keep you away.  If I'm not a good
+example, you can take example by my faults, and isn't that just as good?
+And there's so much that I want you to do.  You always loved to help,
+didn't you, Pixie?"
+
+"I did," assented Pixie, but the quick ears of the listener detected a
+hint of hesitation in the sound.  The dark eyebrows arched in haughty
+questioning, and Pixie, no whit abashed, shrugged her shoulders and
+confessed with a laugh: "But to tell you the truth, my dear, it was not
+so much for helping, as for having a good time for myself, that I
+started on this trip.  Bridgie said I'd been domestic long enough, and
+needed to play for a change, and there's a well of something bubbling up
+inside me that longs, simply _longs_, for a vent.  Of course, if one
+could combine the two..."
+
+Joan Hilliard looked silently into the girl's bright face and made a
+mental comparison.  She thought of the round of change and amusement
+which constituted her own life, and then of the little house in the
+northern city in which Pixie's last years had been spent; of the
+monotonous, if happy, round of duties, every day the same, from year's
+end to year's end, of the shortage of means, of friends, of
+opportunities, and a wave of compunction overwhelmed her.  Esmeralda
+never did things by halves; neither had she any false shame about
+confessing her faults.
+
+"I'm a selfish brute," she announced bluntly.  "I deserve to be
+punished.  If I go on like this I _shall_ be some day!  I'm always
+thinking of myself, when I'm not in a temper with some one else.  It's
+an awful thing, Pixie, to be born into the world with a temper.  And
+now, Geoff has inherited it from me."  She sighed, shook the reins, and
+brightened resolutely.  "Never mind, you _shall_ have a good time,
+darling!  There's a girl staying in the house now--you'll like her--and
+two young men, and lots of people coming in and out."
+
+Pixie heaved a sigh of beatific content.
+
+"To-night?  At once?  That's what I love--to tumble pell-mell into a
+whirl of dissipation.  I never could bear to wait.  I'm pining to see
+Geoffrey and the boys, and all your wonderful new possessions.  You must
+be happy, Esmeralda, to have so much, and be so well, and pretty, and
+rich.  Aren't you just burstingly happy?"
+
+Joan did not answer.  She stared ahead over the horse's head with a
+strange, rapt look in the wonderful eyes.  An artist would have loved to
+paint her at that moment, but it would not have been as a type of
+happiness.  The expression spoke rather of struggle, of restlessness,
+and want--a spiritual want which lay ever at the back of the excitement
+and glamour, clamouring to be filled.
+
+Pixie looked at her sister, just once, and then averted her eyes.  Hers
+was the understanding which springs from love, and she realised that her
+simple question had struck a tender spot.  Instead of waiting for an
+answer she switched the conversation to ordinary, impersonal topics, and
+kept it there until the house was reached.
+
+Tea was waiting in the large inner hall, and the girl visitor came
+forward to be introduced and shake hands.  She was a slim, fair creature
+with masses of hair of a pale flaxen hue, swathed round her head, and
+held in place by large amber pins.  Not a hair was out of place--the
+effect was more like a bandage of pale brown silk than ordinary human
+locks.  Her dress was made in the extreme of the skimpy fashion, and her
+little feet were encased in the most immaculate of silk shoes and
+stockings.  She looked Pixie over in one quick, appraising glance, and
+Pixie stared back with widened eyes.
+
+"My sister, Patricia O'Shaughnessy," declaimed Esmeralda.  Whereupon the
+strange girl bowed and repeated, "Miss Pat-ricia O'Shaughnessy.  Pleased
+to meet you," in a manner which proclaimed her American birth as
+unmistakably as a flourish of the Stars and Stripes.
+
+Then tea was brought in, and two young men joined the party, followed by
+the host, Geoffrey Hilliard, who gave the warmest of welcomes to his
+little sister-in-law.  His kiss, the grasp of his hand, spoke of a
+deeper feeling than one of mere welcome, and Pixie had an instant
+perception that Geoffrey, like his wife, felt in need of help.  The
+first glance had shown him more worn and tired than a man should be who
+has youth, health, a beautiful wife, charming children, and more money
+than he knows how to spend; but whatever hidden troubles might exist,
+they were not allowed to shadow this hour of meeting.
+
+"Sure, and this is a sight for sore eyes!" he cried, with a would-be
+adaptation of an Irish accent.  "You're welcome, Pixie--a hundred times
+welcome.  We're overjoyed to see you, dear."
+
+Pixie beamed at him, with an attention somewhat diverted by the two
+young men who stared at her from a few yards' distance.  One was tall
+and fair, the other dark and thick set, and when Esmeralda swept forward
+to make the formal introductions it appeared that the first rejoiced in
+the name of Stanor Vaughan, and the second in the much more ordinary one
+of Robert Carr.
+
+"My sister Patricia," once more announced Mrs Hilliard, and though the
+young men ascribed Pixie's blush to a becoming modesty, it arose in
+reality from annoyance at the sound of the high-sounding title which had
+been so persistently dropped all her life.  Surely Esmeralda was not
+going to insist upon "Patricia!"
+
+For a few moments everybody remained standing, the men relating their
+experiences of the afternoon, while Esmeralda waited for some further
+additions to the tea-table, and Pixie's quick-seeing eyes roamed here
+and there gathering impressions to be stored away for later use.  She
+was too excited, too interested, to talk herself, but her ears were as
+quick as her eyes, and so it happened that she caught a fragment of
+conversation between Miss Ward and the tall Mr Vaughan, which was
+certainly not intended for her ears.
+
+"...A _sister_!" he was repeating in tones of incredulous astonishment.
+"A sister!  But how extraordinarily unlike!  She must have thrown in her
+own beauty to add to Mrs Hilliard's share!"
+
+"Oh, hush!" breathed the girl urgently.  "_She heard_!"
+
+Stanor Vaughan lifted his head sharply and met Pixie's watching eyes
+fixed upon him.  His own glance was tense and shamed, but to his
+amazement hers was friendly, humorous, undismayed.  There was no
+displeasure in her face, no hint of humiliation nor discomfiture--
+nothing, it would appear, but serene, unruffled agreement.
+
+Stanor Vaughan had not a good memory: few events of his youth remained
+with him after middle life, but when he was an old, old man that moment
+still remained vivid, when, in the place of rebuke, he first met the
+radiance of Pixie.  O'Shaughnessy's broad, sweet smile.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER SIX.
+
+A TALK ABOUT MEN--AND PICKLES.
+
+Stanor Vaughan was deputed to take Pixie in to dinner that evening, an
+arrangement which at the beginning of the meal appeared less agreeable
+to him than to his partner.  He cast furtive glances at the small,
+plain, yet mysteriously attractive little girl, who was the sister of
+the beautiful Mrs Hilliard, the while she ate her soup, and found
+himself attacked by an unusual nervousness.  He didn't know what to say:
+he didn't know how to say it.  He had made a bad start, and he wished
+with all his heart that he could change places with Carr and "rot" with
+that jolly Miss Ward.  All the same, he found himself curiously
+attracted by this small Miss O'Shaughnessy, and he puzzled his handsome
+head to discover why.
+
+There was no beauty in the little face, and, as a rule, Stanor, as he
+himself would have expressed it, had "no use" for a girl who was plain.
+What really attracted him was the happiness and serenity which shone in
+Pixie's face, as light shines through the encircling glass, for to human
+creatures as to plants the great necessity of life is sun, and its
+attraction is supreme.  Walk along a crowded street and watch the
+different faces of the men and women as they pass by--grey faces, drab
+faces, white faces, yellow faces, faces sad and cross, and lined and
+dull, faces by the thousand blank of any expression at all, and then
+here and there, at rare, rare intervals, a _live_ face that speaks.  You
+spy it afar off--a face with shining eyes, with lips curled ready for
+laughter, with arching brows, and tilted chin, and every little line and
+wrinkle speaking of _life_.
+
+That face is as a magnet to attract not only eyes, but hearts into the
+bargain; the passers-by, rouse themselves from their lethargy to smile
+back in sympathy, and pass on their way wafting mental messages of
+affection.--"What a _dear_ girl!" they cry, or "woman," or "man," as the
+case may be.  "What a charming face!  I should like to know that girl."
+And the girl with the happy face goes on _her_ way, all the happier for
+the kindly, thoughts by which she is pursued.
+
+When strangers were first introduced to Pixie O'Shaughnessy they
+invariably catalogued her as a plain-looking girl; when they had known
+her for an hour they began to feel that they had been mistaken, and at
+the end of a week they would have been prepared to quarrel with their
+best friend if he had echoed their own first judgment.  The charm of her
+personality soon overpowered the physical deficiency.
+
+Stanor Vaughan was as yet too young and prosperous to realise the real
+reason of Pixie's attraction.  He decided that it was attributable to
+her trim, jaunty little figure and the unusual fashion in which she
+dressed her hair.  Also she wore a shade of bright flame-coloured silk
+which made a special appeal to his artistic eye, and he approved of the
+simple, graceful fashion of its cut.
+
+"Looks as if she'd had enough stuff!" he said to himself, with all a
+man's dislike of the prevailing hobble.  He pondered how to open the
+conversation, asking himself uneasily what punishment the girl would
+award him for his _faux pas_ of the afternoon.  Would she be haughty?
+She didn't look the kind of little thing to be haughty!  Would she be
+cold and aloof?  Somehow, glancing at the irregular, piquant little
+profile, he could not imagine her aloof.  Would she snap?  Ah!  Now he
+was not so certain.  He saw distinct possibilities of snap, and then,
+just as he determined that he really must make the plunge and get it
+over, Pixie leaned confidentially toward him and said below her breath--
+
+"_Please_ talk!  Make a start--any start--and I'll go on. ...  It's your
+place to begin."
+
+"Er--er--" stammered Stanor, and promptly forgot every subject of
+conversation under the sun.  He stared back into the girl's face, met
+her honest eyes, and was seized with an impulse of confession.  "Before
+I say anything else, I--I ought to apologise, Miss O'Shaughnessy.  I'm
+most abominably ashamed.  I'm afraid you overheard my--er--er--w-what I
+said to Miss Ward at tea--"
+
+"Of course I heard," said Pixie, staring.  "What could you expect?  Not
+four yards away, and a great bass voice!  I'm not _deaf_.  But there's
+no need to feel sorry.  I thought you put it very nicely, myself!"
+
+"Nicely!"  He stared in amaze.  "_Nicely_!  How could you possibly--"
+
+"You said I had given Esmeralda my share.  I'd never once looked at it
+in that way; neither had any one else.  And it's _so soothing_.  It
+gives me a sort of credit, don't you see, as well as a pride."
+
+She was speaking honestly, transparently honestly; it was impossible to
+doubt that, with her clear eyes beaming upon him, her lips curling back
+in laughter from her small white teeth.  There was not one sign of
+rancour, of offence, of natural girlish vanity suffering beneath a blow.
+
+"Good sport!" cried Stanor, in a voice, however, which could be heard by
+no one but himself.  His embarrassment fell from him, but not his
+amazement; _that_ seemed to increase with each moment that passed.  His
+glance lingered on Pixie's face, the while he said incredulously--
+
+"It's--it's wonderful of you.  I've known heaps of girls, but never one
+who would have taken it like that.  You don't seem to have a scrap of
+conceit--"
+
+"Ex-cuse me," corrected Miss O'Shaughnessy.  For the first time she
+seemed to be slightly ruffled, as though the supposition that she could
+be bereft of any quality, or experience common to her kind was
+distinctly hurtful to her pride.  "I _have_!  Heaps!  But it's for the
+right things.  I've too much conceit to be conceited about things about
+which I've no _right_ to be conceited.  I'm only conceited about things
+about which I'm--"
+
+"Conceited enough to know are worth being jolly well conceited about,"
+concluded Stanor, and they laughed together in merry understanding.
+
+"That's it," agreed Pixie, nodding.  "I used to be conceited about being
+plain, because it was so unusual in our family that it was considered
+quite distinguished, and my father used to boast at the hunt that he had
+the ugliest child in the county, though it was himself that said it.
+But," she gave the slightest, most ephemeral of sighs, "I've lived
+through that.  I'm conceited now about--other things."
+
+"Lots of them, I'm sure.  There must be lots," agreed Stanor, with a
+sincerity which condoned the banality of the speech.  "About your good
+nature for one thing, I should say, and your generosity in forgiving a
+blundering man, and your jolly disposition which makes you smile when
+another girl would have been wild.  I can understand all those and a lot
+more, but, just as a matter of curiosity, I should like to know what are
+you conceited about _most_?"
+
+Pixie O'Shaughnessy smiled.  There was evidently no doubt in her own
+mind as to her reply.  The slim figure straightened, the little head
+tilted in air.  Quick and crisp came the reply--
+
+"I can make people do what I like!"
+
+"Can you, though!" exclaimed Stanor blankly.  The statement seemed to
+threaten a mysteriously personal application, and he relapsed into a
+ruminating silence, the while his companion employed herself cheerfully
+with her dinner and the looks and conversation of her companions.
+
+It was one of Pixie's special gifts to be able to do at least three
+things at the same time with quite a fair amount of success.  She could,
+for instance, write a business-like letter while carrying on an animated
+conversation with a friend, and keeping an eye on a small child
+tottering around the room.  Brain, eyes, and limb were alike so alert
+that what to slower natures would have been impossible, to her involved
+no effort at all.
+
+Therefore, when about two minutes later Stanor opened his lips again to
+utter a short, urgent "_How_?" she had not the slightest difficulty in
+switching back to the subject, though she had been at the moment in the
+midst of an absorbing calculation as to the number of yards of lace on a
+dress of a lady farther down the table, and in drawing mental designs of
+the way it was put on, to enclose to Bridgie in her next letter home.
+
+"How?"
+
+"I _understand_ them," said Pixie deeply.  "You can open any door if you
+have the key, but most people go on banging when it's shut.  I wait till
+I find my key, and then I keep it ready until the moment arrives when I
+wish to get in."
+
+Stanor's broad shoulders gave an involuntary movement which might almost
+have been taken for a shiver.  Once again he felt a mysterious
+conviction of a personal application.  All his life long the phrase had
+rung in his ears, "I don't understand you!"  "If I could once understand
+you!" and for lack of that understanding there had been trouble and
+coldness between himself and his nearest relative.  Proverbially he was
+difficult to understand; and he had prided himself on the reputation.
+Who wanted to be a simple, transparent fellow, whom any one could lead?
+This was the first time in his life that he had come into contact with a
+girl who announced herself an expert understander of human nature.  He
+wondered vaguely what, given the initial success, Pixie would wish him
+to do, hesitated on the point of inquiry, thought better of it and
+turned the conversation to impersonal topics.
+
+After dinner Pixie sat on a sofa in the drawing-room enjoying a
+temporary _tete-a-tete_ with the other girl visitor.  Miss Ward's hair
+was, if possible, smoother than ever, and she wore a velvet dress almost
+exactly matching it in shade, which seemed to Pixie's unsophisticated
+eyes an extraordinarily sumptuous garment for a young girl to wear.  Her
+eyes were brown, too--bright, quick-glancing eyes full of interest and
+curiosity.  When she spoke her nationality became once more conspicuous.
+
+"Miss Pat-ricia O'Shaughnessy, I guess you and I have got to be real
+good friends!  I've been spoiling for another girl to enjoy this trip
+with me.  If you're having a good time, it makes it twice as good to
+have a girl to go shares, and compare notes, and share the jokes.  You
+look to me as if you could enjoy a joke."
+
+"I was brought up to them," Pixie affirmed.  "I couldn't live without.
+There's nothing to eat, nor to drink, nor to do, nor to have that I
+couldn't give up at a pinch, but a sense of humour I--must have!  If you
+feel the same, we're friends from this minute. ...  Would you mind
+telling me as a start just exactly who you are?"
+
+Miss Ward's face fell.  Her white brows knitted in a frown.
+
+"I'm an Amurrican," she announced.  "Mr and Mrs Hilliard had an
+introduction to my people when they visited the States, and when I came
+over to Europe they invited me here.  I'm proud to death of being an
+Amurrican; that's of course!  But there's something else.  You might as
+well know it first as last."  She straightened herself and drew a
+fluttering breath.  "I'm in trade!  I'm Ward's Unrivalled Piquant
+Pickles!"
+
+"Wh-what?"  Pixie stammered in confusion, as well she might, for the
+announcement was unusual, to say the least of it.
+
+"Pickles!  Cauliflower, and cabbage, and little snippets of vegetables
+floating in piquant sauce, in fat, square bottles.  I make them in my
+factory.  If you went over to the States you'd see my placards on every
+wall, and inside magazines, and on the back sheets of newspapers--a big,
+fat man eating a plate of cold meat with Ward's unrivalled piquants by
+his side.  They used to be my father's: now they're mine.  _I_ am the
+Unrivalled Piquant Pickles.  I run the factory.  The profits grow more
+e-normous every year.  There's no other partners in it, only Me!"
+
+If at the beginning of her speech the speaker had made an affectation of
+humility, she certainly ended on a note of pride, and Pixie's admiration
+was transparently evident.
+
+"Think of that now!  A whole factory, and pickles, too!  I adore
+pickles, especially the fat, cauliflowery bits.  And to see one's own
+name on the hoardings!  I'd be so proud!"
+
+"Honest Injun, you would?  You don't feel proud and lofty because I'm in
+trade, and had a grandfather who couldn't read, while _your_ ancestors
+have been grandees for centuries?  Many English people _do_, you know.
+They have a way of looking at me as if I were a hundred miles away, and
+stunted at that.  And others who _do_ receive me don't trouble to hide
+that it's for the sake of the dollars.  A girl likes to be cared for for
+_herself_: she wants people should judge her by what she _is_.  It's a
+big handicap, Pat-ricia, to be too rich."
+
+"I'll take your word for it, me dear, having no experience," said Pixie
+graciously; "but I'd like to be tried.  As for caring--no one could help
+it.  I do already, and I've only known you three hours, and Esmeralda
+said you were nice enough to be Irish, and it isn't the easiest thing in
+the world to please _her_ fancy."
+
+"She's a beautiful princess.  She's been real sweet to me over here.
+I'm crazy about her!"  Honor affirmed in the slow, dragging voice which
+went so quaintly with her exaggerated language.  "But one Mrs Hilliard
+don't make a world.  You've got to be just as good to me as you know
+how, Pat-ricia, for I've got no one belonging to me on this side nearer
+than an elderly cousin, twice removed, and it's a lonesome feeling.
+
+"You see, it isn't only what people think of _me_, it's the mean,
+suspicious feelings I've gotten towards _them_, as the result of being
+brought up an heiress.  If I could tell you all I've endoored!  The
+things I've been told!  The things I've overheard!  Twenty-three men
+have asked me to marry them, and there wasn't an honest heart among the
+crowd.  I'm not a new-fashioned girl: I'm made so's I'd love my own
+home; but sure as fate I'll die an old maid, for _I_ run away from
+fortune-hunters, and the honest men run away from me.  If a man happened
+to be poor and proud, it would be a pretty stiff undertaking to propose
+to the biggest pickle factory in the world, and I guess I don't make it
+any easier.  You see it's like this: the more I'm anxious that--that,
+er--er," she stammered uncertainly for a moment, then with forcible
+emphasis brought out a plural pronoun, "_they_ should care for me really
+and truly for _myself_, the more I think that they only think--"
+
+"Exactly!" interrupted Pixie, nodding.  "I quite understand."  And
+indeed she looked so exceedingly alert and understanding that Honor
+flushed all over her small, pale face, and made haste to change the
+conversation.
+
+"How did you get on with your partner at dinner?  Pretty well, eh?  He
+can be real charming when he likes, and there's no doubt but he's good
+to look at.  I've met him quite a good deal since I've been over here,
+for he's been staying at several houses at the same time.  From a
+European point of view, we seem quite old friends, and I've a kind of
+fellow-feeling for him, poor boy, for he's a sufferer from my complaint
+of being too well off for his own good."
+
+Pixie nodded several times without speaking, her lips pursed in knowing,
+elderly fashion.
+
+"That accounts for it," she said, and when Honor queried eagerly as to
+her meaning, her reply had a blighting insinuation.
+
+"I'm accustomed to soldiers--men who can fight."
+
+"That's not fair!" cried Honor sharply.  She straightened herself and
+tilted her head at an aggressive angle.  "That's not fair.  I guess
+Stanor Vaughan and I have to go through our own military training, and
+it's a heap more complicated than marching round a barrack yard!  We're
+bound to make our own weapons, and our enemies are the worst that's
+made--the sort that comes skulking along in the guise of friends.  There
+aren't any bands playing, either, to cheer us along, and when we win
+there are no medals and honours, only maybe an aching heart!"
+
+She drew herself up with a startled little laugh.
+
+"Mussy!  Listen to me sermonising.--I guess I'd better get back to facts
+as fast as I know how. ...  When I said Stanor was _too_ well off, I
+didn't mean money exactly, but things are too easy for him all round.
+He's handsome, and strong, and clever, and charming, and there's an
+uncle in the background who plays fairy godfather and plans out his life
+ahead, so that he has nothing to worry about like other young men.  He's
+not an old uncle really: he's almost young, but he had an accident as a
+boy which laid him up for quite a spell, and turned him into a shy
+recluse.  Then when at last he recovered, he was lame, so of course he
+was cut off from active life, and I guess from what I've heard that he's
+sensitive about it.  Anyway, he lives all alone, and has adopted Stanor
+as a kind of son, and fusses over him like a hen with one chick--a bit
+more than the young man appreciates, I fancy."
+
+"How fuss?  In what way?"
+
+"Oh!  Ambitious, don't you know," Miss Ward explained vaguely.  "All the
+things he ever wanted to be and to do, and couldn't, he is determined
+that Stanor shall do for him.  He is clever, and studious, and serious,
+so he is set on it that the poor boy should be a book-worm, too, and put
+study before everything else, and have serious ideas on--er--er--the
+responsibility of property."  Honor frowned at the tips of her small
+satin shoes.  "Drains, you know, and cottages, and overcrowding the
+poor.  Of course that kind of thing comes easy enough when you are
+thirty-five and lame, but poor Stanor is only twenty-four, and as
+handsome as paint.  It's difficult to be serious-minded at twenty-four,
+and patient with people who fuss!"
+
+Pixie knitted her brows with an air of perturbation.
+
+"But I hope he is nice to his uncle.  It would be so hard to be hurt in
+your body and hurt in your mind at the same time.  It's bad enough for
+him, poor creature, to have to sit still and live his life through
+another.  His heart is not crippled, nor his mind, nor his will, and
+fancy, me dear, going on being patient, day after day, year after year,
+while your body held you back, and you longed, and couldn't, and felt
+the spirit to move a mountain, and were obliged to lie still on a sofa!"
+Pixie bounced in a characteristic fashion on her own sofa corner, and
+whisked a minute pocket-handkerchief to her eyes.  "Excuse me, me dear,
+will you change the conversation?  I was always soft-hearted, but red
+eyes at a dinner party are not _a la mode_. ...  Let's talk about
+pickles!--"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER SEVEN.
+
+PIXIE IS DULL.
+
+Geoffrey Hilliard and his two guests entered the drawing-room, and
+Pixie's eyes turned to greet them with a smile.  She was longing to talk
+to each one of them in turns, and with her usual complacency was assured
+that each would reciprocate the wish.  But the next moment brought with
+it a jar, for Geoffrey crossed the room to join his wife, and the two
+younger men made a bee-line for the chair by the _other_ side of the
+sofa, whereon Honor sat ensconced!
+
+It was only a minute, less than a minute, before Stanor had established
+a lead, and Mr Carr's deviation to the left was a triumph of smiling
+composure; nevertheless, Pixie's sharp eyes had seen and understood, and
+her heart felt a natural girlish pang.  At twenty it is hard to accept
+with resignation the part of second fiddle, and Pixie's generosity had
+its limits--as whose has not?  She had looked at Honor's pretty face and
+costly gown, had heard of her wealth and independence with the purest
+and most ungrudging pleasure, but when it became a case of superior
+popularity, that was a very different matter!  Positively, it was quite
+an effort to twist her lips into a smile to greet Mr Carr, and it made
+matters no better to perceive the artificiality of his response.
+
+He was a man several years older than the handsome Stanor, and his type
+of face was so essentially legal that his profession as barrister could
+be guessed even before it was known.  His chin was the most pronounced
+feature of the face--it was really interesting to discover just how
+assertive a chin could be.  It was a prominent, deeply indented
+specimen, which ascribed to itself so much power of expression that even
+the eyes themselves played a secondary part.  The tilt of it, the droop
+of it, the aggressive tilt forward were each equally eloquent, and, one
+felt sure, must make equal appeal to a British jury.
+
+At this moment, however, there was no jury at hand--only Pixie
+O'Shaughnessy, feeling very small and snubbed in her corner of the sofa,
+and robbed for the moment of her accustomed aplomb by the blighting
+consciousness that she was not wanted.
+
+Robert Carr's chin was leaning very dejectedly forward; he would have
+voted his companion a tongue-tied little bore if Stanor Vaughan had not
+taken the opportunity of a moment when his host was absent from the
+dining-room to recount her "sporting" forgiveness of his own _faux pas_.
+
+"That's the right sort.  I like that girl!" had been Robert's reply, and
+the good impression was strong enough to withstand a fair amount of
+discouragement.
+
+So he discoursed to Pixie on the subject of pictures, of which she knew
+nothing; and she switched the conversation round to music, of which he
+knew less; and she cast furtive glances of longing towards the other
+couple, who were laughing and chattering together with every appearance
+of enjoyment, and he kept his eyes rigorously averted, while his chin
+drooped ever lower and lower in growing depression.  Later on the whole
+party played several rather foolish games, of which Pixie had never
+heard before, and in which she consequently did not shine, which was
+still another depressing circumstance to add to the list.
+
+When Esmeralda escorted her sister upstairs to bed she said blightingly,
+"You were very dull to-night, Pixie.  Were you shy, by any chance?
+_Please_ don't be shy; it's such poor form!" which was not the most
+soothing night-cap in the world for a young woman who had privately made
+up her mind to take society by storm.  Not since the first night in the
+dormitory at Holly House had Pixie felt so lone and lorn as she did when
+the door was shut, and she was left alone in the big, luxurious bedroom.
+She stood before a swing mirror, gazing at her own reflection,
+contrasting it with those of Esmeralda and Honor, and reflecting on her
+sister's parting words.
+
+"This," said she to herself, with melancholy resignation--"this is the
+sort of discipline that is good for the young!  At this rate I'll grow
+so chastened that they won't recognise me when I go home."  For a whole,
+minute she stood mute and motionless, pondering over the prospect; then
+the light danced back into her eyes, she shrugged her shoulders, and
+composedly began her undressing.
+
+The next day broke bright and warm, and after a leisurely breakfast the
+four visitors strolled about for an hour, looking at the dogs and horses
+and playing with the two small boys, who were making all the mischief
+they could on the cedar lawn, while their French nurse looked on with
+sympathetic enjoyment.
+
+Marie was quite a character in the household, and was admitted to a
+degree of intimacy rarely accorded to an English domestic.  She was that
+somewhat unusual combination, a Parisian Protestant, but in other
+respects remained one of the most typically French creatures who was
+ever born.  Meet her in any quarter of the world, in any nation, in any
+garb, and for no fraction of a moment could the beholder doubt her
+nationality.  She was French in appearance, in expression, in movement,
+in thought, in character, and in deed; lovable, intelligent, vivacious,
+easily irritated, but still more easily pleased, sharp of tongue, tender
+of heart, and full to overflowing with humour.  In appearance Marie was
+small and slight, with a sallow complexion which was the bane of her
+life, black hair and beautiful white teeth.  No one could call her
+handsome, but she had certainly an attraction of her own.
+
+This morning Pixie arrived upon the scene in time to overhear a typical
+conversation between the nurse and her two charges.  Geoff, the elder of
+the two brothers, a handsome, imperious youngster, having overheard a
+chance remark as to his own likeness to his mother, was engaged in a
+rigorous cross-questioning of Marie, on the subject.
+
+"Marie, am I beautiful?"
+
+"Leetle boys are not beautiful.  It is enough when they are good."
+
+"My mother is beautiful.  Mr Carr says I am like my mother."
+
+"Ugly people can be like beautiful people.  How can a dirty little boy
+be like a _belle grande dame_?  Regard thy hands!  Four times already
+have they been scrubbed."
+
+"My hands can be clean when I like.  I was talking of if I was
+beautiful."
+
+"Silence, miserable one!  The appearance is of no account," pronounced
+Marie boldly.  "To be good is better than beauty."
+
+Geoffrey drew his brows together in a frown.  He was displeased, and
+when he was displeased he made himself felt.
+
+"I should fink, Marie," he said deliberately, "that you must be the
+goodest person in all the world."
+
+The inference was plain, so plain that sensitive little Jack coloured up
+to the roots of his hair.  Jack was the sweetest and most lovable of
+children--a flaxen-haired cherub, whose winning face and gentle ways
+made him universally beloved.  Among the children of the second
+generation he stood out pre-eminently, and every one of his aunts and
+uncles enshrined him in a special niche of affection.  Pixie had known
+many searchings of heart because of her own partiality, but was fain to
+console herself by the thought that Jack was even more like the beloved
+Bridgie than Bridgie's own sturdy, commonplace son.
+
+As for Jack, he loved everybody, Marie among the number, and, feeling
+her depreciated, rushed stutteringly to the rescue.
+
+"Oh, Geoff!" he cried eagerly.  "You souldn't!  You souldn't, Geoff!  I
+know somefing that's uglier than Marie--"
+
+Geoff's scowl deepened.  He might insinuate, but a barefaced putting
+into words outraged his feelings.  His eyes sent out flashes of
+lightning at the innocent little blunderer, but Marie's eyes shone; her
+face was one beam of tender amusement.
+
+"What then, _cherie_?  Tell thy Marie!"
+
+"M-monkeys!" lisped Jack.
+
+The roar of derision which greeted this consolatory statement brought
+the startled tears into Jack's eyes, but Marie's arms wrapped round him,
+and her voice cooed in his ear.
+
+"Little pigeon! little cabbage!  Weep not, my darling!  Marie does not
+laugh.  Marie understands.  It is true!  The monkeys are more ugly than
+I."
+
+Pixie turned, to find Esmeralda standing beside her, her brows frowning,
+while her lips smiled.  She put her hand through her sister's arm and
+drew her away.
+
+"Leave them alone; Marie manages them best.  Poor, weeny Jack!  He meant
+so well!"  She drew a long sigh.  "Those two boys are just a newer
+edition of their parents.  Little Jack is Geoffrey over again--just the
+same kind, patient, sensitive disposition; and Geoff is me.  When he is
+in one of his moods it's like looking at myself in a mental glass.  I'm
+furious with him for showing me how hateful I can be, and at the same
+time I understand what he is feeling so well that my heart nearly breaks
+with sympathy.  It's terrible to feel that one is showing a bad example
+to one's own child, when one cares so much that at any moment one would
+be willingly flayed alive to do him good!"
+
+"Improve your example, me dear--wouldn't that be simpler!" cried Pixie,
+with an air of breezy common sense which was in startling contrast to
+the other's tragic fervour.
+
+There was a time for everything, Pixie reflected, and it did _not_ seem
+a judicious moment for a hostess to indulge in heroics, what time the
+members of her house-party were advancing to meet her with faces
+wreathed in expectancy.  They made a goodly picture in the spring
+sunshine--the little trim girl and the two tall men attired in the easy
+country kit which is so becoming to the Anglo-Saxon type.  The young
+hostess looked at them and gave a start of recollection.
+
+"Oh, of course!  I was forgetting. ...  We have been arranging a picnic.
+Geoff has ordered the big car for eleven.  He is to drive us a
+twenty-mile spin to the beginning of Frame Woods.  The chauffeur will go
+on by train and meet us there, to take the car round by the high-road
+and meet us a few miles farther on with the hampers.  The woods are
+carpeted with primroses just now, so we shall enjoy the walk, and it
+will give us an appetite for lunch."
+
+Pixie gave a little prance of jubilation.
+
+"Lovely!  Lovely!  I adore picnics!  We'll gather, sticks to boil a
+kettle, to make tea, and boil eggs, like we used to do at home when any
+one had a birthday.  And the sticks always fell in, and the water got
+smoked!"
+
+Honor and the two men had joined the sisters by this time, and stood
+looking on with amusement.
+
+"Miss O'Shaughnessy seems to appreciate smoked tea," said Stanor, and
+Pixie sturdily defended her position.
+
+"I don't; it's hateful!  But you can have _nice_ tea every day, of your
+life, and the game _is_ worth the candle!  You can always pour it away
+and drink milk, and you've had all the fun--gathering the wood, and
+stoking, and looking at the smoke, and the blaze, and hearing the
+crackle, and smelling the dear, _woody_ smell--"
+
+"And blacking your hands, and spoiling your temper, and waiting for--how
+many hours does it take for a watched kettle to boil?--and in the end
+throwing away the result!  You're easily pleased, Miss O'Shaughnessy!"
+
+"I _am_, praise be!" assented Pixie, with a fervour which brought four
+pairs of eyes upon her with a mingling of interest and admiration.
+
+So far as features were concerned, it was a plain little face on which
+they gazed; yet no one could have called it plain at that moment, for,
+it was irradiated by that rarest of all beauties, an expression of
+radiant contentment.  In comparison with that face those of the
+beholders appeared tired and discouraged, old before their time, by
+reason of drooping lips, puckered brows, and wrinkled foreheads; and it
+was evident that they themselves were aware of the fact, and stood, as
+it were, as amateurs before a master.  Robert Carr poked forward his
+chin, and stared at her between narrowed eyes.  Handsome Stanor smiled
+approval, Honor slipped a little hand through her arm, and Esmeralda
+sighed and frowned, and said with a shrug--
+
+"Oh, we've lived past that, Pixie!  Nowadays we take thermos bottles,
+and luncheon baskets, and hot-water dishes, and dine just as--
+uninterestingly as we do at home!  English people wouldn't thank you for
+a scramble.  You must wait until you go back to Knock to Jack and
+Sylvia, and even there the infection is creeping.  Jack is developing
+quite a taste for luxury."
+
+"I like it myself.  Dear Mrs Hilliard, please let us have luxuries
+to-day!"  Stanor pleaded; and Joan turned back to the house to
+superintend arrangements, while the four young people sauntered slowly
+about the grounds.  Honor's hand still rested on Pixie's arm, and her
+voice had a wistful tone as she said--
+
+"I'd like to fix a picnic _your_ way some time, Pat-ricia!  It would be
+a heap more fun.  It must be fine to be a large family and make believe
+together.  It's a problem for an only child to make mischief all by
+itself. ...  Did you have real good times in that old castle with the
+funny name?"
+
+"We did!" affirmed Pixie eloquently.  "There were so many of us, and so
+little to go round, that we were kept busy contriving and scheming the
+whole time, and, when _that_ failed, falling back on imagination to fill
+in the gaps.  It's more comfortable to be rich, but it's not half so
+exciting.  When you have very few things, and wait an age for them, it's
+thrilling beyond words when they _do_ arrive.  When Bridgie re-covered
+the cushions in the drawing-room we all came to call in a string, and
+sat about on chairs, discussing the weather and studying the colour
+effects from different angles.  Then we turned on the light and
+pretended to be a party.  I suppose Esmeralda never _notices_ a
+cushion!"
+
+Pixie sighed, and Honor stared, and Robert Carr looked from one to the
+other, his thin lips twitching in sarcastic fashion.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER EIGHT.
+
+A LONG, LONG LETTER.
+
+From Pixie O'Shaughnessy to Bridgie Victor:
+
+"Not a moment have I had to write to you, Honey, since the first wee
+note, and I've been here a whole three days.  It's the most distracting
+thing in the world when you've nothing to do, and takes up more time
+than you'd believe.  I think of you all in the morning in the dear
+little house, every one bustling round, and only longing for more hands
+and legs to get along the quicker, while here we sit, the six of us,
+dawdling over breakfast, with not a thing to think of but how to waste
+the time until we can decently begin to eat again!  It isn't energetic,
+and it isn't useful, and it isn't wise, or noble, or improving, or
+anything of the kind, but I won't disguise from you, my dear, that, by
+way of a change, it's exceedingly agreeable to the feelings.
+
+"In Esmeralda's language, there is no one here at present, which means
+that there are three other visitors besides my important self, and, what
+is more, my dear, there's a full-fledged romance being acted under my
+very eyes.  Here's luck!  Aren't things kind to happen so conveniently
+for me?
+
+  "_Heroine_.  Honor Ward, aged twenty-four.  Orphan.  Proprietress of
+  Piquant Pickles Factory, Cheeving, Massachusetts, USA.  Honor, who is
+  of fair and pleasing exterior, is spending a year in Europe visiting
+  various friends and connections.  Honor is sensitive as to her
+  enormous fortune, and suspects:--
+
+  "_Robert Carr, Hero in Chief_, of being attracted thereby.  Robert
+  Carr is a barrister engaged in climbing the ladder.  He loves Honor,
+  but resents her attitude, and talks assiduously to:--
+
+  "_Patricia O'Shaughnessy_, youngest scion of the house.  Patricia is
+  plain, but fascinating, and of noble disposition.  She is anxious to
+  reconcile the lovers.  The more so as she herself prefers the
+  companionship of:--
+
+  "_Stanor Vaughan, Secondary Hero_, a beauteous youth of fair estate.
+  Stanor being ardently in love with himself, does not return her
+  passion.  He treats her with sisterly affection.  Patricia hides her
+  chagrin beneath a mask of gaiety.
+
+"How's that for a start, Honey?  Pretty thrilling, eh?  Don't be anxious
+about the mask!  It's so life-like that it deceives even myself into
+believing that it's the genuine article, but when dramatic happenings
+are around, it isn't Pixie O'Shaughnessy who will stand aside and take
+no part!
+
+"On Wednesday we went for a picnic.  It was meant to be a picnic _de
+luxe_, but fate was kind to us, and it turned out very alfresco indeed.
+We started in the big car, Geoffrey driving, and all sorts of good
+things piled up in hampers, and at an appointed place the chauffeur met
+us and took possession, while we walked on through the woods.  Such
+woods, Bridgie; all sweet, and dim, and green, the trunks of the great
+old beeches standing up straight and tall like the pillars of a great
+cathedral, and sweet, innocent little primroses peeping up through the
+moss, and last year's leaves crackling under foot.  Those primroses went
+straight to my head; I felt quite fey.
+
+"Strictly, between me and your sisterly ear, I was _very amusing
+indeed_, and they all appreciated me very much!  And we laughed and
+talked, and finally began to sing.
+
+"`You have a quite too beautiful voice, Miss O'Shaughnessy.  Won't you
+sing to us in the drawing-room to-night?'
+
+"`How sweet of you!  Really, I shall be _too_ charmed!'  (This is the
+orthodox fashionable manner of speaking.  Let us be fashionable or die!)
+
+"We sang glees.  Esmeralda and I took contralto; there was practically
+no treble, for Honor's squeak was drowned fathoms deep; Geoffrey and Mr
+Carr droned bass, and Stanor Vaughan took tenor, rather out of tune it's
+true, but no man with that profile could be expected to condescend to
+_bass_!  We sang `Come and _see_ the daylight dawning, on the meadow far
+away,' and Mr Carr said he must really make a point of going some day,
+and we've planned an early walk for next week, if any one can wake up in
+time.  We roared `All among the barley,' until the primroses looked
+quite abashed, and turned into `Good-night, good-night beloved,' to
+soothe them down again, and we grew so intimate and festive, and they
+all said, `What next, Miss O'Shaughnessy, what next?'  Really, my dear,
+I was a _succes fou_.
+
+"But more is yet to come.  It was so lovely and we were enjoying
+ourselves so much, that we dallied about, and took extra little detours,
+so that it was nearly two o'clock when we arrived at the appointed spot,
+and imagine, my dear, our thwarted hunger and thirst, when not a vestige
+of a car could we behold!  It was no use _waiting_, because if all had
+gone right it should have been waiting for us for an hour at least.  So
+we held a council of war at the side of the road.
+
+  "_Esmeralda_.  `I shall give Dawson notice _At Once_!  He has made
+  some stupid mistake, and gone to the wrong place.  I've no patience
+  with blunderers.'  (She hasn't.)
+
+  "_Geoffrey_.  `Something may have gone wrong with the car.  Don't
+  blame the poor fellow till you are sure he deserves it.'
+
+  "_Stanor_.  `I don't care one rap about Dawson.  I want my lunch!
+  _With_ the luxuries!  What price expectation _now_, Miss
+  O'Shaughnessy?'
+
+  "_Honor_.  `I'm sorry to be disagreeable, but I've a blister on my
+  heel.  If it's a case of walking back, I must bid you all a fond adieu
+  and take to a forest life.'
+
+  "_Robert Carr_.  `What can you expect if you start out on a country
+  walk in ball-room slippers?'
+
+"Honor said: `They aren't, and, anyway, I don't expect sympathy from
+_you_,' and _I_ said: `Isn't there an opening into the road a little
+nearer the village where the car may be waiting all the time?'
+
+"`Mrs Dick,' quoted Geoffrey,--`your common sense is invaluable!' and
+off he started in advance while we all trailed in the rear, along the
+dusty high-road this time, and not by any means in a singing mood.
+Esmeralda stalked, and Honor limped.  She hadn't done it a bit before,
+so it came on rather suddenly, and Stanor offered her his arm, and she
+hung upon it, and Mr Carr talked politics to me, and I tried to quote
+Dick's remarks and appear intelligent, but it didn't come off.
+
+"It was a mile, and more.  It seemed like three, and when we arrived at
+the opening the car was not there.  We sat down against the dusty
+hedgerow and gave way to despair.  Here we were stranded five weary
+miles from our base, i.e. the hampers, and what were we going to do?
+Every one had a different suggestion, but the object of them all was the
+same--_get something to eat_.  It's humiliating how greedy people become
+when they are defrauded of a meal!  Dawson and the car were forgotten,
+everything was forgotten, and when I said that doctors were agreed that
+we ate too much, and an occasional starve was the most healthy thing
+that could happen, they looked coldly on me, and Stanor said doctors
+might keep their theories, but give him _foie gras_!  Finally we agreed
+to be scouts and go forth on a foraging expedition through the tiny
+village, seeking what we might devour.  Geoffrey was the scout-master,
+and we were to meet him at the second lamp-post and report.
+
+"There were half a dozen cottages, one shop, and a yard where they sold
+coal and fresh eggs.  So that meant a cottage each, and the stores
+thrown in.  Our orders were to knock on each door and stand close so as
+to have a good view of the interior when it was opened.  If it was a
+dirty interior we were to dissemble, and ask the way; if it was clean,
+we were to say, `Oh, if you please, we are stranded motorists, and do
+you supply plain teas?'  In case of _two_ being clean, the choice was to
+be left with the scout-master, who would decide between them with tact
+and discretion.
+
+"Bridgie, it _was_ sport!  They were _all_ clean, and they _all_
+supplied plain teas, but the astounding part was that no one could
+supply milk!  (Esmeralda says she has never yet raided an English
+cottage where they _could_.)  And they all offered the same bill of
+fare--tea with tinned milk, eggs, and spring onions!  We chose the
+biggest and airiest cottage, ordered eggs, looked haughtily at onions,
+adjourned to the village store and tried to discover some accessories
+among the rope, firewood, and linoleum.  There was tinned salmon, but
+Esmeralda said she objected to us dying on her hands, and loaf sugar,
+and treacle, and bull's-eyes in a glass bottle, and gingerbread biscuits
+(but the snap had departed, and they were so soft that you could have
+rolled them in balls), and some _very_ strong-looking cheese, and rows
+of dried herrings packed in a box.
+
+"It was Hobson's choice, so we bought a herring apiece, and insisted on
+having each one wrapped up in paper, and carrying it across the road in
+our own separate hands, and _I_ bought a pound of bull's-eyes.  They are
+such encouraging things on a long walk!
+
+"It was a _delicious_ tea.  The milk was rather greasy and hard to mix,
+but if you didn't think about it, it tasted almost as good as real, the
+eggs were fresh, and the herrings so good that Stanor ran across the
+road for more, and we made time with bread and butter until they were
+cooked.  And we gave not a thought to the motor; it was only when the
+sixth plate of bread and butter had been eaten to a crumb that we
+remembered the miles between us and the nearest station.  Five or six it
+was, nothing to trouble ordinary people, even if they would have
+preferred a comfortable car, but there was Honor!  She had slipped off
+her shoe under the table, and when she tried to put it on again it hurt
+so badly that she could hardly hobble across the room, and there was not
+a vehicle within miles.
+
+"We all fussed and wondered what could be done, except Mr Carr, who
+strolled calmly out of the house without a word, lighting a cigarette as
+he went, and after that Honor's foot got so suddenly worse that the
+tears came to her eyes.  Five minutes later when we were still fussing
+and settling nothing, back he came, and in his hands, what do you
+think?--you'd never guess--a pair of men's carpet slippers!  I remember
+in a dim, sub-conscious fashion having seen them hanging up in drab and
+crimson bunches from the ceiling of the shop, but it had never occurred
+to me that they were to _wear_!"
+
+"`You can walk in these!' said Mr Carr coolly, and without waiting to
+hear Honor's reply, he went down on his knees, and began unbuttoning her
+shoe.  She has the daintiest mite of a foot you ever saw--it looked like
+a doll's in his big, strong hand--but she wasn't a bit grateful.  There
+was a look on her face which sent all the others crowding to the door,
+but she glared at me to stay, and, being curious, I obeyed.
+
+"`Mr Carr,' says she,--`this is too much!  It is usual in my country
+for a man to ask a girl what she wants, before he takes it upon himself
+to dictate!'
+
+"He went on unfastening the shoe.
+
+"Occasionally one meets people who don't know what they _do_ want!
+
+"`Well, I reckon I _do_.  And it don't happen to be carpet slippers.
+I'd look a guy.  What are you taking off that shoe for anyway?  That
+foot's all right!'
+
+"`It wouldn't be right long.  One flat shoe and one French heel make a
+poor pair.  You are going to wear both.'
+
+"`They're miles too large.  They'd fall off on the road.'
+
+"`Oh, no they won't.  I'll take care of that,' he said coolly, and took
+from his pocket two strong black bootlaces which he proceeded to
+criss-cross over the instep and round the ankles.  She sat quite still
+watching him, her eyes very bright, her hands twisted together on her
+lap.  When he had finished she put out her feet and stared at them--they
+_did_ look boats!--then she looked down at him.  He was still kneeling,
+and there was not a sound to be heard in that kitchen but the tick of
+the old clock and the beat, beat, beat of Pixie O'Shaughnessy's heart.
+
+"`Don't you care,' said she softly, `a mite _how_--I--look?'
+
+"`Not a mite,' says he coolly.  `I care how you _feel_!'
+
+"There was a look in his eyes which was not carpet slippers, far from
+it, and Honor leaped up and swept to the door with what was intended to
+be a haughty `sweep,' but the slippers pad-padded at each step in a sort
+of shuffle, which was the unhaughtiest thing you could possibly imagine.
+Then Mr Carr gathered up the two tiny brown shoes and dusted them
+carefully with his handkerchief, and slipped one into each pocket of his
+Norfolk coat.  Honor never bothered about her shoes: I suppose you don't
+when you own factories, but Mr Carr walked all the way with his hands
+in his pockets as if he had got something there that he liked to hold.
+
+"The children of the village followed us as we went, and called out,
+`Hi, look at her feet!  Hi, Miss, is there room for me in them
+slippers?' as of course they would, bless them!  And I will say for her
+she took it smiling.
+
+"Two miles along the road the car met us, poor Dawson apoplectic with
+distress and confusion.  The engine had gone wrong, and he had had a
+terrible time getting it put right, and was distracted because he could
+find no way of sending on the hampers.  We tumbled in and whirled home
+in peace and safety, but some of us were glad it had not come before.
+
+"Don't you wonder how I've accomplished this mammoth letter?  There are
+so many times a day in this house when one has to dress in something
+different, to do the next thing on the programme, and experience has
+proved that I change in about a quarter the time taken by the others, so
+down I sit and fill up the wait by scribbling a page or two more, and I
+hope, my dear, the result will amuse you.
+
+"I wear my best clothes all day long, eat indigestible food, go to bed
+late, get up later, and have Esmeralda's maid to do my hair.  You'd
+think it would need an effort to change into a fine lady all at once,
+but it doesn't; you just slip in, and feel like a sleek, stroked cat.
+My dear, I was born to be a Society Belle!
+
+"Pixie."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER NINE.
+
+A RIFT.
+
+"Let me break it to you tenderly," said Mrs Hilliard to her guests at
+breakfast on the morning after the picnic, "that on Thursday there is a
+bazaar, and that it's no use any of you making plans for that day or the
+morning before.  The real reason why I invited you all just at this
+particular time is that you might assist, and be bright and pleasant and
+make my stall a success."
+
+She smiled beguilingly as she spoke, and no one could be more beguiling
+than Joan when it suited her own purpose.  But her blandishments failed
+to propitiate her hearers, who one and all laid down knives and forks
+and fell back in their seats in attitudes expressive of dismay.
+
+"A bazaar.  _Assist_?  What bazaar?  Where?  What for?  This is too
+sudden!  Why were we not warned?"
+
+Joan twinkled mischievously.
+
+"I was afraid you would run away.  People are so surly about bazaars.
+It's in the village; for a parish nurse.  She's new, and needs a cottage
+and furniture, and clothes and salary, and the money has to be found.  I
+wanted Geoffrey to give it right out, it's so much simpler, but he
+wouldn't.  He thought it was right that other people should help."
+
+Geoffrey Hilliard said nothing.  It was true that he thought it a wrong
+attitude for a whole parish to depend upon the gifts of one rich man,
+but an even stronger reason had been his desire to induce his wife to
+take some active interest in her poorer neighbours and to occupy herself
+on their behalf.  When Joan had unwillingly consented to take the
+principal stall at the bazaar, he had complacently expected a succession
+of committee meetings and sewing-bees, which would make a wholesome
+interest in a life spent too entirely in self-gratification; but the
+weeks had passed by, and the bazaar was at hand, and so far he had
+observed no symptoms of work on its behalf.
+
+He sat silently, waiting to glean information through the questioning of
+his guests.
+
+"I've taken part in bazaars before now.  I'm an expert at bazaars.
+Bridgie has had part of a stall several times for things for the
+regiment; but _where is your work_?" demanded Pixie sternly.  "When you
+take part in a bazaar it means every room crowded out with cushions and
+tidies, and mats and pincushions, and sitting up at nights, finishing
+off and sewing on prices, and days of packing up at the end, to say
+nothing of circulars and invitations, and your own aprons and caps.  I
+haven't noticed a bit of fuss.  How _can_ you be going to have a bazaar
+without any fuss?"
+
+She looked so accusingly at her sister as she spoke that the others
+laughed, but there was a hint of uneasiness in the manner in which Joan
+glanced at her husband before replying.
+
+"There isn't any.  Why should there be?  Fancy work isn't my _forte_,
+and it would bore me to sobs _living_ bazaar for months ahead.  I've
+sent money to order ready-mades, and there are a pile of packing-cases
+stored away upstairs which will provide more than we want.  They _ought_
+to do, considering the money I've spent!  I expect the things will be
+all right."
+
+"Haven't you _looked_?" cried Pixie blankly, while Geoffrey flushed,
+shrugged his shoulders, and muttered a sarcastic "Charity made easy!"
+which brought an answering flash into his wife's eyes.
+
+"Is there anything particularly estimable in upsetting a whole house and
+wasting time in manufacturing fal-lals which nobody needs?  I fail to
+see it," she retorted sharply, and Geoffrey shrugged again, his face
+grim and displeased.
+
+It was not a pleasant moment for the listeners, and one and all were
+grateful to Stanor Vaughan for the easy volubility, with which he dashed
+to the rescue.
+
+"I'll open the cases for you, Mrs Hilliard.  I'm a nailer at opening
+cases; ought to have been a furniture remover by profession.  Give me
+wood and nails, and a litter of straw and sawdust, and I'm in my
+element.  Better take 'em down to the hall and unpack them there, I
+suppose?  Safest plan with breakables.  Jolly good crockery you get from
+abroad!  I was at winter sports with my sister, and she fell in love
+with a green pottery cruse business, half a franc, and as big as your
+head.  I argued with her for an hour, but it was no good, buy it she
+would, and cuddled it in her arms the whole way home!  If you have any
+green cruses, Mrs Hilliard, I'll buy a dozen!"
+
+Esmeralda thanked him, and proceeded to explain her arrangements in a
+manner elaborately composed.  It appeared that she had displayed
+considerable ingenuity in the way of saving herself trouble.
+
+"I sent instructions to each place that every article was to be marked
+in plain figures.  We shall just have to translate them into English
+money and add on a little more.  It's unnecessary to re-mark everything
+afresh.  I've engaged a joiner to be at the hall ready to fix up any
+boards or shelves which we may need, and of course he'll unpack.
+There's not the slightest reason for any one else to break his nails;
+there will be enough work for us on the day."
+
+"Are we to be dressed up in fancy character?  It's all so sudden that
+I'd like to know the worst at once," sighed Honor plaintively.  "I've
+been a Swiss maiden, and I've been a Dolly Varden, and I've been the Old
+Woman that lived in a Shoe, so I guess I can bear another turn of the
+screw.  But I look real sweet in my new blue gown."
+
+"Wear it, then, wear it.  It's ridiculous dressing up in daylight in a
+village hall.  Let every one wear what suits them best."
+
+"Wait till you see my waistcoat!" cried Stanor, and they rose from the
+table laughing, and breakfast was at an end.
+
+Pixie made straight for the nursery.  She was jarred and troubled by the
+scene which had just taken place, all the more so as it was by no means
+the first occasion during her short visit when Geoffrey and Joan had
+unmistakably "jarred."
+
+In the old days at Knock Castle Esmeralda's tantrums had been accepted
+as part of the daily life, but six years spent in the sunshine of
+Bridgie's home made a difference between husband and wife seem something
+abnormal and shocking.  Imagine Dick sneering at Bridgie!  Imagine
+Bridgie snapping back and relapsing into haughty indifference!  The
+thing was preposterous, unthinkable!  Could that be the reason of
+Esmeralda's unrest, that she and her husband had outgrown their love?
+Pixie felt it equally impossible at that moment to sit quietly alone, or
+to talk naturally to her fellow-guests, but experience had proved that
+the most absolutely certain method of getting out of herself was to
+court the society of children.  So she shut herself in the nursery with
+the two small boys, who took eery advantage of the unexpected treat
+without troubling their heads as to how it had come about.
+
+Meantime the three guests started off on the usual morning peregrination
+of the grounds, and Joan followed her husband to his study, found him
+staring aimlessly out of the window, and accosted him in cold and biting
+tones.
+
+"Geoffrey, I wish to speak to you.  You are entitled to your own
+opinions, but the next time that you find them in opposition to mine I
+should be obliged if you would reserve your remarks until we are alone.
+If you have no consideration for me, you might at least consider your
+guests; it cannot be agreeable for them to overhear our differences."
+
+Geoffrey did not move.  He stood with his hands thrust deep into his
+pockets, his head drooping forward on his breast, an air of weariness
+and depression in every line of his figure.  For a minute there was
+silence, then he spoke, slowly, and with frequent breaks, as though
+considering each word as it came--
+
+"That is true.--I was to blame.--I should have waited, as you say.--It
+shall not occur again, Joan.  I apologise."
+
+Esmeralda looked at him.  The fire died from her eyes, her lips
+trembled.  Quick to anger, she was equally quick to penitence, and a
+soft word could melt her hardest mood.  She made a very lovely picture
+at that moment, but her husband's back was still turned.  He kept his
+head rigorously turned aside as he crossed to his desk and seated
+himself on his swivel chair.
+
+"I have ordered the car for eleven, as you wished."
+
+"Thank you."
+
+Joan knew herself to be dismissed, but she had no intention of obeying.
+For her impetuous nature half-measures did not exist, and a peace that
+was not peace with honour seemed unworthy the name.  She leaned over her
+husband's desk, facing him with earnest eyes.
+
+"Geoffrey!  Why were you so cross?  It was unreasonable.  I shall do
+quite well at my stall.  People are sick to death of cushions and
+cosies, but they will snap at my beautiful things from abroad, which
+they don't often have a chance of buying."
+
+"I am sure of it."
+
+"Then why--why--?  What on earth put you into such a bait?"
+
+Geoffrey put down his pen and drew a long sigh.  It was easy to see that
+he dreaded a discussion, and was most unwillingly drawn into its toils.
+
+"Since you ask me, Joan, I was disappointed that you had taken so little
+personal trouble over the affair.  I could have given the money easily
+enough; when I refused I was thinking more of you than of any one else.
+I hoped this bazaar might be the means of taking you out of yourself, of
+bringing you in contact with people whose lives are not altogether given
+up to self-indulgence.  Your one idea seems to have been to avoid such a
+course."
+
+"You would have liked me to have sewing meetings here as Mrs Ewart has
+at the vicarage: plain sewing from two to four, and then tea and buns.
+You would have liked to see me sitting in the evening embroidering wild
+roses on tray cloths, and binding shaving-cases with blue ribbon?"
+
+"I would," said Geoffrey sturdily.  He did not smile, as he had been
+expected to do, but sat grim and grave, refusing to be cajoled.
+
+Esmeralda's anger mounted once more.
+
+"Then I call it stupid and bigoted, and I absolutely disagree.  If I'm
+to waste my time, I'll waste it in my own way, not in perpetrating
+atrocities to disfigure another home.  And I hate village sewing
+meetings and the dull, ugly frumps who go to them."
+
+Mr Hilliard took up his pen, squared his elbows, and quietly began to
+write.
+
+"Geoffrey, can't you answer when I speak to you!  I'm not a child to be
+cowed and snubbed!  I--I hate you when you get into this superior mood!"
+
+Geoffrey lifted his face--was it the strong east light which made it
+suddenly appear so lined and worn?  There was no anger in his face, only
+a very pitiful sadness.
+
+"I am afraid there are many moods in which you `hate' me, Esmeralda."
+
+The look on his face, the sound of the old pet name were too much for
+the warm Irish heart.  In a moment his wife was on her knees beside him,
+holding his hands, pressing them to her lips, stroking them with
+caressing fingers.
+
+"Geoff, Geoff, it isn't true; you know it isn't.  I always love you, I
+always did.  You know it is true.  I was ready to marry you when I
+thought you hadn't a penny.  I wanted nothing but yourself."
+
+"I never forget it," said Geoffrey deeply; "I never can.  Sometimes--
+sometimes I wish it had been true, it might have been better for us
+both.  `All that riches can buy' has not made a happy woman of you,
+Esmeralda."  He stroked back the hair from her broad, low brow, looking
+with troubled eyes at the fine lines which already marked its surface.
+"I can give my wife many treasures, but apparently not the thing she
+needs most of all--the happiness which Dick Victor manages to provide
+for Bridgie on a few hundreds a year!"
+
+"Bridgie is Bridgie, and I'm myself; we were born different.  It's not
+fair to compare us, and the advantages are not all on one side.  If she
+has not had my opportunities, she has escaped the temptations; she might
+have grown selfish too.  Sometimes I hate money, Geoffrey; it's a
+millstone round one's neck."
+
+"No!"  Geoffrey squared his shoulders.  "It's a lever.  I am glad to be
+rich; my father worked hard for his money--it was honourably gained, and
+I'm proud to inherit it.  It is a responsibility, a heavy one, if you
+like, but one is bound to have responsibilities in life, and it's a fine
+thing to have one which holds such possibilities.  I mean to bring up
+the boys to take that view.  But--" he paused heavily--"I'd give it up
+to-morrow if it could purchase peace and tranquillity, a rest from this
+everlasting strain!"
+
+Something tightened over Joan's heart; a chill as of fear passed through
+her blood.  Geoffrey spoke quietly, so sanely, with an unmistakable air
+of knowing his own mind.  And his manner was so cool, so detached, not
+one lover-like word or action had he vouchsafed in answer to her own.  A
+chill passed through Joan's veins, the chill of dismay which presages
+disaster.  At that moment she divined the certainty of what she had
+never before even dimly imagined--the waning of her husband's love.
+Like too many beautiful young wives, she had taken for granted that her
+place in her husband's heart was established for life, independent of
+any effort to retain it.  She had not realised that love is a treasure
+which must needs be guarded with jealous care, that the delicate cord
+may be strained so thin that a moment may come when it reaches
+breaking-point.  That moment had not come yet; surely, surely, it could
+not have come, but she felt the shadow.
+
+"Don't you love me any more, Geoffrey?" she asked faintly.  "In spite of
+all my faults, do you love me still like you did?"
+
+It was the inevitable ending to a dissension, the inevitable question
+which he had answered a hundred times, and if to-day there was a new
+tone in the voice which spoke it, Geoffrey was not sensitive enough to
+notice.  Few men would mark such differences in a moment of tension.
+
+"I love you, Joan," he answered wearily.  "You are my wife; but you've
+rubbed off the bloom!"
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+Joan got up quietly from her knees and crossed to the door.  The voice
+within declared that Geoffrey would call her back, that he would leap
+after her and clasp her in his arms, as he had done a score of times in
+like circumstances, that he would implore forgiveness for his cruel
+words.  She walked slowly, pausing as she went to put a chair against
+the wall, to alter the position of a vase of flowers.  She reached the
+door and cast a swift glance behind.  Geoffrey had gone back to his
+writing; his pen travelled swiftly across the page; he did not raise his
+head.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TEN.
+
+PIXIE GIVES JOAN A TONIC.
+
+A romp with the children restored Pixie's elastic spirits, and brought a
+revived wish for her friends' society.  She leaned out of the window and
+beheld a game of tennis on in obvious need of a fourth player, waved
+gaily in response to a general beckoning, and tripped downstairs singing
+a glad refrain.  And then, in the corridor outside her boudoir, behold a
+pale and tragic Esmeralda summoning her with a dramatic hand.  Pixie
+flounced, and a quiver of indignation stiffened her small body.  A whole
+hour of a lovely spring morning had already been spent in struggling to
+overcome the depression caused by the scene at breakfast, and here was
+Joan obviously preparing a second edition.  Pixie was no niggard in
+sympathy, but for the moment she had other views.  Two charming young
+men were waiting without in the sunshine, and any ordinary human girl
+prefers the sunshine and masculine society, to a room indoors and an
+hysterical sister.  Therefore, being excessively human, Pixie flounced,
+and looked bored and impatient.  She entered the room and shut the door
+behind her.
+
+"What's the matter _now_?"
+
+The answer was sufficiently unexpected.
+
+"Pixie, if I die will you promise me faithfully to live here and take
+charge of my orphan boys?"
+
+"I will not!" snapped Pixie sharply.  It was just what might have been
+expected for Esmeralda to picture her own tragic death as the result of
+a passing squall.  Quite possibly she had been sitting for the last hour
+picturing the stages of her own decline and the grief of the survivors.
+Strong common sense was the best remedy she could have.  "I hope to have
+my own home to look after.  And they are too spoiled.  I wouldn't
+undertake the charge."
+
+"Somebody," croaked Esmeralda deeply, "somebody must look after my
+boys!"
+
+"Don't you worry about that.  Geoffrey'll marry again.  They always do
+when the children are young."
+
+This was deliberate cruelty, but the strain was severe.  Stanor was
+standing, racket in hand, gazing up at the window.  The sunshine lit up
+his handsome face, his expectant smile.  Pixie gave another flounce and
+turned impatiently to meet the next lament; but Esmeralda was silent,
+her hands were clasped on her knee, and tears--_real_ tears--shone in
+her eyes.  It was a rare thing for Joan to cry; the easy tears which
+rose to her sisters' eyes in response to any emotion, pleasurable or the
+reverse, these were not for her.  Looking back over the history of their
+lives, Pixie could count the number of times when she had seen Joan cry.
+The outside world vanished from her memory in response to that appeal.
+
+"Esmeralda!  _Darling_!  You are not ill?  You are not really
+suffering?"
+
+Joan shook her head.
+
+"Quite strong," she murmured miserably; "too strong.  Only it seems
+impossible to live on in such misery.  It's gone--the mainspring,
+everything!  I can't drag along!  Thank God, Pixie, you are here!  I
+never could bottle up my feelings.  It's Geoffrey--he doesn't love me
+any more.  I'm not imagining it--it's true!  He told me himself."
+
+"What did he say?" demanded Pixie practically.  She displayed no dismay
+at the announcement, being used to her sister's exaggerations, and
+feeling abundantly convinced in her own mind that this was but another
+example.  Geoffrey was cross this morning, but five days' residence
+under his roof had abundantly demonstrated that his love was not dead.
+"Now, what exactly _did_ he say?" she repeated, and Joan faltered out
+the dread words.
+
+There was silence in the room for a long minute.  Then Pixie drew in her
+breath with a sharp intake.  "The _bloom_!" she repeated softly.  "The
+_bloom_!"  The beautiful significance of the term seemed to occupy her
+mind to the exclusion of the personal application.  She had a vision of
+love as the apotheosis of human affection, a wondrous combination of
+kindliness, sympathy, courtesy, patience, unselfishness--all these, _and
+something more_--that mysterious, intangible quality which Geoffrey
+Hilliard had so aptly described.  Given "the bloom," affection became
+idealised, patience a joy, and selfishness ceased to exist, since the
+well-being of another was preferred before one's own; courtesy and
+sympathy followed automatically, as attendant spirits who could not be
+separated.  Affection might exist, did often exist, in churlish,
+unlovely form, giving little happiness either to the giver or the
+recipient Love, the highest, was something infinitely precious, a
+treasure to be guarded with infinite care, lest in the stress of life
+its bloom should be destroyed.
+
+Joan, looking with anxious inquiry in her sister's face, read there an
+earnestness even exceeding her own.
+
+"Oh, _no_!" cried Pixie strongly.  "Not that, not that, Esmeralda.  Not
+the bloom.  It mustn't go; it's too precious.  It means everything.  You
+mustn't _let_ it go!"
+
+"But I told you it _had_ gone.  It's too late."
+
+"No!"  Pixie shook her head.  "I know better.  There's time yet, if
+you'll be warned.  Last night, when you were comforting Jack after his
+tumble, Geoffrey sat watching you as Dick watches Bridgie.  It can't be
+all gone, when he looks like that.  He has loved you, been proud of you,
+been patient with you for--how long is it you have been married?  Seven
+years, and you need a lot of patience, Esmeralda!  I suppose it's come
+to this--that you've used up all the patience he has."
+
+It said volumes for Joan's penitence that she allowed such a statement
+to pass unchallenged, and even assented to it with meekness.
+
+"I suppose that's it.  For the first few years it was all right.  When I
+got angry he only laughed; then he began to get impatient himself, and
+this last year things have been going from bad to worse.  When he spoke
+straight out it was easier; there was a row royal, and a grand `make up'
+at the end, but now he's so cold and calm."  Esmeralda's lip trembled at
+the remembrance of the scene downstairs of the averted figure writing
+stolidly at the desk.  She stared before her in silence for a dismal
+moment, then added sharply: "And what in the world set him off at a
+tangent this morning, of all others?  There have been dozens of times
+when I should have expected him to be furious, and he's been as mild as
+a lamb; and then of a sudden, when I was all innocent and unsuspicious,
+to flare up like that!  There's no sense in it!"
+
+"It's always the way with men.  You can't reckon on them," announced
+Pixie, with the seasoned air of one who has endured three husbands at
+least.  "Dick's the same--an angel of patience till just the moment when
+you've made sure of him, and then in a moment he snaps off your head--my
+head, I mean, never Bridgie's.  There's too much--bloom."  She put her
+little head on one side and pursed her lips in thought, with the
+characteristic Pixie air which carried Joan back to the days of
+childhood.  "Now, isn't it odd, Esmeralda, how people cultivate almost
+every good quality, and leave love to chance?  They practise patience
+and unselfishness, but seem to think love is beyond control.  It comes,
+or--it goes.  _Tant mieux_!  _Tant pis_!  My dear, if I married a
+husband who loved me as Geoffrey loved you, it would be the big work of
+my life to keep him at it, and I'd expect it to _be_ work!  You get
+nothing worth having without trouble, so why should you expect an
+exception for the very _best_ thing?  And the poor man deserves some
+encouragement.  _I'd give it to him_!"
+
+Joan's lips twisted into a sad smile.
+
+"You understand a great deal, Pixie--more than I do, it seems, even
+after seven years!  I never looked at things in that light.  I just
+expected Geoffrey to keep on adoring, whatever I did.  What made you
+think such things?"
+
+"Nature!" said Pixie promptly.  "And, my dear, I'm clever at loving--I
+always was.  It's my only gift, and I _have_ studied it just as other
+people study drawing and music.  What you have to do, Esmeralda, is to
+forget everything and every one else for a while, and comfort Geoffrey.
+Don't make a scene and worry the poor man.  Don't make a grand programme
+of reformation, for that will put him off at the start.  Just begin
+to-night and be sweet to him for a change.  If you feel temper coming
+on, have it out on me!  I'm used to you from a child, and if I get too
+much of it I can always run away and leave you; Geoffrey can't.  It's
+mean to take advantage of a man that's bound."
+
+"If he _wanted_ to go," began Joan haughtily, then subsided into tears
+and helplessness.  "Pixie!  Pixie!  It's so difficult!  What can I do?"
+
+"D'you need _me_ to tell you?  Isn't it the _easiest_ thing in the world
+to make love to your own husband, in your own house?  Talk of
+propinquity!  Always ready, always handy, if you can't manage _that_!
+My dear girl, the game's in your own hands."
+
+"Can a leopard change its spots?"
+
+"We're not talking of leopards; we're talking of women--and they _can_
+bridle their tongues!"
+
+Again Joan was silent.  _Could she_?  A great martyrdom, or heroic
+effort, these she would have faced gladly, counting them a small price
+to pay for her husband's love; but then how to subdue hasty impulses, to
+keep a watch over her tongue--this seemed beyond her strength.  And yet
+the treasure which was threatened was of such inestimable value.  It was
+impossible to contemplate life without it.  Human life is uncertain, and
+though she would not allow herself to dwell upon such a possibility,
+Joan had realised in her heart that a day might dawn when she would have
+to part from husband or son.  Death might come, she might have to say
+farewell to the dear human presence, but never, never had she imagined
+for a moment that she might be compelled to live on, having bidden
+farewell to _love_!  Geoffrey her lover, Geoffrey her husband, Geoffrey
+the father of her boys, was it a fact or a dreadful nightmare that he
+had sat, untouched by her appeal, and confessed that ... that...
+
+Joan winced, unable to bear the repetition, and locked her hands more
+closely on her knee.  Pixie glanced furtively through the window.
+Stanor had turned back to the tennis-ground and the three-handed game
+had been resumed.  She stifled a pang of disappointment and sat quietly
+waiting for further confidences, but presently Joan said quietly--
+
+"Thank you, Pixie.  Now--will you go?  I want to think.  You've been
+very sweet."
+
+"More bracing than sweet, my dear; but it was what you needed!"  Pixie
+rose with an alacrity which the other was, fortunately, too preoccupied
+to notice, dropped a kiss on the lovely bent neck, and walked quickly
+from the room.  Joan had had the relief which her nature demanded of
+giving expression to her feelings; now it was best that she should be
+alone.  Pixie had done her best to help, and now sunshine and Stanor
+were waiting!  In another five minutes she was playing tennis as
+whole-heartedly as though it were her only business in life.
+
+Meanwhile Joan sat alone in her upstairs room, struggling with all the
+force of her ardent, undisciplined nature to brace herself for the
+struggle which lay before her.  Prayer had become of late a mechanical,
+stereotype repetition of phrases; to-day there were no phrases--hardly,
+indeed, any definite words.  In the extreme need of life she took refuge
+in that voiceless cry for help, that child-like opening of the heart
+which is the truest relationship between the soul and God.  She sat with
+closed eyes and lifted face, penitent, receptive, waiting to be blessed.
+For the time being doubts were forgotten, everything seemed straight
+and plain.  Then, being Esmeralda, the wayward, the undisciplined, the
+mood of exultation faded, and depression held her once more.  The
+heavenly help and guidance seemed far-off and unreal.  She was seized
+with impetuous necessity to act at once, to act for herself.  Pixie's
+proposals failed to satisfy her ardent desires.  To wait weeks or months
+for the reward she craved was beyond endurance.  She must contrive
+something big, something soon, something that would demonstrate to
+Geoffrey her anxiety to please him.  She racked her brain to find a way.
+
+Poor, impatient, undisciplined Esmeralda!  How little she dreamed of the
+tragic consequences of that hour!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER ELEVEN.
+
+PIXIE TALKS ON LOVE.
+
+The immediate cause of Geoffrey's displeasure having been in connection
+with the bazaar, it appeared to Joan that it was in that connection also
+that she must make an amend.  He had complained that she had failed in
+interest and personal energy: by a supreme effort, then, she must
+demonstrate how his words had taken root.
+
+It was the eleventh hour; any one but an impulsive Irish woman would
+have realised the futility of organising any fresh feature, and would
+have contented herself with doing well what was already planned, but
+such tame methods were not for the woman who had been Esmeralda
+O'Shaughnessy.  She was accustomed to acting in haste; at home, at
+Knock, the most extensive entertainments had been organised at a few
+hours' notice, and how much easier it would be now with a staff of
+trained servants at her command and a purse full of money to buy the
+necessary accessories, instead of being obliged to manufacture all that
+was required out of ordinary household goods.  Joan heaved a sigh of
+regret for the memory of those gay old days when a sheet and a
+pillow-case had provided a fancy costume which had captivated Geoffrey
+at a glance, then knitted her brows afresh in the effort to think out
+some scheme appropriate to the occasion.
+
+The vicar's wife had lamented a lack of music which would afford
+variation from the prosaic business of buying and selling.  At the time
+Joan had suspected a hint, and had resolutely turned a deaf ear.  She
+hated singing to strangers, she hated singing in a building notably
+deficient in acoustic properties, she had not the faintest intention of
+victimising herself for the sake of a village throng.  But now, with the
+new impetus driving her on, nothing seemed too hard or distasteful.  The
+vicar's wife should have her music--music with such accessories as it
+had never entered her modest head to imagine, music which should be the
+feature _par excellence_ of the bazaar.  Joan's was a quick, inventive
+brain; within half an hour she had mentally arranged her programme, made
+a list of the necessary accessories, and planned how they should be
+procured.
+
+When the little party were again assembled for luncheon she was able to
+state her plans with an air of complete assurance which left them
+breathless with astonishment.  She had decided to provide two short
+concerts, one in the afternoon, one in the evening.  She would sing two
+songs; Pixie should do the same.  They would all join in appropriate
+part songs.  By way of a climax the last number on the programme should
+be illustrated by a _tableau vivant_.  She proposed to write special
+words to a well-known air which, together with the tableau, should
+illustrate the benefits which the bazaar was destined to provide for the
+villagers.  The tableau should represent a scene in a cottage interior
+in which were grouped four figures--a child suffering from an accident,
+a distraught mother, a helpless father, and in the background, bending
+beneficently over the patient, the parish nurse.
+
+Esmeralda looked around for approval, and met the stare of blank and
+doubtful faces.
+
+"Er--a bit lugubrious, isn't it, Mrs Hilliard?" ventured Stanor at
+last, voicing the general impression so strongly that Esmeralda's
+imagination instantly took another leap.
+
+"Certainly not, for I should have a second tableau to follow to show the
+happy convalescence--child sitting up in bed, pale but smiling, nurse
+bringing in bunch of flowers, father and mother, with outstretched
+hands, pouring out thanks."
+
+"That's better!  That's more like it!"
+
+The murmur of approval passed down the table.  Pixie laid her head on
+one side in smiling consideration.  Yes, it would go; arranged with
+Esmeralda's skill and taste the scenes would be pretty and touching,
+especially when seen to the accompaniment of her beautiful voice.  The
+shortness of the time allowed for preparation troubled Pixie no more
+than her sister.  She smiled at Esmeralda and nodded a cheery
+encouragement.
+
+"I'll be the distracted mother, and weep into my apron.  Honor will look
+a duck in a cap.  Who's to be the little victim?"
+
+"Jack, of course.  He'll look too sweet," said Jack's proud mother.
+"Can't you imagine him, sitting up in bed with his curls peeping out
+beneath his bandages--he must have bandages--smiling like a little
+angel!  He'd bring down the house.  The people would love to see him."
+
+Then for the first time Geoffrey spoke.  So far he had listened to the
+conversation in a silence which both his wife and sister-in-law felt to
+be disappointingly unsympathetic.  Now his objections were put into
+words--
+
+"Isn't Jack rather young and--er--sensitive for such a public role?  I
+should have thought that your concert would be complete without
+troubling about a tableau.  In any case, there are plenty of village
+children."
+
+"Not with Jack's face.  He is sensitive, of course, but he's not shy;
+he'd enjoy the excitement.  And we should be there; he could come to no
+harm."
+
+"And the evening performance?  Would you propose that he sat up for that
+also?"
+
+Joan pressed her lips together in the struggle for patience.  Really
+Geoffrey was too bad!  What did he mean?  What did he want?  The whole
+scheme had been planned to give him pleasure, and here he was, silent,
+disapproving, throwing cold water.  The effort at restraint made her
+voice sound unnatural even in her own ears.
+
+"If we had the tableau in the afternoon, it would hardly do to leave it
+out in the evening--the only time when the villagers themselves will be
+able to be present."
+
+Before Geoffrey could reply the heel of Pixie's shoe pressed firmly on
+his foot beneath the table, and a warning glance silenced his words.  A
+moment later, when the discussion of pros and cons waxed loud at the far
+end of the table, she whispered an explanation--
+
+"Don't object, don't argue.  It's to _please you_!  You said she had
+taken no trouble."
+
+Geoffrey Hilliard's glance of comprehension had in it more of weariness
+than elation.  Pixie noting the fact, felt a rising of irritation, and
+mentally dubbed him ungracious and unreasonable, as Esmeralda had done
+before her.  Both failed to appreciate the fact that sudden spasms of
+energy were by no means an innovation in the family history, and what
+the tired man was really longing for was that ordered peace and
+tranquillity which form the English idea of home.  He made no further
+objections, however, and Joan threw herself whole-heartedly into her
+preparations, determined on a success which must win approval as by a
+_tour de force_.
+
+The three days following were far from peaceful, but if the master of
+the house kept aloof from the stir and bustle, his guests threw
+themselves into it with every appearance of enjoyment.  Strains of music
+sounded from the drawing-room and mingled with the tap-tapping of
+hammers from an upper room where realistic scenery was being
+manufactured under Joan's able supervision.  The new system of
+thoroughness demanded, moreover, that the stored-up cases should be
+opened, and the contents unpacked, dusted, and re-priced, a work in
+itself of many hours.
+
+The four guests started thereon with equal vigour, but Honor took an
+early opportunity of slipping away.  She was tired, she had a headache,
+she must finish a book, there were half a dozen stock excuses, each one
+of which seemed to demand an instant adjournment to the garden.  She
+made the announcement in a high, clear drawl and sailed out of the room
+without leaving time for protest.  Whereupon Robert Carr attacked the
+work on hand with feverish zeal, worked like a nigger for five or ten
+minutes by the clock, and finally bolted out of the door, without, in
+his case, going through the form of an excuse.  Then the two workers who
+were left looked out of the window and beheld the truants seated at
+extreme ends of a garden seat, hardly speaking to each other, looking on
+the most stiff and formal of terms.
+
+Stanor laughed at the sight, but Pixie's practical mind could not
+reconcile itself to such contradictory behaviour.
+
+"Where's the sense of it?" she asked.  "Where's the fun?  To play truant
+to sit on a bench and sulk!  Wouldn't it be far more fun, now, to work
+up here with nice cheerful people like yourself and--me?"
+
+But Stanor knew better.
+
+"Not a bit of it," he returned.  "They'd rather quarrel by themselves
+all day long than be happy with outsiders, even such fascinating people
+as ourselves.  It's a symptom of the disease.  Of course, you have
+grasped the fact that they _are_ suffering from a disease?"
+
+"I have.  I can use my eyes.  But _why_?" cried Pixie, rounding on him
+with sudden energy, "_why_, will you tell me, can't they be happy and
+comfortable and get engaged and be done with it?  What's the sense of
+pretending one thing when you mean another, and sulking and quarrelling
+when you might--"
+
+"Quite so," assented Stanor, laughing.  "Odd, isn't it; but they _will_,
+you know.  Never any knowing what they _will_ do when it takes them like
+that.  Besides, in this case there are complications.  Miss Ward has
+pots of money, and poor old Carr has nothing but what he makes.  He'll
+get on all right--a fellow with that chin is bound to get on--but it
+takes time, and meantime it's a bit of an impasse.  A fellow doesn't
+mind his wife having _some_ money--it's a good thing for her as well as
+for himself--but when it comes to a pile like that--well, if he has any
+self-respect, he simply can't do it!"
+
+"If _I_ had a pile, I'd expect my lover to accept it from me as gladly
+as I'd take it from him.  If he didn't, I should feel he didn't love me
+enough."
+
+"You'd be wrong there.  He might love you enough to wish to save you
+from a jolly uncomfortable position.  It's not right that a man should
+be dependent upon his wife.  Puts him in a false position."
+
+"Not if he really loved her.  How could it?  He'd realise then that in a
+life together there would be no `yours' or `mine.'  It would all be
+`_ours_.'"
+
+Stanor lifted his head to look at her, and Pixie's clear eyes met his in
+a full frank gaze which held no shadow of embarrassment.  Here was
+something quite new--a girl who could speak about love to a young man
+without a trace of self-consciousness or flirtation, yet with an
+earnestness which demonstrated a keen personal interest.  Stanor had
+many girl friends with whom he had often discussed the subject, but
+invariably a certain amount of self-consciousness had crept in, which
+had shown itself alternately in cynicism or sentimentality.
+
+Now, to his own amazement, he realised that _he_ was the one to feel
+embarrassment, while Pixie confided her sentiments as placidly as if he
+had been a maiden aunt.  He stared at her as she stood before him, a
+trim, quaint little figure enveloped in a print overall, beneath which
+her feet appeared absurdly small and doll-like, and as he looked his
+heart gave a curious, unexpected leap.  He had felt that leap before,
+and the meaning of it was no mystery to him, though in this particular
+instance it was sufficiently astonishing.
+
+Handsome, accomplished, the presumptive heir to a fortune, Stanor
+Vaughan had been a pet of society for the last half-dozen years, and
+being by nature susceptible to girlish charm had more than once imagined
+himself seriously in love.  There had been, for example, that beautiful
+blonde whose society had turned a summer holiday into a veritable idyll.
+He had been on the verge of proposing to her when his uncle had
+suddenly summoned him home, and--well, somehow the restless misery of
+the first few days had disappeared with surprising rapidity, the vision
+had grown dim, and finally faded from sight.
+
+Again it had been a charming brunette, and this time he had been sure of
+himself, perfectly sure.  He was awaiting an opportunity to speak when
+again a summons had arrived, a pleasant one this time, since it took the
+form of an invitation to accompany his uncle on a prolonged continental
+tour.  There had been no time to think.  He had barely time to pack his
+bag and be off.  And at the end of a month, well!  He had begun to
+hesitate and doubt, and the episode ended like the first.
+
+Curious, when he came to think about it, how the Runkle had in both
+cases played the part of _deus ex machina_.  It was coincidence, of
+course, pure coincidence, for the old fellow had not known the girls
+even by name, but it _was_ odd!  As for his own part in the proceeding,
+both girls had been unusually charming specimens of the modern society
+girl, it was natural enough that he should have been impressed, but if
+it was really the fact that he was falling in love with this Irish
+Pixie, that was another, and a very different matter.
+
+With a darting thought Stanor recalled his impressions on first meeting
+the girl a week before, and his own outspoken surprise at the
+insignificance of the sister of his beautiful hostess.  A plain, odd
+little creature, that had been the involuntary verdict, but almost
+immediately it had been amended.  Plain, but charming; distinctly the
+little thing had charm!  Now, at the expiration of six days it had come
+to this, that his eyes no longer noted the faulty outline, but found a
+continual joy in watching the play of expression, the vivid life and
+interest of the sparkling little face.  This was the real thing at last,
+Stanor told himself: it must be the real thing!  Mingled with all his
+excitement and perturbation, he was conscious of a thrill of
+self-appreciation.  It was not every man of his age who would put beauty
+of character before that of feature.  He threw a deliberate
+_empressement_ into his gaze, and said meaningly--
+
+"Your husband, Miss Pixie, will be a lucky man!"
+
+"He will so," agreed Pixie warmly.  She gave a soft, musical laugh as if
+the thought were a pleasant one to dwell on, but Stanor was sensitive
+enough to realise that his own image played no part in her dreams.  She
+took up her pen and returned to the scribbling of prices on small paper
+labels.  "Russian lace, five shillings a yard.  Russian lacquer
+collar-box.  Don't you hate that shiny red?  Of course, when I talked of
+fortunes I was only putting myself in her place.  I've nothing.  None of
+us have.  When My lover comes, there'll be only--_Me_!"  The words
+sounded modest enough, but there was a complacence in the tilt of the
+head which told another story.  Pixie O'Shaughnessy had no pity to waste
+on the man who should win herself.
+
+Stanor's lip twisted in a self-conscious smile.  The other girls had
+been rich.  He pondered for a moment, and then said suddenly--
+
+"I wonder, Miss Pixie, with your temperament, and--er--under the
+circumstances that you have not been fired with the modern craze to do
+something before now.  Girls nowadays don't seem happy unless they have
+some work--"
+
+"But I _have_, I have!  Did you think I was idle?"  She looked at him
+with reproachful eyes.  "This is a holiday.  I'm sampling luxury for a
+change, and I won't deny it's agreeable, but at home all the year I'm at
+work from morning to night.  I don't know how to get _through_ my work."
+
+So she had a profession then, after all!  Stanor felt an amused
+conviction that whatever the post might be the little thing would fill
+it uncommonly well.  Small and child-like as she appeared, she yet
+carried with her that air of assurance which is the heritage of the
+capable.  It interested him to consider for a moment what particular
+role she had adopted, and more than one possibility had passed through
+his head before he put the question into words--
+
+"And what exactly _do_ you do, Miss Pixie?"
+
+She stared at him blankly.
+
+"Now, if you'd asked me to say what I do _not_ do, it would have been
+easier.  Have you any sort of idea what it means to keep a home going
+with big ideas and little means, and a cook-general to thwart your
+efforts?  If you have, you can imagine the list.  Dusting, sewing,
+mending, turning, making, _un_-making, helping Bridgie, amusing the
+children, soothing the servants, humouring Dick, making dresses,
+trimming hats, covering cushions, teaching the alphabet, practising
+songs, arranging flowers, watering plants, going to shops, making up
+parcels, writing notes, making--"
+
+Stanor held up his hands in protest.
+
+"Stop!  Have pity on me!  What an appalling list!  Isn't it nearly done?
+My ears are deafened!  I am overcome with the thought of such
+activity!"  Nevertheless the smile with which he regarded her was
+distinctly approving, for, like most men, he preferred domestic women
+who did not despise home work.  "I'll tell you what it is," he added
+warmly, "Mrs Victor is like the other fellow--jolly lucky to have you!
+There are precious few girls who would give up their whole lives to a
+sister."
+
+"Bridgie is more than a sister.  She's meant father and mother and home
+to me for over ten years.  My parents died when I was so young."
+
+"Like mine.  That's a point of union between us.  My uncle has played
+the part of your Bridgie."
+
+"He has; I know it.  He's lame," answered Pixie swiftly, and was amazed
+at the heat with which the young fellow replied--
+
+"Lame?  Who said so?  Who told you?  What does it matter if he _is_
+lame?"
+
+"Not one bit.  I was only--sorry.  I didn't mean to be unkind or to
+repeat anything I shouldn't.  Why are you vexed?"
+
+He shrugged his shoulders, and snapped the scissors over a coil of
+string.
+
+"Oh, nothing.  Gets on one's nerves a bit that's all.  He's such a fine
+fellow, he would have been such a brick, but that wretched lameness has
+spoiled it all.  Till he was eighteen he was as strong as a horse--a
+fine, upstanding young giant he must have been.  Then came the
+accident--pitched from his horse against a stone wall--and for twelve
+solid years he lay on his back.  That made him only thirty, but you
+would never have believed it to see him.  He was a lot more like a man
+of fifty."
+
+Pixie laid her pen on the table, and rested her chin in the clasped
+hands.  Her eyes looked very large and wistful.
+
+"Twelve years on one's back would be pretty long.  One would live so
+fast _inside_ all the while one's body was idle.  'Twould age you.  If
+it had happened when he was fifty, 'twould have been easier, but at
+eighteen one feels so lively and awake.  Anything, _anything_ would seem
+better than to do just nothing!  To wake each morning and know there was
+nothing before one all the long hours, but to lie still!  Other people
+would get accustomed to it for you--that would be one of the bits which
+would hurt the most--for you'd never be accustomed yourself.  And which
+would be worst, do you think--the days when it was dull and the room was
+dark, or the days when the sun blazed, begging him to come out?"
+
+Stanor shook himself with an involuntary shiver.
+
+"Don't!" he cried sharply.  "Don't talk like that!  What an imagination
+you have!  I've been enough cut up about it, goodness knows, but I never
+realised all that it meant. ...  Well!  He is better now, so we needn't
+grouse about it any more.  It's only that's it's left a mark!  He was
+turned in a moment from a boy into an old man--his youth was killed,
+_and he can't get it back_!  That's one reason why he's so jolly anxious
+about me.  Like most fellows he sets an exaggerated value on the things
+he has missed himself, and it's a craze with him to--as he calls
+it--`safeguard my youth.'  He is trying to live his own lost days again
+through me, poor fellow, and it's a poor game.  Outsiders take for
+granted that I'm his heir, but that's bosh.  Fellows of thirty-five
+don't worry about heirs.  He has never mentioned the subject; all he
+_has_ done is to give me every chance in the way of education, and to
+promise me a good `start off.'  I'd have been ready to tackle serious
+work at once, but he is against a fellow having real responsibility
+until he's had time to feel his feet.  I've had to work, of course--he's
+keen on that; but he's keen on recreation, too, and freedom from
+responsibility.  He believes, poor chap, that if a fellow has freedom
+between twenty and thirty, he is better fitted to take up responsi--"
+Stanor stopped short suddenly, and the blood rushed to his cheeks.  "I
+wonder!" he repeated blankly; "I wonder!"
+
+For the first time revelation had come home to him with a flash that his
+uncle's interference in those two incipient love affairs had not been
+coincidence, but a deeply matured plan.  He recalled occasions when
+chance words had betrayed a surprising acquaintance with his own doings,
+the houses at which he visited, and the feminine members of those
+households.  Unsuspecting himself, he had doubtless betrayed more than
+he knew.  In more ways than one his uncle had determined to safeguard
+his freedom during these early years!
+
+Stanor set his lips.  The discovery was no more pleasant to him than it
+would be to any other young man of his age.  A certain amount of
+"management" a fellow must be ready to accept from one who had been so
+generous a friend, but this was going too far.  The Runkle must be shown
+that in purely personal matters his nephew would allow no one to
+interfere!
+
+The frown continued for several minutes, but finally gave place to a
+smile, for a consideration of the present position had led him to a
+comfortable conclusion.  The Runkle would be on a wrong tack this time!
+If he scented any attraction among the members of Mrs Hilliard's
+house-party, it would of a certainty be attributed to the pretty
+American heiress, Honor Ward.  No one would suspect for a moment that
+the fastidious Stanor Vaughan had been laid captive by a plain and
+penniless Irish Pixie!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWELVE.
+
+THE BAZAAR.
+
+The morning of the bazaar was radiantly fine, so that one fear at least
+was banished from the hearts of the anxious stall-holders.  No excuse
+now for patrons living at a distance!  No room for written regrets,
+enclosing minute postal-orders.  Any one who wanted to come, _could_
+come, and woe betide the contents of their purse!
+
+Mrs Hilliard's stall was placed in the centre of the hall, and in
+accordance with her own directions had been made in the shape of a great
+round table, within the hollowed centre of which she and her girl
+helpers could be protected from the crowd, while without attendant
+sprites in the persons of the two young men hovered about ready to do
+their bidding.
+
+Not a single article of needlework appeared upon the stall; not a
+solitary pincushion, nor handkerchief sachet, nor nightdress bag, not
+even so much as an inoffensive tray cloth.  There was pottery from
+Portugal, and pottery from France, pottery from Switzerland in the shape
+of jam and marmalade jars, originally purchased for twopence apiece, and
+offered for sale at an alarming sacrifice for a shilling.  There were
+beads from Venice, and tiles from Holland, and fans from Spain, and a
+display of Venetian glass especially provided for the entrapment of
+county families.  There was dainty English china (on sale or return),
+and flagons of Eau de Cologne, and white and blue Della Noblia plaques
+from Florence, and a dozen other dainty and perishable treasures.
+
+"Everything!" exclaimed Pixie proudly, as she stood with arms akimbo to
+view the completed stall, "everything can break!  Not one single thing
+that you couldn't smash in a twinkling, and no bother about it.  It's
+what I call a most _considerate_ stall, the most considerate I've ever
+seen!"
+
+Esmeralda laughed with complacent understanding, but the two men stared
+aghast.
+
+"Is it the object of purchasers to get rid of their purchases as soon as
+they are made?  Then why do they bother to--"
+
+"It is, and they have to.  It's expected of them, and they can't escape,
+but you need to be soft-hearted and live in a poor neighbourhood to
+understand the horror of the bazaar habit.  I'll tell you a story to the
+point."  Pixie's eyes danced, she preened herself for prospective
+enjoyment.
+
+"There was once a rich old lady, and she sent a pink satin cushion as a
+contribution to my sister Bridgie's stall at a military bazaar three
+years ago.  'Twas a violent pink, with sprays of dog roses and a frill
+of yellow lace, and not a soul would look at it if they had been paid
+for the trouble.  'Twas tossed about the stall for two whole days, and
+on the third, just at the closing, the Colonel's wife came in with five
+pounds in her pocket which had arrived by post for the cause.  She
+wandered about like a lost sheep from one stall to another, looking for
+anything that would be of any use to anybody in the world, and it was an
+ageing process to get rid of four pounds five.  Then she stuck.  In the
+whole room there was not one thing she'd have been paid to buy.
+
+"And then 'twas Bridgie's chance, and she beguiled her with the cushion
+for fifteen shillings, saying the down itself was worth it.  So she
+bought it to make weight, and sent it to the Major's wife, with her dear
+love, for Christmas.  The Major's wife wore it on the sofa for a whole
+afternoon when the Colonel's wife came to tea, and then packed it away
+in the spare room wardrobe till a young curate brought back a bride, and
+then she shook it up and ironed the lace and sent it, with all best
+wishes, for a wedding present.  The curate's wife wore it for one
+afternoon, just in the same way, and then _she_ packed it away, and when
+Christmas came round she said to her husband that the Colonel's wife had
+been so kind and helpful, and wouldn't it be nice to make a slight
+return if it were within their means, and what about the cushion?  So on
+the very next Christmas the Colonel's wife got a nice fat parcel, and
+when it was opened, there, before her eyes--"
+
+"Ha, ha ha!"
+
+"Ho, ho, ho!"
+
+The two young men anticipated the point with roars of laughter, and
+Pixie whisked round to the other side of the stall to cock her head at a
+pyramid of green pottery, and move the principal pieces an inch to the
+right, a thought to the left, with intent to improve the _coup d'oeil_.
+To the masculine eye it did not seem possible that such infinitesimal
+touches could have the slightest effect, but then bazaars are intended
+primarily for the entrapment of women, and Pixie knew very well that
+with them first impressions were all important.  Every shopkeeper
+realises as much, which is the reason why he labels his goods just a
+farthing beneath the ultimate shilling.  The feminine conscience might
+possibly shy at paying a whole three shillings for a bauble which could
+be done without, but, let the eye catch sight of an impressive _Two_,
+and the small eleven three-farthings is swallowed at a gulp!
+
+At two o'clock the bazaar was formally opened in a ceremony which took
+exactly ten minutes, and was so dull that it appeared to have lasted a
+long half-hour.
+
+Geoffrey Hilliard, as squire of the village, gave an elaborate
+explanation of the pressing need of a parish nurse, which his hearers
+already understood far better than he did himself; the wife of a
+neighbouring squire said that she had found a parish nurse a great
+acquisition in her own village, and she had very much pleasure in
+declaring the bazaar open, and the vicar returned thanks to the
+neighbouring squire's wife for her kindness in "being present among us
+to-day," and then every one clapped feebly, and the bazaar had begun.
+
+The few county people who were present sauntered round Esmeralda's
+stall, bought trophies of china and glass, and promptly whirled away in
+their motors, feeling that they had nobly discharged a duty.  There was
+no denying the fact that it was a dull occasion, and an arduous one into
+the bargain for sales-women who wanted to get rid of their wares.
+
+The hall was sparsely filled, and the good ladies who were present had
+come with a certain amount of money in their purses, and a fixed idea of
+the manner in which they intended to spend it.  They would pay for
+admission, they would pay for tea, they would pay for the concert--
+conceivably they might even indulge in a second tea--they would purchase
+buttonholes of hot-house flowers, patronise side shows, and possibly
+expend a few shillings at the grocery stall ("Should have to buy them in
+any case, my dear!") but there the list of their expenditure came to an
+end.  Even when Honor and Pixie were driven out of their fastness, and
+walked boldly to and fro, hawking tempting selections from the stall,
+they met with but little success, for if there is no money left in the
+purse, the best will in the world cannot produce it.
+
+"Wouldn't you like to buy this lovely little plaque of Della Robbia,
+from Florence?" inquired Pixie genially of a group of portly matrons.
+"Reduced to seven and six.  Ten shillings at the beginning of the
+afternoon.  Less than cost price!"
+
+"Very pretty!" murmured the ladies, and the portliest of them went a
+step further and added: "_And_ cheap!" but no one showed the faintest
+disposition to buy.
+
+"It would look so well in the dark corner of the drawing-room!"
+suggested Pixie, drawing a bow at a venture, and the three faces
+instantly became thoughtful and intent.
+
+"That's true.  It might do that.  Does it hang?"
+
+"It is made to hang," Pixie exhibited the holes pierced in the china,
+"but I should _prefer_ it on a bracket!  A bracket nailed across a
+corner at just the right height, and the plaque put across it, so that
+you could see it from all parts of the room.--Is your drawing-room
+blue?"
+
+"Pale blue."
+
+"How charming!  It would just set off this darker shade."
+
+"Mine is not blue.  It is pink."
+
+"But think of the contrast!  Blue and pink!  What could be sweeter?  It
+would look perfect against your walls!  Shall I make it up safely in a
+box?  We have a special parcels department."
+
+"Not to-day, thank you," said the owner of the blue drawing-room.  "I'll
+think of it," said the owner of the pink.  The silent third asked
+tentatively: "Could you make it five?"
+
+The next group were more hopeless still.  They didn't like Della Robbia.
+Common, they called it, that bright yellow and blue.  Pixie was
+informed that if she offered the plaque for nothing it would be
+declined.  She carried it dejectedly back to the stall, piled a tray
+with marmalade jars, gave it to Stanor to carry, and started off on
+another promenade.
+
+"Marmalade jars!  Fine marmalade jars!  Who will buy my marmalade jars?"
+chanted the young man loudly, and the audience giggled, and listened
+with indulgent looks, even went so far as to finger the jars themselves,
+admire the design, and marvel how they could have been made for the
+price, but not a single one of the number had a vacancy for such an
+article in the home.  Even when Stanor suggested that the jars were not
+dedicated to marmalade alone, but might be used for jam, for honey, for
+syrup, the supply seemed ridiculously out of proportion to the demand,
+and half an hour's exercise of his own pleading, seconded by Pixie's
+beguilements, brought in a total result of three shillings, which, to
+say the least of it, seemed inadequate.
+
+"At this rate," said Esmeralda, "we shall have a van-load to take home!"
+Honor, seated dejectedly on an inverted packing-chest, discoursed in a
+thin, monotonous tone on the glories of charity sales in the States.
+They were always crowded, it appeared; policemen stood at the doors to
+prevent a crush; the buying was in the nature of a competition.  Young
+girls offering wares for sale found themselves surrounded by throngs of
+millionaires, bidding against each other for the privilege of obtaining
+any article which she was pleased to offer.  Having accomplished a
+purchase, it became the overwhelming desire of the purchaser to present
+the article in question as a votive offering to the fair sales-woman
+herself. ...  Such a recital was hardly calculative to enliven the
+occasion.  Esmeralda frowned, and Pixie sighed, and for the first time
+in her existence doubted the entire superiority of being born a Briton.
+She remembered her rebuffs with the Della Robbia plaque and thought
+wistfully of those millionaires!
+
+The concert, however, was a success: the room was filled, the audience
+was appreciative, and lovely little Jack in the character of an invalid
+evoked storms of applause.  The spirits of the performers were improved
+by their success, but as the audience now cleared off rapidly on dinner
+intent, there seemed no reason why Geoffrey, Stanor, and Robert Carr
+should not follow their example.  The suggestion was made, Esmeralda
+vouchsafed a gracious permission, and went off herself to parley with
+another stall-holder.  The three men made for the door, with relief
+written on every line of their figures, and the two girls remained on
+duty seated on packing-cases.
+
+"At home in the States," remarked Honor severely, "the men would not be
+_paid_ to run off home to dine in comfort, leaving the girls alone to
+work."
+
+"On sandwiches!" supplemented Pixie sadly, "and stewed tea!"  She was
+hungry herself, and could have appreciated a well-cooked meal.  "I'd
+like to know some American men," she opined.  "You must be longing to
+get back to them, as they are so much more appreciative and polite than
+our men over here!"
+
+Honor blushed, and regarded the points of her neat little shoes.
+
+"There are a great many things, Pat-ricia," she said slowly, "that a
+girl ought to do if she were logical, and consistent, and acted up to
+what she preached.  But she isn't, and she don't.  I'm not in a mite of
+a hurry to get back..."
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+The hall was packed to overflowing for the evening concert, additional
+chairs were placed down the aisles, and even after they were filled, a
+number of people had to be content with standing places at the back.
+The performers peeping round the corner of the stage felt a mingling of
+nervousness and excitement, and vociferously instructed every one else
+to pull his or her self together, and do his or her best.
+
+It soon became apparent, however, that the audience was indulgent to the
+point of boredom, applauding with consistency each item, good or bad,
+and demanding thereto an encore.  Esmeralda's entrance brought down the
+house, Pixie's Irish ditties evoked shouts of applause, and the part
+songs but narrowly escaped being turned into choruses.  It was, indeed,
+a village audience of the old-fashioned kind, assembled together in
+pleasant, friendly spirit, with the object of being amused, and
+determined that that object should be fulfilled.
+
+The squire was a favourite, as he well deserved to be, and his beautiful
+wife was regarded with a fervent admiration, which her very aloofness
+had served to heighten.  Other ladies might call round at cottage doors,
+and talk intimately concerning book clubs, and Dorcas societies, but no
+one expected such condescension from Mrs Geoffrey Hilliard.  She
+whizzed along in her great green car, or cantered past on her tall brown
+horse, followed by a groom in livery, vouchsafing a gracious smile in
+return for bows and curtseys.  On Sundays she sat ensconced in the great
+square pew, a vision of stately beauty. ...  The good dames of the
+village felt it the great privilege of this evening to see the squire's
+lady without her hat, with diamonds flashing at her throat, smiling,
+laughing, singing--a goddess descended from her pedestal to make merry
+on their behalf.
+
+And so at last in the midst of this simple happiness came the time for
+the last item on the programme--that double tableau which every person
+in the hall was fated to remember, to the last day of his life!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
+
+THE ACCIDENT.
+
+The curtain drew up on the first tableau.  Joan sang appropriate words
+in the sweetest tones of her rich contralto voice, her eyes, like those
+of the audience, riveted on the face of the little invalid as he lay on
+his truckle bed.  White-cheeked, bandaged, reclining, the transformation
+in the child's appearance was astounding.  Considered as a piece of
+stage-craft, Joan had every reason to congratulate herself on the
+result, but the mother's heart felt a pang of dismay.  The
+representation was too life-like!  Just so would the darling look if the
+illness were real, not imaginary.  In the afternoon he had not looked so
+ghastly.  Was the double excitement too much for his strength?  Joan's
+eyes turned from the stage to the first row of seats, where her husband
+had his place.  Geoffrey looked worried; his brows contracted as he
+watched his son.  Unconsciously Joan quickened the pace of the last
+verse of her song.  She was anxious to get to the second tableau, to see
+Jack sitting up, smiling, his eyes alert.
+
+The curtain fell.  A low murmur from the audience swelled into somewhat
+forced applause.  The villagers also, Joan realised, had felt the scene
+to be almost too realistic.  Behind the scenes Honor as nurse and Pixie
+as mother propped the child's back with cushions, and showered kisses on
+his white cheeks.
+
+"Smile, Jackey, smile!" they cried.  "Now you are a getting-well boy,
+and all the people will see you, and be so pleased!  Just once more,
+darling, and then away we go, driving off home to supper in the car.
+Now a big smile!"
+
+The curtain rose.  Jack smiled his sweet, baby smile, and the audience
+burst into cheers of hearty relief.  Every one was smiling--not only the
+invalid, but also the mother, the father, the neat, complacent nurse.
+Esmeralda's voice swelled in glad content.  That last scene had been
+horrible; never, never again would she attempt to simulate so dreadful a
+reality!  What a comfort to see the darling once more bonnie and
+smiling.  Half an hour more and he would be safe in bed.
+
+The curtain fell, was lifted again in response to a storm of applause,
+the piano strummed out the first bars of "God Save the King," and the
+audience, stumbling to their feet, began to join in the strain.
+
+Suddenly, startlingly, a shriek rent the air, rising shrill above the
+heavy chorus of voices--the piercing, treble shrieks of a young child,
+followed by loud cries for help and a stampede of feet behind the
+curtain.
+
+The music ceased.  Geoffrey Hilliard and his wife rushed with one accord
+up the steps leading to the platform, the village doctor edged his way
+hurriedly through the crowded hall, the real parish nurse, wearing for
+the first time her new uniform, followed in his wake.  And still the
+treble shrieks continued--the terrible, childish shrieks.  The women in
+the audience shivered and turned pale.  _Master Jack_!  And only a
+moment before he had been playing at sickness.  It was ill-work trifling
+with serious things.  The pretty lamb!  What could have happened?
+
+Behind the curtain all was horror and confusion, a ghastly nightmare
+exaggeration of the scene just depicted.  There on the same bed lay
+Jack, writhing in torture, the bandages charred and blackened, a
+terrible smell of burning in the air.  Bending over him in torment stood
+the real father and mother; coming forward with calm, capable help came
+the veritable nurse.
+
+How had it happened?  How?  By what terrible lapse of care had the
+precious child been allowed to fall into danger?
+
+The mother's glance was fierce in its wrath and despair, but the
+explanation when it came was but too simple.  Jack had been bidden to
+sit still in bed until his clothes should be brought; from the adjoining
+dressing-room.  But for a moment Pixie had left his side, but in that
+moment a child-like impatience and restlessness had asserted itself with
+fatal consequences.  Jack had leapt up, rushed to the table, clutched at
+a glass of milk placed ready for his own refreshment, and in so doing
+had brought his bandaged head across the flame of an open candle, one of
+the small "properties" of the cottage scene.  In an instant he was in
+flames; he threw up his little arm and the sleeve of the nightshirt
+caught the blaze; he ran shrieking to and fro, dodging pursuit,
+fighting, struggling, refusing to be held.  For a moment the beholders
+had been too aghast for action; then Pixie leapt for the blankets, while
+Stanor overtook the child, tripped him up, wrapped and pressed and
+wrapped again; unfolded with trembling hands--
+
+It was no one's fault.  No one could be blamed.  Jack was old enough to
+understand and obey, was proverbially docile and obedient.  Under the
+same circumstances at home he would have been left without a qualm.  The
+unusual circumstances had created an unusual restlessness not to be
+anticipated.  Even at that bitter moment Joan realised that if it was a
+question of blame, she herself was at fault in having allowed the child
+to take part in the tableau against her husband's better judgment.  A
+smaller nature might have found relief in scattering blame wholesale,
+but there was a generosity in Irish Esmeralda's nature which lifted her
+above the temptation.  In the midst of her anguish she spared a moment
+to comfort Pixie by a breathless "Not your fault!" before she became
+unconscious of everything but the moaning figure on the bed.
+
+The treatment of Jack's burns was completed with praiseworthy
+expedition.  The local chemist flew on winged feet to his shop in the
+village street, whence he brought back all that was required.  Nurse and
+doctor sent away the relatives, and worked with swift, tender fingers;
+and presently a swathed, motionless figure was carried out to an
+impromptu ambulance, fitted up inside the great car, while the late
+audience stood massed together in the street, looking on silent and
+motionless--silent as to speech, but from every heart in that crowd went
+up a cry to God, and every mother in the village knelt that night beside
+her bed and prayed with tears for the life of little Jack Hilliard, and
+for the support and comfort of his father and mother.
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+Jack lay motionless in the darkened room, a tiny form outlined beneath
+the bedclothes; on the pillow was a swathe of bandages, with barely an
+inch between to show the small, scarred face.  The night before, with
+tossing curls, flushed cheeks, and curving coral lips, he had lain a
+picture of childish beauty, at sight of which his parents' hearts had
+glowed with tenderness and pride as they paid their good-night visit.
+
+"He looks flushed.  All this rehearsing is exciting.  I shall be glad
+when the tableaux are over," Geoffrey had said, and Joan had whispered
+back ardently--
+
+"But so _lovely_!  If he looks like that to-morrow!"
+
+And this was to-morrow; and there on the bed lay Jack, shorn, blinded,
+tortured--a marble image that moaned, and moaned...
+
+Through the night telephone and telegraph had been busy summoning the
+most skilful aid.  Here at least was one blessing of wealth--that the
+question of expense need never be considered.  This man for eyes, that
+man for skin, a third for shock to the nerves; the cleverest nurses, the
+newest appliances--the wonderful wires summoned them each in turn.
+Throughout the night motor-cars whirled up the drive, tall men in top
+coats, nurses in cloaks and bonnets, dismantled and passed into the
+house, mysterious cases were hurried up back stairways.  Joan and her
+husband were banished from the sickroom, and sat in her boudoir awaiting
+the verdict.  It was the first time they had been alone together since
+the accident, and when the door closed behind them Joan glanced at her
+husband with a quivering fear.  His face was white and drawn.  He looked
+old, and bowed, and broken, but there was no anger in his face.
+
+"Geoffrey!  Will you ever forgive me?"
+
+For all answer he held out his arms.  The old look of love was in his
+eyes, the old beautiful softness; there was no bitterness in his look,
+no anger, not the faintest shadow of blame.
+
+"Dearest, don't!  We both suffer.  We must keep strong.  We must help
+each other."
+
+"Geoff, you warned me.  You said it would be bad.  It was against your
+wish ...  It's my fault!"
+
+"Darling, darling, don't make it worse!"  He pressed her head against
+his shoulder with tender, soothing touches.  "No one could have
+foreseen.  I feared for excitement only; there was no thought of danger.
+We have enough to bear, sweetheart.  Don't torture yourself
+needlessly."
+
+"It's my doing, it's my punishment; I brought it about.  I've been cold,
+and selfish, and ungrateful.  I had so much I ought to have been so
+thankful, but I was discontented--I made you wretched.  God gave me a
+chance--" she pushed him away with frenzied hands and paced wildly, up
+and down the room--"a chance of salvation by happiness, and I was too
+mean, too poor to take it.  Geoff, do you remember that poem of
+Stevenson's, `The Celestial Surgeon'?  They have been rinking in my head
+all night, those last lines, those dreadful lines.  I _was_ `obdurate.'
+All the blessings which had been showered upon me left me dead; it
+needed this `darting pain' to `_stab my dead heart wide awake_!'"  She
+repeated the words with an emphasis, a wildness which brought an
+additional furrow into Geoffrey's brow.
+
+He sighed heavily and sank down on a corner of the sofa.  All night long
+body and mind had been on the rack; he was chill, faint, wearied to
+death.  The prospect of another hysterical scene was almost more than he
+could endure, yet through all his heart yearned over his wife, for he
+realised that, great as was his own sorrow, hers was still harder to
+bear.  He might reason with her till doomsday, he might prove over and
+again that for the night's catastrophe she was as free from blame as
+himself, yet Esmeralda, being Esmeralda, would turn her back on reason
+and persist in turning the knife in her own wound.  Speech failed him;
+but the voiceless prayer of his heart found an answer, for no words that
+he could have spoken could have appealed to his wife's heart as did his
+silence and the helpless sorrow of his face.
+
+She came running to him, fell at his feet, and laid her beautiful head
+upon his knee.
+
+"Geoff, it's so hard, for I _was_ trying!  In my own foolish way I was
+trying to please, you.  I may have been hasty, I may have been rash, but
+I _did_ mean to do right.--I did try!  I've loved you all the time,
+Geoff, but I was spoiled.  You were too good to me.  My nature was not
+fine enough to stand it.  I _presumed_ on your love.  I imagined, vain
+fool! that nothing could kill it, and then you opened my eyes.  _You_
+said yourself that I had worn you out.--It killed me, Geoff, to think
+you had grown tired!"
+
+"Joan, darling, let's forget all that.  I've been at fault too; there
+were faults on both sides, but we have _always_ loved each other; the
+love was there just as surely as the sun is behind the clouds.  And now
+... we _need_ our love...  I--I'm worn out, dear.  I can't go through
+this if you fail me.  Bury the past, forget it.  You are my wife, I am
+your husband--we _need_ each other.  Our little child!"
+
+They clung together, weeping.  In each mind was a great o'ershadowing
+dread, but the dread was not the same.  The father asked of himself--
+Would the boy _die_?  The mother--Would he live, blinded, maimed,
+crippled?
+
+The door opened, a small face peered in and withdrew.  Pixie had seen
+the entwined arms, the heads pressed together, and realised that she was
+not needed.  She crept away, and sat alone watching the slow dawn.
+
+The verdict of the specialists brought no lessening of the strain.  It
+was too soon to judge; the shock was severe, and it was a question of
+strength holding out.  Too soon to talk about the eyes.  That must be
+left.  There were injuries, no doubt, but in the present condition of
+inflammation and collapse it was only possible to wait.  And to wait
+was, to the distracted mother, the most unbearable torture she could
+have had to endure.
+
+The great house was quiet as the grave; the three guests had departed,
+little Geoff had been carried away by the vicar's wife to the refuge of
+her own full, healthful nursery.  The boy was shocked and silenced by
+the thought of his brother's danger, but at five years of age a
+continuance of grief is as little to be expected as desired, and nothing
+could be left to chance.  A cry beneath the window, a sudden, unexpected
+noise might be sufficient to turn the frail balance.
+
+Pixie was alone, more helplessly, achingly alone than she had been in
+her life.  The doors of the sickroom were closed against her.  Joan had
+no need of her.  Joan wanted Geoffrey--Geoffrey, only--Geoffrey alone to
+herself.  Even Bridgie's telegraphed offer had been refused.  "Not now!
+No.  Don't let her come--later on," Esmeralda said, and turned
+restlessly away, impatient even of the slight interruption.
+
+If it had been an ordinary, middle-class house, wherein sudden illness
+brings so much strain and upset, Pixie would have expended herself in
+service, and have found comfort in so doing, but in the great ordered
+house all moved like a well-oiled machine.  Meals appeared on the table
+at the ordinary hours, were carried away untouched, to be replaced by
+others equally tempting, equally futile.  Banks of flowers bloomed in
+the empty rooms, servants flitted about their duties; there was no stir,
+no stress, no overwork, no need at all for a poor little sister-in-law;
+nothing for her to do but wander disconsolately from room to room, from
+garden to garden, to weep alone, and pour out her tender heart in a
+passion of love and prayer.
+
+"Christ, there are so many little boys in your heaven--leave us Jack!
+God, have pity on Esmeralda!  She's his mother. ...  _Her beloved son
+...  Must he go_?"
+
+The silent house felt like a prison.  Pixie opened a side door and crept
+out into the garden.  The sun was shining cloudlessly, the scent of
+flowers hung on the air, the birds sang blithely overhead; to a
+sorrowful heart there seemed something almost brutal in this
+indifference of Nature.  How could the sun shine when a little innocent
+human soul lay suffering cruel torture in that upper room?
+
+Pixie made her way to her favourite seat at the end of a long, straight
+path, bordered on each side by square-cut hedges of yew.  On the north
+side the great bush had grown to a height of eight or ten feet, with a
+width almost as great; on the southern side the hedge was kept trimmed
+to a level of four feet, to allow a view of the sloping park.  For two
+hundred yards the path lay straight as a die between those grand old
+hedges; occasionally a peacock strutted proudly along its length,
+trailing its tail over the gravel, and then the final touch of
+picturesqueness was given to the scene, but even the approach of an
+ordinary humdrum human had an effect of dignity, of importance, in such
+old-world surroundings.  It gratified Pixie's keen sense of what it
+dramatically termed "a situation" to place herself in this point of
+vantage and act the part of audience; and to-day, though no one more
+interesting than a gardener was likely to appear, she yet made
+instinctively for the accustomed place.  The sombre green of the yew was
+more in accord with her mood than the riot of blossom in the gardens
+beyond, and she was out of sight of those terrible upper windows.  At
+any moment, as it seemed, a hand from within might stretch out to lower
+those blinds ...  Could one live through the moment that saw them fall?
+
+Pixie leaned back in her seat, and lived dreamily over the happenings of
+the last three days.  The morning after the accident the three visitors
+had made haste to pack, and depart in different directions--Honor and
+Robert Carr to town, Stanor Vaughan to friends at the other side of the
+county.  Honor had relied on Robert's escort, but he had hurried off by
+the nine o'clock train, excusing himself on the score of urgent
+business, which fact added largely to the girl's depression.
+
+It was four, o'clock.  All day long Pixie had been alone, unneeded,
+unobserved, for Joan refused to leave the nursery floor, even for meals,
+and Geoffrey remained by her side.  Looking back over the whole course
+of her life, the girl could not remember a time when she had been so
+utterly thrown on herself.  Always there had been some one at hand to
+love, to pity, to demand.  At school, at the time of her father's death,
+there had been a bevy of dear girl friends--saintly Margaret, spectacled
+Kate, Clara of the high forehead and long upper lip, Lottie, pretty and
+clever, each vieing with the other to minister to her needs.  Pixie
+followed in thought the history of each old friend.  Margaret had become
+a missionary and had sailed for far-off China, Clara was mistress in a
+High School, Lottie lived in India, married to a soldier husband, Kate
+was domiciled as governess in Scotland.  All were far away, all
+engrossed in new interests, new surroundings.
+
+Later on, in Pixie's own life, a lonely time had come when she had been
+sent to Paris, to finish her education in the home of the dear school
+Mademoiselle.  She had been lonely then, it is true--homesick,
+homeland-sick, so sick that she had even contemplated running away.  But
+how good they had been to her;--Mademoiselle and her dear old father--
+how wise, how tactful, above all, how _kind_!  Monsieur had died a few
+years before and gone to his last "repose," and Mademoiselle--marvellous
+and incredible fact--Mademoiselle had married a grey-bearded,
+bald-headed personage whom her English visitor had mentally classed as a
+contemporary of "_mon pere_" and tottering on the verge of dotage.  It
+appeared, however, by after accounts, that he was barely fifty, which
+Dick Victor insisted was an age of comparative vigour.  "Quite a
+suitable match!" he had pronounced it, but Pixie obstinately withheld
+her approval.  Mademoiselle, as mademoiselle, would have been a regular
+visitor for life; Madame, the wife of a husband exigent in disposition,
+and deeply distrustful of "_le mer_" must perforce stay dutifully at
+home in Paris, and was therefore lost to her English friends.
+
+Ah!  The years--what changes they brought!  What toll they demanded!  So
+many friends lost to sight, drifted afar by the stream of life.  So many
+changes, so _many_ breaks.  _What would the years bring next_?
+
+Pixie shut her eyes and leaned back in her seat, and being young, and
+sad, and faint, and hungry, and very, very tired, Mother Nature came to
+her aid, and laying gentle fingers on the closed lids sealed them in
+sleep, her kindliest gift.
+
+Pixie slept, and round the corner of this straight green hedge fate came
+marching towards her, with footsteps growing momentarily louder, and
+louder upon the gravel path.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
+
+A PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE.
+
+Stanor Vaughan stood with his hands thrust deep into his pockets looking
+down upon Pixie's pale, unconscious face.  He had motored thirty miles
+to hear the latest news of the little patient--that was certainly _one_
+reason of his visit; but a second had undoubtedly been to see once more
+the little patient's aunt!  At the house he had been informed that Miss
+O'Shaughnessy was in the garden, and had tracked her without difficulty
+to her favourite seat, and now there she lay, poor, sweet, tired little
+soul!  With her head tilted back against the hedge, and the wee mites of
+hands crossed upon her lap--an image of weariness and dejection.
+
+Stanor Vaughan felt within him the stirrings of tenderness and pity with
+which a strong man regards weakness in any form.  Pixie was by nature
+such a jaunty little thing that it seemed doubly pathetic to see her so
+reduced.  A fellow wanted to take her up in his arms, and comfort her,
+and make her smile again.  A flush rose in Stanor's cheeks as he
+recalled an incident of the night of the accident.  After the hurried
+return to the house, the three guests had sat alone, waiting in
+miserable suspense for the doctor's verdict, but Pixie had disappeared.
+No one knew where she had gone.  Honor searched for her in vain, and at
+last in an access of anxiety Stanor himself took up the quest.  He found
+her at last, perched on the wide window-seat of an upper window, but all
+his persuasions could not move her from her post.
+
+"Let me stay here!" she persisted.  "It comforts me.  I can see--I can
+see the _lights_!"
+
+"You mean the motor lamps as they come up the drive?"
+
+"No," she said simply, "I mean the stars."
+
+Stanor was as unimaginative as most men of his age, and his first
+impression was that the poor little thing was off her head.  He crept
+downstairs and rang for a basin of the good warm soup with which he and
+his companions had been provided an hour before.  When it was brought he
+carried the tray carefully up three long flights of stairs, and besought
+of Pixie to drink it forthwith.
+
+She shook her head, and all his persuasions could not rouse her to the
+exertion; but being an obstinate young man, he but set his lips and
+determined to succeed.
+
+This time, however, he resorted to force instead of persuasion, for,
+having placed the tray on a corner of the sill, he filled the spoon with
+soup and held it determinedly to the girl's lips.  Now, if she moved or
+made a fuss, the soup would assuredly be spilled, and no living girl
+would voluntarily pour soup over her frock!  But Pixie made no fuss.
+Meekly, obediently as a little bird, she opened her lips, and swallowed,
+and swallowed again and again, until the bowl was emptied of its
+contents.  There was something so trustful and unconscious about the
+action that the young man felt the smart of tears in his eyes--the first
+tears he had known for many a long year.
+
+When the soup had been finished he went away again, and came back with a
+warm shawl which he had procured from a maid.  In wrapping it round the
+quiescent figure his hands had accidentally come in contact with hers,
+and finding them cold as ice, it seemed the natural thing to chafe them
+gently between his own.  Quite natural also Pixie appeared to find the
+action, for the cold little fingers had tightened affectionately round
+his own.  It was left to him to flush and feel embarrassed; Pixie
+remained placidly unmoved.
+
+The memory of those moments was vivid with Stanor as he stood this
+morning looking down on the sleeping girl.  All through the three days
+of separation her image had pursued him, and he had longed increasingly
+to see her again.  The tragic incidents of that long night had had more
+effect in strengthening his dawning love than many weeks of placid,
+uneventful lives.  It had brought them heart to heart, soul to soul; all
+the little veneers and conventions of society had been thrust aside, and
+it seemed to him that the crisis had revealed her altogether sweet and
+true.
+
+When a young man is brought suddenly face to face with death, when it is
+demonstrated before his eyes that the life of the youngest among us
+hangs upon a thread, he is in the mood to appreciate the higher
+qualities.  Stanor had told himself uneasily that he had been "too
+slack," that he had not thought enough about "these things."  The
+friends with whom he had consorted were mostly careless pleasure-lovers
+like himself, but this little girl was made of a finer clay.  To live
+with her would be an inspiration: she would "pull a fellow together."
+...  There was, however, to be quite honest, another and less worthy
+impetus which urged Stanor forward, but over this he preferred to draw a
+mental veil.  We are all guilty of the absurdity of posing for our own
+benefit, and Stanor, like the rest, preferred to believe himself
+actuated wholly by lofty motives rather than partially by the wounded
+pride of a young man who has just discovered that he has been "managed"
+by an elder!
+
+He sat down on the seat beside Pixie, and laid his hand gently over
+hers.  They opened automatically to receive it; even before she lifted
+her lids he felt the welcoming touch; and felt it characteristic of her
+nature.
+
+"_You_!" she cried gladly, "Mr Vaughan, 'tis you!  Oh, that's nice!
+Was I sleeping, that I didn't see you come?  I thought I should never
+sleep again.  Jack can't sleep!  If he slept he might get well."
+
+"He is sleeping now," said Stanor quietly.  "A man was sent to the lodge
+to answer all inquiries, so that there should not be even a crunch on
+the path.  He is sleeping soundly and well.  If he sleeps on--"
+
+Pixie nodded, her face aglow.
+
+"Oh, thank God!  _How_ I thank Him!  Sleep will make all the difference.
+...  Till now it's been nothing but a moment's nap and awake again, with
+a scream.  We've _agonised_ for sleep!  I could not have gone off so
+soundly if I hadn't known, _inside_, that Jack was asleep too.  When you
+love anyone very, very much, what touches them touches you.  You can't
+keep apart.  You mayn't always know it with your _mind_, but the best
+part of you, the part that feels, _it_ knows!"
+
+She smiled in his face with frank, glad eyes, but Stanor flushed and
+looked at the ground.
+
+"Should you know it, if _I_ were unhappy, Pixie?  I should know it about
+you.  I came this afternoon partly, mostly, because I knew how you'd be
+feeling, and I thought, I hoped, that I might help.  Does it help you,
+Pixie, to have me sitting beside you, instead of being alone?  Ought I
+to have come, or stayed away?"
+
+"I'm glad you came; I love to have you.  I've been sad before this, but
+I've never been sad by myself!  Esmeralda isn't my sister at this
+moment, she's just Jack's mother, and there's only one person who can
+help her, and that is Jack's father.  Later on 'twill change!"  A flash
+of joy lit up the white face.  "Do you know what I'm waiting for?  If
+Jack lives, as soon as he's conscious and out of pain he'll send for me!
+He'll want me to tell him stories, and the stronger he grows the more
+stories he'll want!  He'll need me then--they'll all need me!"
+
+"Of course they'll need you.  Other people need you, Pixie, besides your
+relations.  Why do you always go back to them?  I was speaking of
+myself.  _I_ need you!  I've felt all at sea without you these last
+days.  I never met a girl like you before.  Most girls are all one way
+or another--so serious that they're dull, or so empty-headed that it's a
+waste of time to talk to them.  You--you are such a festive little
+thing, Pixie; a fellow could never be dull in your company, and yet
+you're so good!  You have such sweet thoughts; you are so unselfish, so
+kind."
+
+"_Go_ on!" cried Pixie urgently.  "_Go_ on!"  Her cheeks had flushed,
+her eyes sparkled with animation.  "It's the most reviving thing in the
+world to hear oneself praised, I could listen to it for hours.  In what
+particular way, now, would you say that I was `_sweet_?'"
+
+She peered at him, complacent, curious, blightingly unconscious of his
+emotions, and the young man felt a stirring of hot impatience.
+Insinuation and innuendo were of no use where Pixie O'Shaughnessy was
+concerned; an ordinary girl might scent a proposal afar off and amuse
+herself by an affectation of innocence, but nothing short of a plain
+declaration of love would convince Pixie of his sincerity.
+
+"Pixie," he said suddenly, "look at me!"  He took her hands in his, and
+drew her round so as to face him as they sat.  "Look at me, Pixie," he
+repeated.  "Look in my eyes.  Tell me, what do you see?"
+
+Pixie looked, her own eyes wide and amazed.  Her fingers stirred within
+his hands with a single nervous twitch, and then lay still, while into
+her eyes crept an expression of wonder and awe.
+
+"I don't know.--I don't know. ...  What do I see?"
+
+"Love, Pixie!  My love.  My love for you. ...  I've fallen in love with
+you, darling; didn't you know?  I knew it that last evening when we were
+together upstairs.  I've known it better and better each day since; and
+to-day I couldn't stay away, I couldn't wait any longer. ...  Pixie, do
+you love me too?"
+
+"Of course I love you.  How could I help it?" cried Pixie warmly.  Her
+fingers tightened round his with affectionate pressure, her eyes beamed
+encouragingly upon him.
+
+Never could there have been a warmer, a more spontaneous response, and
+yet, strange to relate, its very ardour had a chilling effect, for
+Stanor, though young, was experienced enough to realise that it is not
+in this fashion that a girl receives a declaration of love from the man
+of her heart.  He himself had struggled with shyness and agitation; he
+was conscious of flushed cheeks, of a hoarseness of voice, of the
+beating of pulses; then surely a girl taken by surprise, faced suddenly,
+with the question of such enormous import, should not be less moved than
+he.
+
+The words died upon his lips; involuntarily his hands relaxed their
+grasp.  There was a moment of impossible impasse and strain before, with
+a realised effort, he forced himself to express a due delight.
+
+"That makes me very happy, Pixie.  I--I was afraid you might not care.
+I'm not half good enough for you, I know that, but I'll do my best.
+I'll do everything I can to make you happy.  I'm not rich, you know,
+darling; we should have to live on what I can make independently of the
+uncle, for he has peculiar views.  He doesn't wish me to marry."
+
+"_Marry_!" repeated Pixie deeply.  She sat bolt upright in her seat, her
+eyes suddenly alight with interest and excitement.  Incredible as it
+might appear, Stanor realised that this was the first moment when the
+idea of marriage had entered her brain.  "Is it _marrying_ you are
+talking about?  You want _me_ to marry you?"
+
+"You funny little soul.  Of course I want it.  Why else should I talk
+about loving?"
+
+"I thought," she said sighing, "it was just nice feeling!  It's natural
+for people to love each other.  When they live together in the same
+house and come through trouble. ...  And we're both attractive. ...  You
+don't need to marry every one you love!"
+
+"I do," declared Stanor, "when it's a girl--when it's _you_!  I want to
+have you for my own, and keep you to myself, and how can I do that if
+you're not my wife?  If you love me, you must want to be with me too.
+Don't you, dear, don't you wish it?  Shouldn't you like to be my wife?"
+
+Pixie tilted her head in her well-known attitude of consideration.
+
+"I--I think I should!" she pronounced judicially.  "I liked you from the
+moment we met, and you've a good disposition.  Dispositions are
+important in marriage.  And I'm domestic; you like domestic girls, and
+it's convenient when you're poor. ...  On how much a head would you
+expect me to keep house?"
+
+But that was too much for Stanor's endurance; he seized her in his
+strong arms and shook her with a tender violence.
+
+"Pixie, you little witch, don't be so blightingly matter-of-fact!  I'm
+making you a declaration of love.  Kindly receive it in a suitable
+fashion. ...  A--a fellow expects a girl to be a little--er--sentimental
+and poetic, and--er--overcome, don't you know, not to begin at once to
+talk of _how much a head_!"
+
+"I've never been proposed to before.  You must excuse me if I make
+mistakes.  I'm quite willing to be sentimental; I dote upon sentiment,"
+declared Pixie in anxious propitiation. ...  "Let's go back to where you
+were talking about me!  Tell me _exactly_ what it is that you most
+admire?"
+
+Stanor had been hoping for a little adulation for himself, but he
+gallantly stifled his feelings and proceeded to offer the incense which
+he believed would be most acceptable.
+
+"Your character, darling.  Your sweet and tender heart!"
+
+"How nice," said Pixie flatly.  She sat silent for a moment and then
+ventured tentatively, "_Not_ my personal charm?"
+
+"_And_ your personal charm.  Both!  You've more personal charm than any
+girl I know."
+
+This was something like!  Pixie beamed content.  At this moment she felt
+really "engaged," and agreed rapturously with all the encomiums which
+she had heard given to this happy condition.  Success emboldened her to
+further flights.
+
+"The first time you met me you didn't admire me then!  My _appearance_,
+I mean!  You remember you said--"
+
+"I did.  Yes!  But you were so sweet in forgiving me that I admired you
+instantly for _that_!" cried Stanor, skilfully turning the subject to
+safer ground.  "And when you're my wife, Pixie, you will seem the most
+beautiful woman in the world in my eyes.  It is very unworldly of you to
+consent without asking more about my affairs, for I am a poor match for
+you, little one.  It takes years for a man to make a decent income in
+business, and I have so little experience.  My uncle has always promised
+to buy me a partnership in some good firm, but of course there would
+have to be some preliminary training.  And if he did not ... approve..."
+
+"But he _must_ approve; we must make him.  We couldn't marry without his
+consent.  He's been so good to you!"
+
+"He has, uncommonly good; but when it comes to marrying, it's a fellow's
+own affair.  I shall go my own way..."
+
+"He's lame!"
+
+"Dear little girl, what has that to do with the case in point?"
+
+"Well, I think it has!" persisted Pixie obstinately.  "It has to me.  We
+must be nice to him, Stanor, and _make_ him be pleased, whether he wants
+to or not. ...  Did you notice how naturally I called you `Stanor'?"
+
+"I did!  Couldn't you manage to put something before it by way, of
+completion?"
+
+"Nice Stanor!  Handsome Stanor!  Clever, sensible, discriminating
+Stanor!"
+
+"Quite so," said the discriminating one dryly, "but I should have
+liked--" Suddenly he burst into a ringing boyish laugh.  "This is the
+_rummiest_ proposal that was ever made!"
+
+Pixie looked anxious.
+
+"Is it?  `Rum'?  What exactly does `rum' mean, applied to a proposal?
+It didn't sound approving.  It's my very own proposal, and I won't have
+it abused.  I've enjoyed it very much. ...  I think we shall be very
+happy, Stanor, when we are married and settled down in our own little
+house."
+
+Stanor looked at her keenly, and as he looked he sighed.
+
+"Dear little Pixie," he said gently, "I hope we shall!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
+
+ESMERALDA IS TROUBLED.
+
+"Engaged!" cried Esmeralda shrilly.  "Engaged!  You!  To Stanor Vaughan?
+Pixie O'Shaughnessy, I never heard such nonsense in my life."
+
+"Then you've listened to an uncommon amount of sense.  I should not have
+thought it, to judge from your actions," returned Pixie, nettled,
+"'Twould be interesting to hear what strikes you as so ridiculous about
+it!"
+
+It was three days after Stanor's unexpected visit with its momentous
+consequences, but in consideration of the anxiety of Jack's parents, the
+news had been withheld until the boy had been pronounced out of danger.
+Only this morning had the glad verdict been vouchsafed.  Jack would
+live; given a steady, even improvement, with no unforeseen
+complications, he would live, and in a few weeks time be up and about
+once more.  The eye trouble would be more lasting, for the child was of
+a peculiarly sensitive nature, and the shock seemed inclined to localise
+itself in the eyes.  The sight itself would be saved, but for some years
+to come it would need the most careful tending.  He must wear darkened
+spectacles; be forbidden to read; be constantly under skilled care.
+Given such precautions the sight would probably become normal in later
+years...
+
+When the first verdict was given, the father, and mother clung to one
+another in an ecstasy of relief and thankfulness.  Throughout those last
+terrible days, when every conscious breath had carried with it a prayer,
+Joan had looked deep into her own soul and beheld with opened eyes the
+precipice on which she stood.  How far, how far she had travelled since
+those early married days, when, with her first-born in her arms, her
+highest ambition had been that she should be enabled so to train him
+that he should grow up, to be, in the words of the beautiful old phrase,
+"A soldier of Christ!"  Of late years she had had many ambitions for her
+boys, but they had been ambitions of the world, worldly.  The old faith
+had been gradually neglected and allowed to sink into the background of
+life.  In her own strength she had walked, in her own weakness she had
+failed.  Yet now, in default of punishment, goodness and mercy were once
+more to be her portion!  All the nobility in Joan's nature rose up as
+she pledged herself afresh to a new--a higher life!  Jack would live,
+their boy would live--that was for days the one thought of which the
+parents were conscious.  For the father it was perfect joy, but for the
+mother there still remained a pang.  Only Esmeralda herself ever knew
+the anguish of grief which she endured on account of her baby's altered
+looks.  Little Jack, with his angel face, his halo of curls, his
+exquisite, innocent eyes, had been a joy to behold.  Waking, sleeping,
+merry, sad--at one and every moment, of his life the mere sight of him
+had been as an open sesame to the hearts of those who beheld.  The knife
+turned in his mother's heart at the thought of _Jack_ shorn, scarred,
+spectacled.  She dared not confide her grief to her husband.  He would
+not understand.  _Looks_!  What could looks matter, when the child had
+been delivered from death?  Joan could see in imagination the expression
+on his face, hear the shocked tones of his voice; she would not betray
+her feelings and risk a break of the new, sweet understanding between
+them.  All men were alike.  There were occasions when only another woman
+could understand.
+
+Joan went upstairs to the empty nursery and found Marie weeping in her
+chair.
+
+"_Petite lapin!  Petite cherie!  Petite ange_!  Comfort thyself,
+Madame," she sobbed, "we can have glasses like the young American--she
+who visited Madame last year.  No rims hardly to be observed!  And the
+hair--that will grow--of a surety it will grow.  A little long upon the
+forehead, and _voila_!  The scar is hid. ...  A little care, Madame, a
+little patience, and he will be once more our _petit amour_!"
+
+"Marie," said her mistress firmly, "looks are a secondary affair.  We
+ought to be too thankful to _think_ of looks!"
+
+"_C'est vrai_, Madame," replied Marie demurely, "_C'est vrai_," and Joan
+Hilliard went back to her room with a lightened heart, and determined to
+write at once to town to ask particulars concerning rimless spectacles.
+
+And now here was Pixie, with this preposterous, ridiculous tale!  At
+sight of her young sister Joan had felt a pang of contrition.  She had
+forgotten all about her these last terrible days.  Poor girl!  She must
+have been terribly lonely, but that was the best of Pixie--she was
+always ready to forgive and forget.  Joan kissed her warmly, murmured
+apologies, and inquired affectionately how the long days had been
+passed.  And then--out it came!
+
+"Why ridiculous?" echoed Joan.  "My dear, how could it be anything else?
+Five days ago, when we were all together, there wasn't a sign of such a
+thing.  Stanor was attracted by you, of course; but he was not in love.
+He was always cheerful, always merry.  How different from poor Robert,
+who is eating his heart out for Honor Ward!"
+
+"I hope," said Pixie deeply, "that Stanor will always _keep_ cheerful.
+It won't be my fault if he does not.  No man shall `eat his heart out'
+for me if I can help it!"
+
+Joan glanced at her quickly.  She had caught the tone of pain in the
+beautiful voice, and softened to it with instant response.
+
+"Yes, dear, of course.  You'd never flirt, you're too honest, but, all
+the same, Pixie, I stick to my opinion.  I don't believe for a moment
+that Stanor Vaughan is in love with you, and I'm positively sure that
+_you_ are not in love with him!"
+
+"Can you look into my heart, Esmeralda, and see what is there?"
+
+"Yes, I can.  In this instance I can.  Fifty times better than you can
+yourself.  You are pleased, you are flattered, you are interested.  You
+were miserable and lonely, (that's my fault, for leaving you alone.  I
+don't know what Bridgie will say to me!) and Stanor was sorry for you,
+you appealed to his chivalry, and you were just in the mood to be swept
+off your feet, without realising what it all meant.  Pixie, when you
+told me just now, you were quite calm, you never even blushed!"
+
+"I don't think," reflected Pixie thoughtfully, "I ever blushed in my
+life."
+
+It occurred to her uncomfortably that Stanor also had noticed the
+omission, and had felt himself defrauded thereby.  She wondered uneasily
+if one could _learn_ to blush!
+
+As for Esmeralda, the words carried her back in a rush to the dear days
+of childhood, when the little sister had been the pet and pride of the
+family.  Indeed, and Pixie had had no need to blush!  Her very failings
+had been twisted round to pose as so many assets in her favour, while
+her own happy self-confidence had instilled the belief that every one
+wanted her, every one appreciated.  What cause had Pixie O'Shaughnessy
+to blush?
+
+"Mavourneen!" cried Esmeralda tenderly, "I know.  Thank God you've never
+needed to blush or feel afraid, but, Pixie, when love comes, it's
+different, everything is different!  It's a new birth.  The old
+confidence goes, for it's a new life that lies ahead, and one stands
+trembling on the brink. ...  If what you feel is the right thing, you'll
+understand.  Pixie, dear, do I seem the wrong person to talk like this?
+You know how it has been with us.  We drifted apart--Geoff and I--so far
+apart that I thought ...  I can't talk of it--you know what I thought--
+but, Pixie think!  If the feeling between us had not been the _real_
+thing, if we had married on affection only, where should we have been
+now?  Geoffrey loved me so much that he bore with me, through all these
+years of strain, and when this great trouble came, he forgave me at
+once, forgave everything, blotted it right out, and thought of nothing
+but how to help me most.  A cloud had rolled up between us, but it was
+_only_ a cloud, the love was there all the time, hidden, like the sun,
+ready to shine out again. ...  Oh, Pixie, dear, the right thing is so
+wonderful, so grand, that I can't let you miss it for the sake of a
+mistake.  You are so young.  You don't understand.  Let me write to
+Stanor to-night and tell him it's a mistake, that you didn't know your
+own mind!"
+
+"You may talk till doomsday, Esmeralda," said Pixie quietly, "but I
+shall keep my word!"
+
+Mentally Pixie had been deeply impressed by the other's confidences, and
+not a little perturbed thereby, but it was against her sense of loyalty
+to allow such feelings to appear.  To her own heart she confessed that
+she was altogether without this strange sense of elation, this
+mysterious new birth which Esmeralda considered all important under the
+circumstances.  She was certainly happy, for with Stanor's coming the
+cloud which had hovered over the house had begun to disperse.  She had
+opened her own eyes to the good news of Jack's first sleep, and each day
+the improvement had continued, while Stanor motored over, to sit by her
+side, cheering her, saying loving, gentle things, building castles in
+the air of a life together. ...  Yes, she was _very_ happy, but ... she
+had been happy before, there was nothing astoundingly, incredibly _new_
+in her sensations.
+
+Pixie sent her thoughts back into the past, endeavouring to recall
+recollections of Joan's engagement, of Bridgie's, of Jack's.  Yes,
+certainly they had all become exceedingly different under the new
+conditions.  She recalled in especial Bridgie's face beneath her bridal
+veil.  Child as she herself had been at that time she had been arrested
+by that expression: nor had she been allowed to forget it, for from time
+to time during the last six years she had seen it again.  "The _shiny_
+look!" she had christened it in her thoughts.  Sweet and loving were
+Bridgie's eyes for every soul that breathed, but that one particular
+look shone for one person alone!  Pixie's heart contracted in a pang of
+longing; it was almost like the pang she had felt in the drawing-room of
+Holly House on that dread afternoon when the news of her father's death
+had been broken to her--a pang of longing, a sore, sore feeling of
+something wanting.  She shivered, then drew herself together with
+indignant remembrance.  She was _engaged_!  What sentiments were these
+for an engaged girl?  How could she feel a blank when still more love
+was added to her share?
+
+"If you talk till doomsday, Esmeralda, I'll keep my word.  Stanor loves
+me and says I can help him.  I said I would, and, me dear, _I will_!
+We've been through a lot of trouble this last week, isn't it a pity to
+try to make more for no good?  My mind's made up!"
+
+Joan Hilliard was silent.  In her heart of hearts she realised that
+there was nothing more to say.  Pixie was Pixie.  As well try to move a
+mountain from its place, as persuade that sweet, loving, most loyal of
+creatures to draw back from a solemn pledge.  Something might be done
+with Stanor perhaps, or, failing Stanor, through that erratic person,
+his uncle.  She must consult with Geoffrey and Bridgie, together they
+might insist upon a period of waiting and separation before a definite
+engagement was announced.  Pixie was still under age.  Until her
+twenty-first birthday her guardians might safely demand a delay.  Joan
+knew that Stanor Vaughan had had passing fancies before now, and had
+little belief that the present entanglement would prove more lasting.
+Circumstances had induced a special intimacy with Pixie, but when they
+were separated he would repent.--If he himself set Pixie free! ...  So
+far did Joan's thoughts carry her, then, looking at the girl's happy
+face, she felt a sharp pang of contrition.
+
+"Me dear, I want you to be happy!  If it makes you happy to marry
+Stanor, I'll give you my blessing, and the finest trousseau that money
+can buy.  You're young yet, and he has his way to make.  You'll have to
+wait patiently, for a few years, until he can make a home, but it's a
+happy time, being engaged.  I feel defrauded myself to have had so
+little of it.  Storing up things in a bottom drawer, and picking up old
+furniture at sales, and polishing it up so lovingly, thinking of where
+it is going, and letters coming and going, and looking forward to the
+time when he'll come down next--'tis a beautiful time.  Three or four
+years ought to pass like a trice!"
+
+"Besides leaving plenty of time to change your mind.  I know you, me
+dear!" cried Pixie shrewdly.  "I see through you!  You'll be relieved to
+hear that the date has not been mentioned, but you can start with the
+trousseau as soon as you please.  I'll take it in quarterly instalments,
+and spin out the pleasure, besides sparing my friends the shock of
+seeing me suddenly turn grand.  My affianced suitor is coming to proffer
+a formal demand for my hand.  Will ye be kind to him now, and give him
+some tea?"
+
+"I will," said Joan readily.  To herself she added: "We are all alike,
+we O'Shaughnessys, we will be led, but we will _not_ be driven.  It's no
+use appearing to object!  Things must just take their course..."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
+
+THE "RUNKLE" INTERVENES.
+
+As little Jack continued to progress towards convalescence, the
+attention of the household became increasingly absorbed by the
+astounding fact of Pixie's projected engagement.  Bridgie, detained at
+home by malapropos ailments on the part of the children, wrote urgent
+letters by daily posts, contradicting herself on every point saving one
+alone--the advisability of delay.  Geoffrey Hilliard as host, Dick
+Victor as guardian, Jack, Pat, and Miles as brothers, proposed,
+seconded, and carried by acclamation the same waiting policy.  And no
+one who has the faintest knowledge of human nature will need to be told
+that such an attitude had the effect of rousing the youthful lovers to
+the liveliest impatience.
+
+Stanor in particular was moved to rebellion.  His pride was hurt by so
+lukewarm a reception of his addresses, which was all the more
+disagreeable for being unexpected.  The Hilliards had shown so much
+friendship and hospitality to him as a friend, that he had taken for
+granted that they would welcome him in a closer relationship.  He was
+not a great _parti_ it was true, but then by her own confession Pixie
+had no fortune of her own, and had been accustomed to modest means.
+Stanor did not say to himself in so many words that he happened to
+possess an exceptionally handsome and popular personality, he refused
+even to frame a definite thought to that effect; nevertheless the
+consciousness was there, and added to his chagrin.
+
+Lounging along the country lanes, his hands thrust deep into his
+pockets, Stanor told himself that it was a disappointing old world: a
+fellow always imagined that when he got engaged he would have the time
+of his life; in books a fellow was represented as walking upon air, in a
+condition of rapture too intense for belief--it was disappointing to
+find his own experience fall so short of the ideal!
+
+Sweet little Pixie, of course, was a beguiling creature.  Stanor would
+not admit any shortcomings in his _fiancee_, but he did allow himself to
+wonder tentatively if he had spoken too soon: if she were not, perhaps,
+a trifle young to understand the meaning of the new claim.  The daily
+interviews which he had been vouchsafed had been full of interest and
+charm, but they had not succeeded in stifling the doubt which had marred
+the first minutes of acceptance, for alas! it was when Pixie was the
+most affectionate that her lover was most acutely conscious of the
+subtle want.  And then, as if there was not already enough worry and
+trouble, there was the Runkle. ...  The Runkle would be bound to put in
+his oar!
+
+Stanor had delayed sending word of his engagement to the man who stood
+to him in the place of a father, silencing his conscience by the
+assertion that there was yet nothing to announce.  Until Pixie's
+guardians came down from their present unnatural position, there might
+be an understanding, but there could not be said to be a formal
+engagement.
+
+It was Pixie herself who finally forced him to dispatch the news.  It
+was Stanor's first experience of arguing a point with a woman, and a
+most confusing experience he found it.  Pixie invariably agreed with
+every separate argument as he advanced it, saw eye to eye with him on
+each separate point, sympathised warmly with his scruples, and then at
+the very moment when she was expected to say "yes" to the final
+decision, said "no," and stuck to it with conviction.  Questioned as to
+the reason of such inconsistency, she had only one excuse to plead, and
+she pled it so often and with such insistence that it seemed easier to
+give in than to continue the argument.  "Yes, but he's lame!" came back
+automatically as the answer to every remonstrance, till Stanor shrugged
+his shoulders and sat down to write his letter.
+
+Pixie _was_ indeed, as the family had it, "the soft-heartedest
+creature!"  He loved her for it, but none the less depression seized him
+anew.  Now there would be the Runkle to tackle!  More arguments!  More
+objections!  A fellow ought to be jolly happy when he was married, to
+make up for all the fuss and agitation which went before...
+
+Stanor's letter of announcement was short and to the point, for he was
+not in the mood to lapse into sentiment.  By return of post came the
+Runkle's reply, short also, and non-committal--nothing more, in fact,
+than the announcement that he preferred to discuss the matter in person,
+and would the following day arrive at a certain hotel, where he bade his
+nephew meet him.  Stanor therefore made his excuses to his hostess,
+packed his bag, and dispatched a letter of explanation to his _fiancee_,
+unconscious of the fact that she was at that very hour receiving
+information first hand.
+
+It came about in the most natural, and simple fashion.  As Pixie,
+roaming the grounds bareheaded to gather a bouquet of wild flowers to
+present to the little invalid, emerged suddenly upon the drive, she
+found a tall, grey-coated stranger leaning against a tree in an attitude
+expressive of collapse.  He was very tall, and very thin; the framework
+of his shoulders was high and broad, but from them the coat seemed to
+flap around a mere skeleton of a frame.  His hair was dark, his
+complexion pale, and leaning back with closed eyes he looked so
+alarmingly ill and spent, that, dropping the flowers to the ground,
+Pixie leaped forward to the rescue.
+
+"You're ill. ...  Let me help!  There's a seat close by. ...  Lean on
+me!"
+
+The stranger opened his eyes, and Pixie started as most people _did_
+start when they first looked into Stephen Glynn's eyes, which were of
+that deep, intense blue which is romantically dubbed purple and fringed
+with dark lashes, which added still further to their depth.  They were
+sad eyes, tired eyes, eyes of an exceeding and pitiful beauty, eloquent
+of suffering and repression.  They looked out under dark, level brows,
+and with their intense earnestness of expression flooded the thin face
+with life.  As she met their gaze Pixie drew a quick, gasping breath of
+surprise.
+
+The stranger in his turn looked surprised and startled; he bent his head
+in involuntary salute, and glanced down at the tiny arm offered for his
+support.  Six foot two he stood in his stockinged feet, and there was
+this scrap of a girl offering her little doll-like arm for support!  His
+lips twitched, and Pixie pounced on the meaning with her usual agility.
+
+"But I'm wiry," she announced proudly.  "You wouldn't believe my
+strength till you try it.  Just for a few yards. ...  Round the corner
+by the oak-tree.  _Please_!"
+
+"You are too kind.  I am not ill, but the walk from the station is very
+steep and I found it tiring, that's all.  I shall be glad to rest for a
+moment, but I assure you no help is needed."
+
+He took a step forward as he spoke, a quick, halting step, and Pixie
+looking on, exclaimed sharply--
+
+"_The Runkle_!  Stanor's Runkle!  It is _You_!"
+
+The stranger looked down sharply, his dark brows puckering in
+astonishment.
+
+"I am Stephen Glynn--`The Runkle,' as my nephew is pleased to call me.
+But you--you cannot be--"
+
+Pixie nodded vehemently.
+
+"I _am_!--Pixie O'Shaughnessy.  Going to be your niece.  I made Stanor
+write to tell you.--"
+
+They seated themselves on the bench under the oak-tree, and turning,
+faced each other in a long, curious silence, during which each face
+assumed a puzzled expression.
+
+"But you are younger than I expected!" cried Pixie.
+
+"That is exactly what I was on the point of saying to _you_," returned
+Mr Glynn.
+
+"And yet we know exactly how old we both are--twenty and thirty-five!"
+Pixie continued volubly.  "But you know how it is with young men--they
+have no patience to explain!  You'd be amused if you could see the image
+I'd made of you in my own mind.  I expect 'twas the same with yourself?"
+
+"It was," agreed Mr Glynn, and for a moment imagined that his
+disappointment was his own secret--only for a moment, however, then
+Pixie tilted her head at him with a sideways nod of comprehension.
+
+"Knowing, of course, that I was a sister of the beautiful Mrs Hilliard!
+No wonder you are disappointed!"  The eyes smiled sympathy at him, and
+the wide lips parted in the friendliest of smiles.  "You'll like me
+better when you know me!"
+
+"I--I am quite sure," stammered Mr Glynn, and then drew himself up
+suddenly, as if doubtful if agreement were altogether polite under the
+circumstances.  Once more his lips twitched, and as their eyes met he
+and Pixie collapsed together into an irresistible laugh.  He laughed
+well, a rare and charming accomplishment, and Pixie regarded him with
+benign approval.
+
+"Quite romantic, isn't it?  The noble kinsman journeying in state to
+demand the hand of the charming maid, falls ill of the perils of the
+way, and encounters a simple cottage maid gathering flowers, who
+succours the stranger in distress.  Their identity is then revealed. ...
+I _do_ love romances!" cried Pixie gushingly.  "And it's much nicer
+having an interview out here than in a stuffy room ...  Please, Mr
+Kinsman--begin!"
+
+He frowned, bit at his under lip, and moved restlessly on the seat,
+glancing once and again at the girl's bright, unclouded face.
+
+"I'm afraid," he began slowly, "that the matter is not altogether as
+simple as you suppose.  Stanor is not in a position to marry without my
+consent.  I think he has not sufficiently appreciated this fact.  If he
+had consulted me in the first instance I should have endeavoured to
+prevent--"
+
+She turned her eyes upon him like a frightened child.  There was no
+trace of anger, nor wounded pride--those he could have faced with ease--
+but the simple shock of the young face smote on his heart.
+
+"I had not seen you, remember!" he cried quickly.  "My decision had no
+personal element.  I object at this stage to Stanor becoming engaged
+to--anybody.  He has, no doubt, explained to you our relationship.  His
+parents being dead, I made myself responsible for his training.  He may
+have explained to you also my wish that for a few years he should be
+free to enjoy his youth without any sense of responsibility?"
+
+Pixie nodded gravely.
+
+"He has.  I understood.  You had missed those years yourself, and knew
+they could never come back, so you gave them to him as a gift--young,
+happy years without a care, that he could treasure up in his mind and
+remember all his life.  'Twas a big gift!  Stanor, and I are grateful to
+you--"
+
+Stephen Glynn looked at her: a long, thoughtful glance.  The programme
+which he had mapped out for his nephew had been unusual enough to
+attract much notice.  He had been alternately annoyed and amused by the
+criticism of his neighbours, all of whom seemed incapable of
+understanding his real motives.  It seemed a strange thing that it
+should be reserved for this slip of a girl to see into his inmost heart.
+He was touched and impressed, but that "Stanor and I" hardened him to
+his task.
+
+"Thank you.  You _do_ understand.  At the moment Stanor may perhaps be
+inclined to question the wisdom of my programme, but I think in after
+years he will, as you say, look back.  The fact remains, however, that
+he has not yet tackled the real business of life.  He has had, with my
+concurrence, plenty of change and variety, which I believe in the end
+will prove of service in his life's work, and he has stood the test.
+Many young fellows of his age would have abused their opportunities.  He
+has not done so.  My only disappointment has been that he has developed
+no definite taste, but has been content to flit from one fancy to the
+next, always carried away by the latest novelty on the horizon."
+
+Once again she tilted her head and scanned him with her wide, clear
+eyes.
+
+"You mean _Me_?" she said quickly.  "I'm the `Latest Novelty!'  You mean
+that he'll change about me, too?  Isn't that what you mean?"
+
+"My dear--Miss O'Shaughnessy," (incredible though it appeared, Stephen
+had been on the verge of saying "Pixie," pure and simple) "you leap too
+hastily to conclusions.  I am afraid I must appear an odious person!
+Believe me, I had no intention of rushing into the very heart of this
+matter as we have done.  My plan was to call upon your sister and
+explain to her my position--"
+
+"'Tis not my sister's business, 'tis mine," interrupted Pixie firmly.
+"And it would be a waste of time talking to her, for she'd agree with
+every word you said.  They don't _want_ me to be engaged.  They think
+I'm too young.  If you have anything to say, say it to _Me_.  _I'm_ the
+person to be convinced."
+
+She settled herself more comfortably as she spoke, turning towards him
+with one arm resting on the back of the bench, and her head leaning
+against the upturned hand.  The sun shone on her face through the
+flickering branches.  No, she was not pretty; not in the least the sort
+of girl Stanor was accustomed to fancy.  Yet there was something
+extraordinarily attractive about the little face, with its clear eyes,
+its wide, generous mouth, its vivacity of expression.  Already, after a
+bare ten minutes' acquaintance, Stephen Glynn so shrank from the
+prospect of hurting Pixie O'Shaughnessy that it required an effort to
+keep an unflinching front.
+
+"I agree with your people," he said resolutely, "that you and Stanor are
+too young, and that this matter has been settled too hastily.  Apart
+from that, I should object to any engagement until he has proved his
+ability to work for a wife.  I have a position in view for him in a
+large mercantile house in New York.  After a couple of years' experience
+there he would come back to the London house, and, if his work justified
+it, I am prepared to buy him a partnership in the firm.  He would then
+be his own master, free to do as he chose, but for these two years he
+must be free, with no other responsibility than this work."
+
+"You think," queried Pixie slowly, "that I should interfere ... that he
+would do his work better without me?"
+
+"It's not a question of thinking, Miss O'Shaughnessy.  I am not content
+to think.  I want to make _sure_ that Stanor will settle seriously to
+work and keep in the same mind.  He is a good fellow, a dear fellow,
+but, hitherto at least, he has not been stable."
+
+"He has never been engaged before?"
+
+"Not actually.  I have been forewarned in time to prevent matters
+reaching that length.  Twice over--"
+
+A small hand waved imperiously for silence.
+
+"I don't _think_," said Pixie sternly, "that you have any right to tell
+me things like that.  If Stanor wants me to know, he can tell me
+himself.  It's his affair.  I am not at all curious."  She drew a
+fluttering breath, and stared down at the ground, and a silence followed
+during which Stephen was denouncing himself as a hard-hearted tyrant,
+when suddenly a minute voice spoke in his ear--
+
+"Were they--_pretty_?"
+
+It was impossible to resist the smile which twitched at his lips.
+Unpleasant as was the nature of his errand, he, the most unsmiling of
+men, had already twice over been moved to merriment.  Stephen was
+reflecting on the incongruity of the fact, when Pixie again answered his
+unspoken retort.
+
+"It's not curiosity, it's interest.  _Quite_ a different thing!  And
+even if they _were_, it's much more serious when a man cares for a girl
+for her--er--mental attractions, because they go on getting better,
+instead of fading away like a pretty face.  It's very difficult to know
+what is right. ...  I've promised Stanor, and he has promised me, and it
+seems a poor way of showing that you know your own mind, to break your
+word at the beginning!"
+
+"I don't ask you to break your word, Miss O'Shaughnessy; only to hold it
+in abeyance.  I am speaking in Stanor's interests, which we have equally
+at heart.  I know his character--forgive me!--better than you can do,
+and I am asking you to help me in arranging a probation which I _know_
+to be wise under the circumstances.  Let him go to New York a free man;
+let him work and show his mettle, and at the end of two years, if you
+are both of the same mind, I will give you every help in my power: but
+meantime there must be no engagement, no _tie_, no regular
+correspondence.  You must both be perfectly free.  I am sorry to appear
+hard-hearted, but these are my conditions, and I can't see my way to
+alter them."
+
+"Well--why not?" cried Pixie unexpectedly.  "What's two years?  They'll
+pass in no time.  And men hate writing.  Stanor will be relieved not to
+have to bother about the mails.  He can do without letters.  He will
+know that I am waiting."  She held out her hand with a sudden, radiant
+smile.  "And _you_ will be pleased!  It is the least we can do to
+consider your wishes.  If I persuade Stanor--if I send him away alone to
+work," the small fingers tightened ingratiatingly over his, "you _will_
+like me, won't you?  You will think of me as a real niece?"
+
+Stephen Glynn's deep blue eyes stared deeply into hers.  He did not
+deliberately intend to put his thoughts into speech; if he had given
+himself a moment to think he would certainly not have done so, but so
+strong was the mental conviction that the words seemed to form
+themselves without his volition.
+
+"You don't love him!  You could not face a separation so easily if you
+loved him as you should..."
+
+For the first time a flash of real anger showed itself on Pixie's face.
+Her features hardened; the child disappeared and he caught a glimpse of
+the woman that was to be.
+
+"What right have you to say that?" she asked deeply.  "You prove to me
+that it would be for Stanor's good to wait, and then say I cannot love
+him because I agree!  _You_ love him, yet you can hurt him and bring him
+disappointment when you feel it is right.  I understood that, so I was
+not angry, but in return you might understand _me_!"
+
+"Forgive me!" cried Stephen.  "I should not have said it.  You deserved
+a better return for your kindness.  I suppose I must seem very
+illogical, but it did not occur to me that the two cases were on a
+parallel.  The love of a _fiancee_ is not as a rule as well balanced as
+that of an uncle, Miss O'Shaughnessy!"
+
+"It _ought_ to be," asserted Pixie.  "It ought to be everything that
+another love is, and more!  A man's future wife ought to be the person
+of all others to be reasonable, and unselfish, and logical where he is
+concerned, even if it means separation for a _dozen_ years."
+
+No answer.  Stephen gazed blankly into space as if unconscious of her
+words.
+
+"_Oughtn't_ she?"
+
+"Er--theoretically, Miss O'Shaughnessy, she _ought_!"
+
+"Very well, then.  I am proud that I _am_, and so ought you to be, too.
+...  It's strange how I'm misunderstood!  My family say the same thing--
+Esmeralda, Geoffrey, Stanor himself, and it hurts, for no one before has
+ever doubted if I could love..."  She was silent for a minute, twisting
+her fingers together in restless fashion, then looking suddenly into his
+face she asked: "What do you know about it to be so sure?  Have _you_
+ever been in love?"
+
+Stephen flushed.
+
+"Never.  No.  I was--My accident cut me off from all such things."
+
+"What a pity!  She would have helped you through."  She smiled into his
+eyes with a beautiful sweetness.  "Well, Mr Glynn, if I am too
+reasonable to please you, perhaps Stanor will make up for it.  You
+mayn't find it so easy to influence _him_."
+
+"I'm sure of that.  I look forward to a stiff time, but if you are on my
+side we shall bring him round.  Now perhaps I had better continue my way
+to the house and see Mrs Hilliard.  This is pre-eminently your
+business, as you say, but still--"
+
+"She'll expect it!  Yes--" Pixie rose to her feet with an air of
+depression--"and she'll _crow_!  They'll _all_ crow!  It's what they
+wanted, and when you come and lay down an ultimatum, they'll rejoice and
+triumph."  Her small face assumed an aspect of acute dejection.  "That's
+the worst of being the youngest. ...  It's a trying thing when your
+family insist on sitting in committees about your own affairs, when you
+understand them so much better yourself.  I'm not even supposed to
+understand the feelings of my own heart without a sister to translate
+them for me.  Shouldn't you think, now, a girl of twenty--nearly
+twenty-one--is old enough to know that?"
+
+"I don't think it is a foregone conclusion.  More things than years go
+to the formation of character, Miss O'Shaughnessy, and if you will allow
+me to say so, you seem to me very young for your age."
+
+"_I_ always was," sighed Pixie sadly.  "They've said that all my life.
+Some people always _are_ young, and some are old.  There was a girl at
+school, middle-aged at thirteen, poor creature, and had been from her
+birth.  My sister Bridgie will never be more than seventeen if she lives
+to a hundred, and I mean myself to stick at twenty.  It doesn't mean
+trying to look younger than you are, or being ashamed of your age, and
+silly, and frivolous: it's just keeping your _heart_ young!"
+
+The man, who was young in years and old in heart, looked down at the
+girl with a very sad smile.  She spoke as if it were such an easy thing
+to do: he knew by bitter experience that under such circumstances as his
+own it was of all tasks the most difficult.  To stand aside during the
+best years; to see the tide of life rush by, and have no part in the
+great enterprise; and then to regain his powers when youth had passed,
+and the keen savour of youth had died down into a dull indifference; to
+be dependent for love on the careless affection of a lad,--how was it
+possible for a man to keep his heart warm in such circumstances as
+these?
+
+"Life has been kind to you," he answered dryly, and Pixie flung him a
+quick retort--
+
+"I have been kind to _it_!  If I'd chosen I might have found it hard
+enough.  We were always poor.  I never remember a time when I hadn't to
+pretend and make up, because it was impossible to get what I wanted.
+Then I was sent to school, and I hated going, and my father died when I
+was away, and they told me the news with not a soul belonging to me
+anywhere near, and I loved my father _far_ more than other girls love
+theirs! ...  Then we left Knock. ...  If _you'd_ lived in a castle, and
+gone to a villa in a street, with a parlour in front and a dining-room
+behind looking out on the kitchen wall, _you_ wouldn't talk about life
+being kind--!
+
+"I was in France for years being educated, and not able to repine
+because it was a friend and she'd taken me cheaply.  Perhaps you'd say
+that was luck, and an advantage, and it _was_, but all the same it's
+hard on a young thing to have to enjoy herself in a foreign language,
+and spend the holidays with a maiden lady and a snuffy old _Pere_,
+because there wasn't enough money to come home.  Yes," concluded Pixie,
+with a smirk of satisfaction, "I've had my trials, and now I'm to be
+crossed in love, and have my young lover rent from me. ...  You couldn't
+have the audacity to call life easy after that!"
+
+Stephen tried valiantly to look sympathetic, but it was useless; he was
+obliged to smile, and Pixie smiled with him, adding cheerily--
+
+"Anyway, it's living! ...  And I do love it when things happen.  It's so
+_dreadfully_ interesting to be alive."
+
+The man who was old before his time looked down upon the girl with a
+wistful glance.  Small as she was, insignificant as she had appeared at
+first sight, he had never seen any one more intensely, vitally alive.
+Her tiny feet skimmed the ground, her tiny head reared itself jauntily
+on the slender neck, the brilliance of her smile, the embracing
+kindliness of her glance more than compensated for the plainness of her
+features.  Like most people who made the acquaintance of Pixie
+O'Shaughnessy, Stephen Glynn was already beginning to fall under her
+spell and marvel at the blindness of his first impression.  She was
+_not_ plain; she was _not_ insignificant; she was, on the contrary,
+unusually fascinating and attractive!
+
+"But she does not love him," Stephen repeated to himself.  "She does not
+know what love means.  When she does--when she has grown into a woman,
+and understands--what a wife, what a companion she will make!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
+
+THINKING ALIKE.
+
+Pixie's prophecy that her relatives would "crow" on hearing Mr Glynn's
+ultimatum, was fulfilled in spirit, if not in letter.
+
+Geoffrey and Joan Hilliard assumed their most staid and dignified airs
+for the important interview, referred to "my sister Patricia" with a
+deference worthy of a royal princess, and would have Stanor's guardian
+to understand that the man was not born who was worthy to be her spouse;
+all the same, as mortal young men went, they had nothing to say against
+Stanor Vaughan, and if time proved him to be in earnest, both in love
+and work, they would be graciously pleased to welcome him into the
+family.  Then, the business part of the interview being ended, the
+ambassador was invited to stay to lunch, and Esmeralda swept from the
+room, leaving the two men to a less formal colloquy over their
+cigarettes.
+
+"It's a comfort to find that we think alike on this matter," began
+Geoffrey, holding out a match for his guest's benefit.  "I have felt
+rather guilty about it, for Pixie was left too much to herself during
+our little fellow's illness.  She was in trouble herself, poor little
+soul, and, being lonely, was no doubt unduly susceptible to sympathy.
+Neither my wife nor I suspected any attachment before the night of the
+boy's accident, and if things had gone on in a normal way I doubt if the
+engagement would have come off.  Pixie is very young; we have hardly
+accustomed ourselves to the idea that she is grown-up.  This is the
+first visit she had paid to us by herself, so that we feel responsible."
+
+"You are uncertain of her feelings?  I had the same doubt myself, but
+when I said as much Miss O'Shaughnessy was indignant.  She insists that
+she does love the boy."
+
+Geoffrey Hilliard laughed.
+
+"It would be difficult to find the person whom Pixie does _not_ love.
+He is handsome, and he was kind to her when she was lonely.  She loves
+him as she loves a dozen other friends.  But--"
+
+"_But_!" repeated Stephen Glynn eloquently.
+
+He who had missed the greatest of earthly gifts yet realised enough of
+its mystery to join in that eloquent protest.  He smoked in silence for
+several moments, while his thoughts wandered backwards.
+
+"_She would have helped you through_!"
+
+The echo of those words rang in his ears; he heard again the musical
+tone of the soft Irish voice, saw again the sweet, deep glance.  Strange
+that those words had in the very moment of utterance uprooted the
+conviction of years!  Lying prisoner on his couch, he had been thankful,
+in a grim, embittered fashion which had belied the true meaning of the
+word, that love had not entered into his life.  It would have been but
+another cross to bear, since no woman could be expected to be faithful
+to a maimed and querulous invalid.  Now in a lightning flash he realised
+that there were women--this Irish Pixie, for example--whose love could
+triumphantly overcome such an ordeal.  _She_ would have "_helped him
+through_" and, supported and cheered by her influence, his recovery
+would doubtless have been far more speedy.  He straightened himself, and
+said quickly--
+
+"Miss O'Shaughnessy would make a charming wife.  For Stanor's sake I
+could not wish anything better than that she may be ready to fulfil her
+promise at the end of the two years."
+
+"There's no doubt about that," said Geoffrey gravely.  "She will be
+ready.  There's more than a grain of obstinacy in Pixie's nature--very
+amiable obstinacy, no doubt, but it may be just as mischievous on such
+occasions as the present.  She has given her word and she'll stick to
+it, even if she recognises that she has made a mistake.  We may talk,
+but it will have no effect.  Unless your nephew himself releases her,
+she will feel as much bound as if they had been married in Westminster
+Abbey.  It's the way she's made--the most faithful little creature under
+the sun!  It will be our duty to protect her against herself, by making
+the young fellow understand that for her sake, almost more than his own,
+he must be honest, and not allow a mistaken sense of honour to urge him
+to repeat his proposal if his heart is not in it.  He could make Pixie
+his wife, but he could never make her happy.  The most cruel fate that
+could happen to that little soul would be to be married to a man who did
+not love her absolutely!"
+
+Stephen Glynn nodded, his lips pressed together in grim determination.
+
+"He shall understand.  If I know Stanor, there will be no difficulty, in
+persuading him.  He is a good lad, but it is not in him to sacrifice
+himself.  I have been so anxious to secure him an unclouded youth that
+he is hardly to be blamed for putting his own interests in the
+foreground."
+
+"It's a fault that many of us suffer from in the early twenties," said
+Geoffrey, lightly.  He thought the conversation had lasted long enough,
+and was glad when the sound of the gong came as an interruption and he
+could escort his guest to the dining-room, where the two ladies were
+already waiting.
+
+Luncheon was a cheerful meal despite the somewhat difficult position of
+the diners, and Stephen Glynn felt the pang of the lonely as he absorbed
+the atmosphere of love and sympathy.  The beautiful hostess looked tired
+and worn, but her eyes brightened as she looked at her husband, and, in
+a quiet, unostentatious fashion, he watched incessantly over her
+comfort.  It was easy to see that the trial through which this husband
+and wife had passed had but riveted the bond between them and brought
+them into closest sympathy, while the little sister comported herself
+with a brisk cheeriness which was as far as possible removed from the
+attitude of the proverbial damsel crossed in love.  The time passed so
+pleasantly that the visitor was unfeignedly sorry when it was time to
+make his farewells.
+
+Pixie ran upstairs for the small son and heir, who had by now returned
+home, and in her absence Stephen exchanged a few last words with
+Esmeralda.
+
+"I am immensely relieved and thankful that you and your husband feel
+with me in this matter.  And Miss O'Shaughnessy has been wonderfully
+forgiving!  She does not appear to bear me any rancour."
+
+Esmeralda gave a short, impatient laugh.
+
+"_Rancour_!  _Pixie_!  You know very little of my sister, Mr Glynn, to
+suggest such a possibility.  She is incapable of rancour!"
+
+Pixie returned at this moment, leading Geoff by the hand, and when the
+great car glided up to the door, she and the boy went out together to
+see the last of the departing guest.  Stephen stepped haltingly into the
+car, and leaned over the side to wave his own farewells.  Pixie smiled,
+and waved in reply, and the sun shone down on her uncovered face.
+Stephen would have been thankful if he could have carried away that
+picture as a last impression, but as the car moved slowly from the door,
+she stepped back into the shadow of the porch, and he caught a last
+glimpse of her standing there, gazing after him with a grave, fixed
+gaze.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
+
+"I WILL BE TRUE."
+
+Stephen Glynn's dreaded interview with his nephew was a typical example
+of the unexpectedness of events, for instead of the indignant opposition
+which he had feared, his proposition was listened to in silence, and
+accepted with an alacrity, which was almost more disconcerting than
+revolt.
+
+In truth Stanor saw in the proposal an escape from what had proved a
+disappointing and humiliating position.  His pride had been hurt by the
+attitude of Pixie's relatives, and he could not imagine himself visiting
+at their houses with any degree of enjoyment.  A dragging engagement in
+England would therefore be a trying experience to all concerned, and it
+seemed a very good way out of the difficulty to pass the time of waiting
+abroad.
+
+From his own point of view, moreover, he was relieved not to begin his
+business life in London, where so far he had been free to pursue his
+pleasures only.  To be cooped up in a dull city office, while but a mile
+or two away his friends were taking part in the social functions of the
+season, would be an exasperating experience, whereas in New York he
+would be troubled by no such comparisons, but would find much to enjoy
+in the novelty of his surroundings.  Two years would soon pass, and at
+the end he would come home to an assured position, marry Pixie, and live
+happily ever after.
+
+He sat gazing thoughtfully into space, the fingers of his right hand
+slowly stroking his chin, a picture of handsome, young manhood, while
+the deep blue eyes of Stephen Glynn watched him intently from across the
+room.  A long minute of silence; then the two pairs of eyes met, and
+Stanor found himself flushing with a discomfort as acute as mysterious.
+He straightened himself, and put a hasty question--
+
+"What does Pixie say?"
+
+"Miss O'Shaughnessy was--" Stephen hesitated over the word--"she seemed
+to think that my wishes should have weight.  She will consent to
+anything that seems for your good.  She said that two years would
+quickly pass."
+
+Stanor frowned.  The thought had passed through his own brain, but no
+man could approve of such sentiments on the part of a _fiancee_.  There
+was an edge of irritation in his voice--
+
+"Of course your wishes should be considered.  I don't need any one to
+teach me that.  I am quite willing to go to America and do my best.  I
+shall be glad of the change, but it's nonsense to talk of not being
+bound.  We _are_ bound!  We need not correspond regularly, if you make a
+point of that.  I don't think much of letters in any case.  Writing once
+a week, or once in two or three months, can make no difference.  There's
+only _one_ thing that counts!"
+
+Stephen assented gravely.
+
+"Just so.  From what I have seen of Miss O'Shaughnessy, I realise that
+her only hope of happiness is to marry a man who can give her a
+whole-hearted love."
+
+Stanor's glance held a mingling of surprise and displeasure--surprise
+that the Runkle should offer any opinion at all on matters sentimental;
+displeasure, that any one should dictate to him concerning Pixie's
+welfare.  He switched the conversation back to more practical matters.
+
+"When shall I start?  The sooner the better.  If the post is open there
+is no object in wasting time."  His face lit up with sudden animation.
+"I say!  Could we manage it in a fortnight, should you think?  Miss Ward
+is sailing by the `Louisiana,' and it would be topping if I could go by
+the same boat.  I might wire to-day about a berth."
+
+"Who is Miss Ward?"
+
+"Honor Ward--an American.  Awfully jolly!  No end of an heiress!  I've
+met her a good deal this year, and she was staying at the Hilliards' at
+the time of the accident.  Awfully fond of Pixie, and a real good sort!"
+He laughed shortly.--"We _ought_ to go out together, for we are
+mentally in the same boat.  She had intended to stay over the summer,
+but ... her romance has gone wrong too!"
+
+"Indeed!"
+
+Stephen was not interested in Miss Ward's romance, but he made no
+objection to the sending of a wire to the Liverpool office of the
+steamship company, and before evening the berth was secured and Stanor's
+departure definitely dated.
+
+"I'll spend the rest of the time with Pixie," was Stanor's first
+determination, but each hour that passed brought with it a recollection
+of some new duty which must needs be performed.  One cannot leave one's
+native land, even for a couple of years, without a goodly amount of
+preparation and leave-taking, and the time allotted to Pixie dwindled
+down to a few hasty visits of a few hours' duration, when the lovers sat
+together in the peacock walk, and talked, and built castles in the air,
+and laughed, and sighed, and occasionally indulged in a little, mild
+sparring, as very youthful lovers are apt to do.
+
+"I must say you are uncommonly complacent about my going!  A fellow
+hardly expects the girl he's engaged to, to be in such uproarious
+spirits just on the eve of their separation," Stanor would grumble
+suddenly at the end of one of his _fiancee's_ mirthful sallies,
+whereupon Pixie, her vanity hurt by his want of appreciation, would snap
+out a quick retort.
+
+"If I'm sad you want me to be glad, and if I'm glad you're annoyed that
+I'm not sad!  There's no pleasing you!  You ought to be thankful that
+I'm so strong and self-controlled. ...  Would it make it easier; if I
+were hanging round your neck in hysterics?"
+
+"Oh, bar hysterics!  But a tear or two now and then...  Suppose it was
+Bridgie who was going instead of me?--would you be as strong and
+self-controlled?"
+
+"If Bridgie were going I'd ...  I'd jump--" In the midst of her
+passionate declaration Pixie drew herself up, shot a frightened glance,
+and concluded lamely, "I'd ... be very much distressed!"
+
+"That's not what you were going to say.  You were going to say that
+you'd jump into the water and swim after her, or some such nonsense.
+You can be perfectly cool and calm about _my going_, but when it comes
+to Bridgie--"
+
+"If it'll please you better, I'll begin to howl this minute!  I don't
+often, but when I do, it seems as if I could never stop.  I _thought_,"
+Pixie added reproachfully, "when a girl was engaged the man thought her
+perfect, and everything she did, and she sat listening while he sang her
+praises from morn to night.  But _you_ find fault--"
+
+"I don't call it finding fault to wish you would show more feeling!
+It's the best sort of compliment, if you could only see it."
+
+"I like my compliments undiluted, not wrapped up in reproaches, like
+powder in jam.  Besides, you're fairly complacent yourself!  I heard you
+telling Geoffrey that you expected to have a real good time."
+
+"And suppose I did?  What about that?  Would you prefer me to be lonely,
+and miserable?"
+
+"Oh _dear_!" cried Pixie poignantly; "we're quarrelling!  Whose fault
+was it?  Was it mine?  I'm sorry, Stanor.  _Don't_ let's quarrel!  I
+want you to be happy.  Could I love you if I didn't do that?  I want it
+more than anything else.  Honor is coming to-morrow, and I shall ask her
+to look after you for me.  She knows so many people, and is so rich that
+she has the power to help.  She will be glad to have you so near.  _Why_
+is she going home so _soon_, Stanor?  I thought--"
+
+"So did we all, but it's fallen through somehow.  I met Carr in town
+looking the picture of woe, but, naturally, he didn't vouchsafe any
+explanation.  Honor will probably unburden herself to you to-morrow."
+
+"She will.  If she doesn't I shall ask her," said Pixie calmly.  "I'm
+crossed in love myself, so I can understand.  It's no use trying to
+sympathise till you've had a taste of the trouble yourself.  Has it ever
+occurred to you to notice the mad ways most people set about
+sympathising?  Sticking needles all over you while they're trying to be
+kind.  Sympathising is an art, you know, and you have to adapt it to
+each person.  Some like a little and some like a lot, and some like
+cheering up, and others want you to cry with them and make the worst of
+everything, and then it's off their minds and they perk up.  Bridgie and
+I used to think sometimes of hiring ourselves out as professional
+sympathisers, for there seems such a lack of people who can do it
+properly."
+
+"Suppose you give me a demonstration now!  You haven't been too generous
+in that respect, Pixie."
+
+Pixie looked at him, her head on one side, her eyes very intent and
+serious.
+
+"You don't _need_ it," she said simply, and Stanor looked hurt and
+discomfited, and cast about in his mind for a convincing retort which
+should prove beyond doubt the pathos of his position, failed to find it,
+and acknowledged unwillingly to himself that as a matter of fact he
+_was_ very well satisfied with the way in which things were going.
+Pixie was right--she usually _was_ right; it might, perhaps, be more
+agreeable if on occasions she could be judiciously blind!  He adopted
+the pained and dignified air which experience had taught him was the
+surest method of softening Pixie's heart, and in less than a minute she
+was hanging on his arm and contradicting all her former statements.
+
+Stanor was very much in love as he travelled back to town that day, and
+the two years of waiting seemed unbearably long.  Perhaps, if he got on
+unusually well, the Runkle might be induced to shorten the probation.
+He would sound him at the end of the first year.
+
+The next day Honor Ward made a farewell visit to the Hall, and took
+lunch with the family in the panelled dining-room, where she had joined
+in many merry gatherings a few weeks before.  Pixie saw the brown eyes
+flash a quick glance at the place which had been allotted to Robert
+Carr, but except for that glance there was no sign of anything unusual
+in either looks or manner.  Honor was as neat, as composed, as assured
+in manner as in her happiest moments, and the flow of her conversation
+was in no wise moderated.  Her hurried departure was explained by a
+casual "I guessed I'd better," which Mr and Mrs Hilliard accepted as
+sufficient reason for a girl who had no ties, and more money than she
+knew how to use.  Even Pixie's lynx-eyes failed to descry any sign of
+heart-break.  But when the meal was over and the two girls retired
+upstairs for a private chat, Honor's jaunty manners fell from her like a
+cloak, and she crouched in a corner of the sofa, looking suddenly tired
+and worn.  For the moment, however, it was not of her own affairs that
+she elected to speak.
+
+"Pat-ricia," she began suddenly, turning her honey-coloured eyes on her
+friend's face with a penetrating gaze, "I guess this is about the last
+real talk you and I are going to get for a good long spell.  There's no
+time for fluttering round the point.  What I've got in my mind I'm going
+to _say_!  What in the land made you get engaged to Stanor Vaughan?"
+
+"Because he asked me, of course!" replied Pixie readily, and the
+American girl gave a shrug of impatience.
+
+"If another man had asked you, then, it would have been just the same.
+You would have accepted him for, the same reason!"
+
+Pixie's head reared proudly; her eyes sent out a flash.
+
+"That's horrid, and you _meant_ it to be!  I shan't answer your
+questions if you're going to be rude."
+
+"I'm not rude, Patricia O'Shaughnessy.  You're a real sweet girl, and I
+want you should be as happy as you deserve, which you certainly won't be
+if you don't take the trouble to understand your own heart.  What's all
+this nonsense about being bound and not bound, and waiting for two years
+without writing, he on one side of the ocean, and you on another?  I can
+understand an old uncle proposing it--it's just the sort of scheme an
+old uncle _would_ propose--but it won't work out, Patricia, you take my
+word for that!"
+
+"Thank you, my dear, I prefer to take my own; and he's _not_ old.  He
+has the most beautiful eyes you ever beheld.  What do you suppose Stanor
+would say if he knew you were talking to me like this?"
+
+"I'm not saying a word against Stanor!  Who could say a word against
+such an elegant creature?  He's been a good friend to me, and he's going
+to make a first-rate man when he gets to work, and has something to
+think about besides his beautiful self.  America'll knock the nonsense
+out of him.  At the end of two years, it will be another man who comes
+home, a _man_ instead of a boy, just as you will probably be a woman
+instead of a girl.  It's the most critical time in life, when that
+change is taking place, and you'd better believe I know what I'm talking
+about.  If I were in your place I'd move mountains, Patricia, if
+mountains had to be moved, but I'd make sure that the man I loved didn't
+go through it apart from me!"
+
+"But if the mountain happened to be an uncle, and the uncle had done
+everything, and was willing to go on doing everything, and was older and
+wiser, and knew better than you?  Oh, dearie me," concluded Pixie
+impatiently, "_everybody_ seems against me!  I'm lectured and thwarted
+on every side, I've not been brought up to it, and it's most depressing.
+And it's not a bit of good, either; it's my own life, and I shall do as
+I like.  And what about yourself, me dear?  You are very brave about
+lecturing me.  Suppose _I_ take a turn!  Why are you going back to
+America and leaving Robert Carr behind?  What have you been doing to
+him?"
+
+"I asked him to marry me, and he refused."
+
+Pixie sat stunned with surprise and consternation.  Honor's voice had
+been flat and level as usual, not a break or quiver had broken its flow,
+but there was a pallor round the lips, a sudden sharpening of the
+features, which spoke eloquently enough, and smote the hearer to the
+heart.
+
+"Oh, me dear, forgive me!" she cried deeply.  "I'm ashamed.  Don't say
+any more.  I'd no right to ask."
+
+"I meant to tell you.  I'd have told you in any case.  You guessed how
+it was when we were here.  You can't be in love like that and _not_ show
+it.--I thought of him all day; I dreamt of him all night ... when he was
+out of the room I was wretched; when he came in I knew it by instinct;
+before I could see him I knew it!  In a crowded room I could hear every
+word he said, see every movement. ...  When I was sitting alone, and
+heard his voice in the distance, my heart leapt--it made me quite faint.
+I _loved_ him, Pixie!"
+
+Pixie sat staring with startled gaze.  She did not speak, and for a
+moment it seemed that her thoughts had wandered from the story on hand,
+for her eyes had an _inward_ look, as though she were puzzling out a
+problem which concerned herself alone.  She started slightly as Honor
+again began to speak, and straightened herself with a quick air of
+attention.
+
+"Sometimes I thought he loved me too, but he was not the sort of man who
+would choose to marry an heiress.  My money stood between us.  So I ...
+I tried to make it easier by showing him ... how I felt.  When we went
+back to London he said good-bye, and refused my invitations, but I met
+him by accident, and," she straightened herself with a gesture of pride,
+"I am not ashamed of what I did.  It would have been folly to sacrifice
+happiness for the sake of a convention ...  I _asked_ him--"
+
+"And?"
+
+"_He cared_!"  Honor said softly.  "I had my hour, Pixie, but it was
+_only_ an hour, for at the end we got to business, and that wrecked it
+all.  I've told you about my factory.  Over here in England, when people
+have looked at me through monocles, there _have_ been times when I've
+been ashamed of pickles, but at home I'm proud!  Father started as a
+working lad, and built up that great business, brick by brick.  Three
+thousand `hands' are employed in the factory, but they were never
+`hands' to him, Patricia, they were _souls_!  He'd been a working man
+himself, and there was not one thing in their lives he didn't know and
+understand.  One of the first things I can remember, right away back in
+my childhood, is being taken to a window to see those men stream past,
+and being told they were my friends and that I was to take care of them.
+He had no airs, my pappa; he never gave himself frills, or pretended to
+be anything different from what he was--there was only one thing he was
+proud of, and that was that his men were the happiest and most contented
+in the States.  When he died he left me more than his money, he left me
+his _men_!"
+
+Honor paused, her eyes bright with suppressed feeling, and Pixie, keen
+as ever to appreciate an emotional situation, drew a fluttering breath.
+
+"Yes, yes!  How beautiful!  How fine!  All those lives ...  Honor,
+aren't you proud?"
+
+"I've told you before, my dear.  The best part of me is proud and glad,
+but we're pretty complex creatures, and I guess a big duty is bound to
+come up against a pleasure now and then.  At the moment I was speaking
+of, it was one man against three thousand, and the one man weighed down
+the scale."
+
+"But ... but I don't understand."  Pixie puckered her brows in
+bewilderment.  "Why couldn't you have both?"
+
+"I thought I could, Patricia.  I calculated, as my work was
+full-fledged, and his had hardly begun, that he would be willing to come
+over with me.  It's a pretty stiff proposition for a woman to run a big
+show like that, and I'd have been glad of help.  _He_ allowed I'd have
+to sell up and keep house for him in England, and make a splash among
+the big-wigs to help him in his career.  He put it as politely as he
+knew how, but he made me understand that it was beneath his dignity to
+live in America and work in pickles, and he guessed if I sold out I
+could find a buyer who would look after the men as well as or better
+than I did myself.  So--" she waved her small white hands--"there we
+were!  He wouldn't, and I couldn't!  That's the truth, Patricia.  I
+could _not_!  I don't dispute that another person might not manage as
+well as I, that's not the question.  It's my work, it's my
+responsibility; those men were left to _me_, and I can't desert.  So the
+dream's over, my dear, and I'm going back to real hard life."
+
+Pixie nodded, the big tears standing in her eyes.
+
+"I should have done the same.  He didn't love you _enough_."
+
+Honor gave a quivering laugh.
+
+"He said the same of me.  Couldn't seem to see any difference between
+the two `give-ups'; but there _is_ a difference, Patricia.  Well, my
+dear, that's the end of it.  We said good-bye, and there's no reason why
+we should meet again. ...  Our lives lie in different places, and it's
+no use trying to join them."
+
+"Honor, dear, are you very unhappy?"
+
+Honor's neat little features puckered in a grimace.
+
+"I wouldn't go so far as to say I feel exactly gay, Patricia, but don't
+you worry about me.  I'll come up smiling.  You wouldn't have me pine
+for the sake of a man who wouldn't have me when he got the chance?  I
+guess Honor P Ward has too much grit for that!"
+
+Pixie nodded slowly.
+
+"But you mustn't be too hard on him, Honor--It's natural to want to live
+in one's own country, and he loves _his_ work just as you do yours.
+He'll be a judge some day--chins like that always _do_ succeed--and
+ambition means so much to a man.  You might have been pleased for your
+own sake; but would you have thought more of _him_ as a _man_ if he'd
+thrown it all up and lived on your pickles?"
+
+Honor brought her eyebrows together in a frown.
+
+"Now, Pixie O'Shaughnessy, don't you go taking his part!  I guess I've
+got about as much sense of justice as most, and in a few months' time
+I'll see the matter in its right light, but for the moment I'm injured,
+and I _choose_ to feel injured; and I expect my friends to feel injured
+too.  I've offered myself to an Englishman, and he's refused to have me.
+There's no getting; away from that fact, and it's not a soothing
+experience for a free-born American.  I'm through with Englishmen from
+this time forth!"
+
+"Except Stanor!  Be kind to Stanor.  He's always liked you, Honor, and
+he knows no one in America.  Promise me to be kind to Stanor, and see
+him as often as you can!"
+
+Honor's brown eyes searched Pixie's face with a curious glance.  Then,
+rising from her chair, she crossed the room and kissed her warmly upon
+the cheek.
+
+"Yes, I'll look after him.  I'll do anything you want, and nothing you
+_don't_ want.  You can trust me, my dear.  Remember that, won't you?
+You're a real sweet thing, Patricia!"
+
+Pixie laughed with characteristic complacence.
+
+"Yes; but why especially at this moment?  I always _am_, aren't I?  And
+how superfluous, me dear, to talk of trust?  What have I got to trust?"
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+A fortnight later Geoffrey and Joan Hilliard, Stephen Glynn, and Pixie
+journeyed to Liverpool to see the last of the travellers.  The little
+party stood together on the deck of the great vessel, surrounded on
+every side by surge and bustle, but silent themselves with the silence
+which falls when the heart is full.  Travelling down to Liverpool they
+had been quite a merry party, and there had been no effort in keeping
+the conversation afloat; but the last moments sealed their lips.  Honor
+drew a few yards apart with the elderly, kindly-faced maid who was her
+faithful attendant; Stephen Glynn and the Hilliards strolled away in an
+opposite direction.  Pixie and her lover stood alone.
+
+"Well, little girl... this is good-bye!  Don't forget me, darling..."
+
+Pixie gulped.
+
+"Take care of yourself, Stanor.  Be happy! ...  I want you to be happy."
+
+"I shall be wretched!" said Stanor hotly.  "I'm leaving you.  Oh!
+Pixie--" He broke off suddenly as the last bell sounded its warning
+note, and bent to kiss her lips; "Good-bye, my little love!"
+
+The tears poured down Pixie's face as she turned aside, and Geoffrey
+Hilliard led her tenderly down the gangway on to the landing-stage,
+where they stood together, tightly jammed in the crowd which watched the
+great steamer slowly move into the stream.  Stanor and Honor were
+standing together leaning over the towering hull; their faces were pale,
+but they were smiling bravely, and Pixie wiped away her own tears and
+waved an answering hand.  Esmeralda was holding her hand in a tender
+pressure; Geoffrey on one side, and Stephen Glynn on the other were
+regarding her with anxious solicitude.  She smiled back with tremulous
+gratitude and gripped Esmeralda's hand.  Though Stanor was going, there
+was still much left, so many people to care and be kind.
+
+The great vessel quivered and moved slowly forward.  Honor drew a little
+white handkerchief from her bag and waved it in the air; on all sides
+the action was repeated, accompanied by cries of farewell mingled with
+sounds of distress.  Pixie caught the sound of a sob, and craned forward
+to look in the face of a girl about her own age who stood on the other
+side of Stephen Glynn.  She wore a small, close-fitting cap, which left
+her face fully exposed as it strained towards that moving deck, and on
+the small white features was printed a very extremity of anguish.  She
+was not crying; her glazed eyes showed no trace of tears, she seemed
+unconscious of the deep sobs which issued from her lips; every nerve,
+every power was concentrated in the one effort to behold to the last
+possible moment one beloved face.  Instinctively Pixie's eyes followed
+those of the girl's, and beheld a man's face gazing back, haggard,
+a-quiver, almost contorted with suffering.  The story was plain to read.
+They also were lovers--this man and this girl.  They also were facing
+years of separation, and the moment of parting held for them the
+bitterness of death.  Pixie O'Shaughnessy glanced from one to the other,
+and then thoughtfully, deliberately along the deck to the spot where
+stood her own lover, handsome Stanor, bending his head to overhear a
+remark from Honor, stroking his blonde moustache.  He looked dejected,
+depressed; but compared with the depth of emotion on the other man's
+face, such meagre expressions faded into nothingness.  The moment during
+which she gazed at his face held for Pixie the significance of years;
+then once more her eyes returned to the girl by her side...
+
+With every minute now the great vessel was slipping farther and farther
+from the stage; the faces of her passengers would soon cease to be
+distinguishable; in a few minutes they would be lost to sight, yet
+Pixie's gaze remained riveted on the girl by her side, and on her own
+face was printed a mute dismay which one onlooker at least was quick to
+read.
+
+"_She understands_!"  Stephen Glynn said to himself.  "That girl's face
+has been an object lesson stronger than any words.  She understands the
+difference."
+
+A moment later he met Pixie's eyes, and realised afresh the truth of his
+diagnosis; but she drew herself up with a sort of defiance, and turned
+sharply aside.
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+In the train returning to town Pixie sat mute and pallid, and was waited
+upon assiduously by her sister and brother.  To them it seemed natural
+enough that the poor child should collapse after the strain of parting.
+Only one person understood the deepest reason of her distress.  He
+offered none of the conventional words of sympathy, and forebore to echo
+Esmeralda's rosy pictures of the future.  It brought another pang to
+Pixie's sore heart to realise that he _understood_.  "But I will be
+true," she repeated to herself with insistent energy; "I will be true.
+I have given my word."  She felt very tired and spent as she lay back in
+the corner of her cushioned seat.  On heart and brain was an
+unaccustomed weight; her very limbs felt heavy and inert, as if the
+motive power had failed.  Virtue had gone out of her.  At the sight of
+that anguished face, the years of Pixie's untroubled girlhood had come
+to an end.  Henceforth she was a woman, carrying her own burden.  "But I
+will be true," she repeated gallantly; "I will be true!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER NINETEEN.
+
+PIXIE SEEKS ADVICE.
+
+A tall young man lay stretched upon a narrow bed which filled an entire
+wall of the one and only sitting-room in a diminutive London flat.  On
+the wall opposite was a fireplace and a small sideboard; against the
+third wall stood a couple of upright chairs.  In the centre of the room
+stood a table.  A wicker arm-chair did duty for an invalid tray, and
+held a selection of pipes, books, and writing materials, also a bottle
+of medicine, and a plate of unappetising biscuits.
+
+The young man took up one of the biscuits, nibbled a crumb from the
+edge, and aimed the remainder violently at a picture at the other end of
+the room.  It hit, and the biscuit broke into pieces, but the glass
+remained intact, a result which seemed far from satisfactory to the
+onlooker.  He fumbled impatiently for matches with which to light his
+pipe, touched the box with the tips of his outstretched fingers, and
+jerked it impatiently, whereupon it rolled on to the floor to a spot
+just a couple of inches beyond the utmost stretch of his arm.  There it
+lay--obvious and aggravating, tempting, baffling, inaccessible.  Pipe
+and tobacco lay at hand to supply the soothing which he so sorely needed
+at the end of a lonely, suffering day, and for the want of that box they
+might as well have been a mile away!  A bell was within reach, but what
+use to ring that when no one was near to hear?  The slovenly woman who
+called herself a working housekeeper found it necessary to sally forth
+each afternoon on long shopping expeditions, and during her absence her
+master had to fend for himself as best he might.
+
+Dislocation of the knee was the young man's malady, just a sharp, swift
+rush at cricket, a slip on the dry grass, and Pat O'Shaughnessy
+shuddered every time he thought of the hours and days which followed
+that fall.  He had asked to be taken home, for the tiny flat was a new
+possession, and as such dear to his heart.  And to his home they carried
+him, and there he had lain already for longer than he cared to think.
+He had progressed to the point when he had been able to dismiss an
+excellent but uncongenial nurse, and manage with an hour's assistance
+morning and night; and what with reading the newspapers, smoking his
+pipe, and writing an occasional letter the first part of the day passed
+quickly enough.
+
+Lunch was served at one o'clock on a papier-mache tray spread with a
+crumpled tray cloth.  It was a tepid, tasteless, unappetising meal, for
+the working housekeeper knew neither how to work nor to cook, and Pat
+invariably sent it away almost untasted; yet every day he looked forward
+afresh to the advent of one o'clock and the appearance of the tray.  It
+was something to happen, something to do, a change from the reading, of
+which he was already getting tired.  But, after lunch, after he had
+wakened from the short siesta; and realised that it was not yet three
+o'clock, and that six, seven hours still remained to be lived through
+before he could reasonably hope to settle for the night--that was a
+dreary time indeed, and Pat, whose interests lay all outdoors, knew no
+means of lightening it.
+
+For the first week of his confinement Pat had had a string of visitors.
+The members of his cricket team had appeared to express sympathy and
+encouragement; some of the men against whom he had been playing had also
+put in an appearance; "fellows" had come up from "the office," but in
+the busy life of London a man who goes _on_ being ill is apt to find
+himself left alone before many weeks have passed.  There was only one
+man who never failed to put in an appearance at some hour of the day,
+and on that man's coming Pat O'Shaughnessy this afternoon concentrated
+every power in his possession.
+
+"They say if you wish hard enough you can make a fellow do what you
+like.  If there's any truth in it, Glynn ought to come along pretty
+soon.  How am I going to lie here all afternoon and stare at those
+miserable matches?  That wretched woman might be buying the town ...
+wish to goodness she'd fetch something fit to eat.  If that doctor
+fellow won't tell me to-morrow how much longer I have to lie here,
+I'll--I'll get up and walk, just to spite him!"  Pat jerked defiantly
+and immediately gave a groan of pain.  Not much chance of walking yet
+awhile!
+
+He wriggled to the edge of the sofa, and made another unsuccessful
+stretch for the matchbox, but those baffling two inches refused to be
+mastered.  Pat looked around in a desperate search for help, seized a
+biscuit, and aimed it carefully for the farther edge of the box, which,
+hit at the right angle, might perhaps have been twitched nearer to the
+sofa, but though Pat had considerable skill in the art of throwing, he
+had no luck this afternoon.  Biscuit after biscuit was hurled with
+increasing violence, as temper suffered from the strain of failure, and
+each time the matchbox jumped still farther _away_, while another shower
+of biscuit crumbs bespattered the carpet.  Then at last when the plate
+was emptied, and the last hope gone, deliverance came at the sound of
+the opening of the front door, and a quick, well-known whistle.  Glynn!
+No one else knew the secret of the hidden key.  Pat halloed loudly in
+response, and the next moment Stephen stood in the doorway, looking with
+bewildered eyes at the bespattered carpet.
+
+"What's this?  Playing Aunt Sally?  Rather a wanton waste of biscuits,
+isn't it?"
+
+"Try 'em, and see!  Soft as dough.  Give me that matchbox, Glynn, like a
+good soul.  It fell off my chair, and I've been lying here pining for a
+smoke, and making pot shots of it, till I felt half mad.--If you only
+knew--"
+
+Stephen Glynn _did_ know.  It was that knowledge which brought him
+regularly day by day to the little flat at the top of eighty odd stairs.
+
+He walked across the room, his limp decidedly less in evidence through
+the passage of the years, reclaimed the matchbox, and seated himself on
+the edge of the couch.
+
+"Light up, old fellow!  It will do you good."
+
+Pat struck the match and sucked luxuriously.  There was no need to make
+conversation to Glynn.  He was a comfortable fellow who always
+understood.  It was good to see him sitting there, to look at his fine,
+grave face, and realise that boredom was over, and the happiest hour of
+the day begun.
+
+"I say, Glynn, I _made_ you, come!  Mesmerised you.  It drives a fellow
+crazy to be done by a couple of inches.  They say if you concentrate
+your thoughts--"
+
+"I arranged this morning to call at five o'clock.  I should say by the
+look of things you had concentrated on biscuits. ...  Where's that old
+woman?"  Glynn inquired.
+
+"Shopping.  Always is.  And never buys anything by the taste of the
+food.  You should have seen my lunch!  I'll be a living skeleton at this
+rate."
+
+Pat spoke laughingly, but the hearer frowned, and looked quickly at the
+sharpened face, on which weeks of solitary confinement had left their
+mark.
+
+"Why don't you round into her?"
+
+"Daren't!  Might make off and leave me in the lurch.  They do, you know.
+Fellows have told me.  Any one is better than no one at all when you
+are minus a leg."
+
+"And about that letter?  The time limit runs out to-morrow.  You know
+what I threatened?"
+
+Pat shrugged impatiently.
+
+"You and your threats!  What's the sense in worrying when it's got to
+_end_ in worrying, and can do no good?  I've told you till I'm tired--
+the Hilliards are abroad, Dick Victor is down with rheumatism, and
+Bridgie makes sure he's going to die every time his finger aches.  She'd
+leave him if I died first, I suppose, but I wouldn't make too sure even
+of that.  'Twould have finished her altogether to know that I was lying
+here all these weeks.  However!"  Pat shrugged again, "you've got your
+way, bad luck to you!  Bridgie wrote to ask me to run down over a
+Sunday, to cheer Victor, so there was nothing for it but to own up.
+She'll write me reams of advice and send embrocations.  Serve you jolly
+well right if I rubbed them on _you_ instead!"
+
+"Fire away, I don't mind!  Your muscles would be the better for a little
+exercise."
+
+Stephen Glynn leaned back in his chair and looked affectionately at
+Pat's dark, handsome face.
+
+Twelve months before the two men had been introduced at a dinner
+following a big cricket match in which Pat had distinguished himself by
+a fine innings.
+
+Stephen Glynn from his seat on the grand stand had applauded with the
+rest of the great audience, and looking at the printed card in his hand
+had wondered whether by chance P.D. O'Shaughnessy was any relation of
+the Irish Pixie to whom Stanor Vaughan had wished to be engaged.  The
+wonder changed to certainty a few hours later on as he was introduced to
+the young player, and met the gaze of his straight, dark eyes!  Pat was
+the handsomest of the three brothers, nevertheless it was not so much of
+beautiful Joan Hilliard that the beholder was reminded, at this moment,
+as of the younger sister, who had no beauty at all, for Esmeralda's
+perfect features lacked the irradiation of kindliness and humour which
+characterised Pat and Pixie alike.
+
+Stephen Glynn was not given to sudden fancies, but Pat O'Shaughnessy
+walked straight into his heart at that first meeting, and during the
+year which followed the acquaintance so begun had ripened into intimacy.
+Stephen spent a great part of his time in chambers in town, where the
+young man became a welcome guest, and no sooner had Pat soared to the
+giddy height of possessing a flat of his own, and settled down as a
+householder, than the accident had happened which made him dependent on
+the visits of his friends.
+
+Pat was aware of Stephen's connection with his family, and more
+especially with Pixie, but after one brief reference the subject had
+been buried, though Pixie herself was frequently mentioned.  There was a
+portrait of her on Pat's mantelpiece to which Stephen's eyes often
+strayed during his visits to the flat.  Truth to tell it was not a
+flattering portrait.  Pixie was unfortunate so far as photography was
+concerned, since all her bad points were reproduced and her charm
+disappeared.  Stephen wondered if Stanor were gazing at the same
+photograph in New York, and if his imagination were strong enough to
+supply the want.  For himself he had no difficulty.  So vivid was his
+recollection that even as he looked the set face of the photograph
+seemed to flash into smiles...
+
+"Well, I am glad you have given in," he said, continuing his sentence
+after a leisurely pause, "because my threat was real.  I should
+certainly have written to your people if you hadn't done it yourself.
+You are not being properly looked after, young man.  To put it bluntly,
+you are not having enough to eat.  When do you expect that obnoxious old
+female to come back and make tea?"
+
+"'Deed, I've given over expecting," said Pat despondently.  "Most days
+I'm ready to drink the teapot by the time she brings it in.  It's a toss
+up if we _get_ it at all to-day as she's gone out."
+
+Stephen rose to his tall height and stood smiling down at the tired
+face.
+
+"You shall have it, my boy.  I'll make it myself.  It won't be the first
+time.  Have you any idea where the crocks live?  I don't want to
+upset--"
+
+Before he could complete his sentence, a thunderous knocking sounded at
+the front door, causing both hearers to start with astonishment.  So
+loud, so vigorous, so long continued was the assault, that the first
+surprise deepened into indignation, and Pat's dark eyes sent out a
+threatening flash.
+
+"This is _too_ strong!  Lost her key, I suppose, and expects me to crawl
+on all fours to let her in.  You go, Glynn, and send her straight here
+to me!  I'll give her a bit of my mind.  I'm just in the mood to do it.
+Leaving me alone for hours and then knocking down my door--!"
+
+Stephen Glynn crossed the floor, his face set into an alarming
+sternness, for his irritation against his friend's neglectful domestic
+had been growing for weeks, and this was the culminating point.  He
+seized the handle, turned it quietly, and jerked the door open with a
+disconcerting suddenness which had the effect of precipitating the
+new-comer into his arms.
+
+"Me _dear_!" she cried rapturously, as she fell, but the same moment she
+was upright again, bolt upright, scorching him with disdainful glance.
+"It's not!--Where am I? ...  They _said_ it was Mr O'Shaughnessy's
+flat!"
+
+"It is!  It is!  Pixie!  Pixie!  Come in, come quick!  Oh, you blessed
+little simpleton, what's the meaning of this?  You'd no business to
+come.  There's no room for you.  I'm nearly well now.  There's no need--
+I--I--oh, _Pixie_!" and poor, tired, hungry Pat lay back weakly in his
+sister's arms, and came perilously near subsiding into tears.  It had
+been hard work keeping up his pecker all these long weeks, it was so
+overwhelmingly home-like to see Pixie's face, and listen to her deep
+mellow tones...
+
+"There's _got_ to be room, me dear, for I've come to stay.  How dare you
+be ill by yourself?  It's a bad effect London has had on you to make you
+so close and secretive.  You!  Who yelled the roof down if you as much
+as scratched your finger!  We got the note this morning--"
+
+"Glynn made me send it.  He's been worrying at me for weeks.  Glynn!"
+Pat raised his voice to a cry.  "Where are you?  Come in, you beggar.
+It's Pixie!  My sister Pixie.  Come and shake hands."
+
+Stephen and Pixie advanced to meet each other, red in the face and
+bashful of eye.  The encounter at the door had been so momentary that
+she had hardly had time to recognise the pale face with the deep blue
+eyes, but for him the first note of her voice had been sufficient.
+
+"I--I thought you were Pat!"
+
+"I--I thought you were the cook."
+
+She straightened at that, with a flash of half-resentful curiosity.
+
+"_Why_?  Am I so like her?  And do you always--"
+
+"No, I don't.  Never.  But to-day she was out and your brother wanted--"
+
+"Oh, never mind, never mind!"  Pat was too greedy for attention to
+suffer a long explanation.  "What does it matter?  She's a wretch,
+Pixie, and she goes out and leaves me to starve.  That good Samaritan
+was going to make tea when we heard your knock."
+
+"I'll make it for you!"  Pixie said smiling, but she seated herself by
+Pat's side as she spoke, and slid her hand through his arm, as though
+realising that for the moment her presence was the most welcome of all
+refreshments.  She wore a smartly cut tweed coat and skirt, and a soft
+felt hat with a pheasant's wing, and her brown shoes looked quite
+preposterously small and bright.  In some indefinable way she looked
+older and more responsible than the Pixie of two years before, and
+Stephen noticed the change and wondered as to its cause.
+
+"I think I will go now," he said hastily; "your sister will look after
+you, O'Shaughnessy, and you will have so much to talk about.  I'll come
+again!"
+
+But Pat was obstinate; he insisted that his friend should stay on, and
+appealed to Pixie for support, which she gave with great good will.
+
+"Please do!  We'll talk the better for having an audience.  Won't we
+now, Pat?  We were always vain."
+
+"We were!"  Pat assented with unction.  "Especially yourself.  Even as a
+child you played up to the gallery."  He took her hand and squeezed it
+tightly between his own.  "Pixie, I can't believe it!  It's too nice to
+be true.  And Bridgie, what does she say?  Does she approve of your
+coming?"
+
+"She did one moment, and the next she didn't.  She was torn in pieces,
+the poor darling, wanting to come to you herself, and to stay with Dick
+at the same time.  You know what she is when Dick is ill!  His
+temperature has only to go up one point, to have her weeping about Homes
+for Soldiers' Orphans, and pondering how she can get most votes.  He's
+buried with military honours, poor Richard, every time he takes a cold.
+So I was firm with her, and just packed my things and came off.  At my
+age," she straightened herself proudly, "one must assert oneself!  I
+asked her what was the use of being twenty-two, and how she'd have liked
+it herself if she'd been thwarted at that age, and she gave in and
+packed up remedies."  Pixie picked up the brown leather bag which lay on
+the floor, and opening it, took out the contents in turns, and laid them
+on the sofa.  "A tonic to build up the system.  Beef-juice, to ditto.
+Embrocation to be applied to the injured part. ...  Tabloids.  Home-made
+cake. ...  Oh, that tea!  I'd forgotten.  I'll make it at once, and
+we'll eat the cake now."  She jumped up and looked appealingly towards
+Stephen.  "Will you show me the kitchen?  I don't know my way through
+these lordly fastnesses!"
+
+They went out of the room together, while Pat called out an eager,
+"Don't be long!"
+
+It was only a step into the tiny kitchen.  In another moment Stephen and
+Pixie stood within its portals, and she had closed the door behind with
+a careful hand.  Her face had sobered, and there was an anxious furrow
+in her forehead.
+
+"He looks _ill_!" she said breathlessly.  "Worse than I expected.  He
+said he was getting well.  Please tell me honestly--Is it _true_?"
+
+"Perfectly true in one sense.  The knee is doing well, but his general
+health has suffered.  He has been lonely and underfed, and at the first
+there was considerable pain.  I did my best to make him write to you
+before, for he is not fit to be left alone.  That servant is lazy and
+inefficient."
+
+Pixie glanced round the untidy room with her nose tilted high.
+
+"'Twill be a healthful shock for her to come back and find a mistress in
+possession.  We'll have a heart to heart talk to-morrow morning," she
+announced, with so quaint an assumption of severity that Stephen was
+obliged to laugh.  She laughed with him, struggling out of her coat, and
+looking round daintily for a place to lay it.
+
+"That nail on the door!  There's not a clean spot.  Now for the kettle!
+You fill it, while I rummage.  What's the most unlikely place for the
+tea?  It will be there.  She's the sort of muddler who'd leave it loose
+among the potatoes."
+
+"It's in the caddy.  The brown box on the dresser.  I've found it
+before."
+
+"The caddy!"  Pixie looked quite annoyed at so obvious a find.  "Oh, so
+it is.  Where's the butter then, and the bread, and the sugar?  Where's
+the spoons?  Where does she put the cloths?  Rake out that bottom bar to
+make a draught.  Does he get feverish at nights?  It's a mercy I brought
+a cake, for I don't believe there's a _thing_.  Does he take it strong?"
+
+She was bustling about as she spoke, opening and shutting drawers,
+standing on tip-toe to peer over kitchen shelves, lifting the lids of
+dishes upon the dresser.  One question succeeded fast upon another, but
+she did not trouble herself to wait for a reply, and Stephen, watching
+with a flickering smile, was quite nonplussed when at last she paused,
+as if expectant of an answer.
+
+"What strong?"
+
+"_Tea_!  What else could it be?  We were talking of tea."
+
+"I beg your pardon.  So we were.  Yes, he does like it strong, and
+there's only one set of cups, white with a gold rim.  There were two
+left the other day, but it's quite possible they have disappeared.  She
+is a champion breaker."
+
+"We'll have tumblers then," Pixie said briskly.  "The nicest tea I ever
+had was at a seaside inn where we made it ourselves in a bedroom to save
+the expense.  Oh, _here_ they are, and here's the milk.  Now we shan't
+be long!"  Then suddenly, standing before the cupboard door, and tilting
+her head over her shoulder, "_When did you hear from Stanor_?" she
+asked, in a still, altered voice which struck like a blow.
+
+Stephen Glynn gave no outward sign of surprise, yet that sudden question
+had sent racing half a dozen pulses, as voicing the words in his own
+mind.  "When did you hear from Stanor?  _What_ do you hear from Stanor?"
+The first sight of the girl's face had added intensity to the curiosity
+of years--a curiosity which within the last months had changed into
+anxiety.  He hesitated before answering the simple question.
+
+"He does not write often.  We had a good deal of correspondence when he
+decided to stay in New York the extra six months.  He seems to have
+acclimatised wonderfully, and to be absorbed in his work, unusually
+absorbed for his age."
+
+"But that is what you wanted.  You must be pleased about that," Pixie
+said quietly.  She was arranging the cups and saucers on the tray, but
+she looked at him as she spoke, a straight, sweet look, which yet held
+so much sadness that it cut like a knife.
+
+"Miss O'Shaughnessy," he cried impetuously, "can you forgive me?  I took
+too much upon myself.  I did it for the best, but--two years is too
+long.  One settles down.  It was a blow to me when he stayed on, for my
+own sake, and--"
+
+Pixie nodded gravely.
+
+"Yes.  We were both sorry.  We wanted of course to see him, but you
+should not blame him for loving his work.  You blamed him before because
+he was changeable; now he has done so well, you must be proud."  She
+smiled at him with determined cheerfulness.  "_I_ am proud.  And it is
+not as if it were making him ill.  He finds time to play.  Honor Ward
+often writes and she tells me--"
+
+"Miss Ward seems an adept at play," returned Stephen dryly.
+
+In truth, the lavishness of the entertainments which Honor had planned
+during the past two years had called the attention of even the English
+papers.  Pixie had read aloud descriptions thereof in the journals in
+the northern town where Captain Victor was still stationed, and Bridgie
+listening thereto had exclaimed in horror: "Special liveries for all the
+men-servants just for that one evening!  How wicked!  All that money for
+a few hours, when poor children are starving, and myself wanting a
+velvet coat..."
+
+At first Pixie had divined that Honor was trying to drown her sorrow in
+gaiety, and was even guilty of a girlish desire to "show off" before her
+former lover, but as the months grew into years it was impossible to
+read her letters and not realise that her enjoyment was real, not
+feigned, and that she had outgrown regret.  Yes, Honor was happy; and to
+judge from her accounts Stanor was happy too, able even in his busiest
+days to spare time to join the revels, and, indeed, to help in their
+organisation.
+
+"Miss Ward is an adept at play.  I don't approve of these gorgeous
+entertainments," said Stephen, and Pixie's eyes lightened with a
+mischievous flash.
+
+"Seems to me you are never satisfied!  Now for myself nothing could be
+gorgeous enough!"  She held out a brown teapot with a broken spout.
+"The water's boiling.  Pour it in please, and don't splash!  I'll carry
+it right in, for Pat is impatient.  We mustn't keep him waiting."  She
+waited until the pot was safely on the tray, and then added a warning:
+"Please don't talk about--things--before Pat.  He'd worry, but I'd like
+your advice.  Another time, perhaps, when we are alone."  Her eyes met
+his, gravely beseeching, and he looked searchingly back.
+
+Yes, she had suffered.  It was no longer the face of a light-hearted
+child.  Loyal as ever, Pixie would not listen to a word against her
+friend, but what secret was she hiding in her heart?
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY.
+
+STEPHEN IS ANSWERED.
+
+For three days after Pixie's arrival Stephen Glynn absented himself from
+the flat, and on the fourth day found a stormy, welcome awaiting him.
+
+"Ah, Glynn, is that you?" drawled Pat coldly.  "Hope you haven't
+inconvenienced yourself, don't you know.  After so many _duty_ visits
+you are evidently thankful to be rid of me.  _Pray_ don't put yourself
+out any more on my account."
+
+Stephen shook hands with Pixie and seated himself beside the bed with
+undaunted composure.
+
+"Rubbish, old fellow!  And you know it.  If you have enjoyed my visits,
+so have I.  But of course now that Miss O'Shaughnessy--"
+
+"If it's myself that's the obstacle I can stay in my room, but if you've
+any pity on me, _come_!" interrupted Pixie.  "My life's not worth living
+towards the end of the afternoon when Pat is watching the clock, and
+fidgeting for the ring of the bell.  I'm only his sister, you see, and
+he wants a _man_!  I'll stay out of the room if you'd rather; though I'm
+not saying," she concluded demurely, "that I wouldn't be glad of a
+change of society myself!"
+
+"It's horribly dull for the poor girl!  She doesn't like to leave me,
+and I don't like her going about alone.  You might take her about a bit,
+Glynn, if you weren't so neglectful and unfriendly!  To-morrow's Sunday,
+and she's dying to go to the Abbey..."
+
+"May I have the pleasure, Miss O'Shaughnessy?" cried Stephen promptly,
+and Pixie wrinkled her nose and said--
+
+"You couldn't say anything else but yes, but I'll not spite myself just
+for the sake of seeming proud.  Come and take me, and come back to
+lunch.  You'll get a good one.  I've made some changes in this
+establishment."
+
+"She telegraphed to the Hilliards' housekeeper, and she sent off a
+kitchen-maid--a broth of a girl who romps through the work.  And cooks--
+You wait and see!  I lie and dream of the next meal!"  Pat chuckled,
+with restored equanimity.  "But if I _am_ living in the lap of luxury
+_I'm_ not going to be chucked by you, old fellow," he added.  "The more
+one has the more one wants.  I've grown to count on your afternoon
+visit, and it upsets me to go without.  My temperature has gone up every
+night from sheer aggravation.  Isn't that true now, Pixie?"
+
+"More blame to, you!" said Pixie.  But her eyes met Stephen's with an
+anxiety which was not in keeping with her tone, and, in truth, after
+four days' absence the face on the pillow appeared to the onlooker,
+woefully drawn and white, Stephen registered a vow that Pat's
+temperature should not rise again through any neglect of his own.
+
+"All right, Pat," he said.  "I'll come as usual, and if it's
+inconvenient you can turn me out; and if Miss O'Shaughnessy will accept
+me for an escort I'll be proud to take her about.  We'll begin with the
+Abbey to-morrow."
+
+"That's all right; I thought you would.  What's the good of a
+prospective uncle if he can't make himself useful!"
+
+It was the first time Pat had made any reference to Stanor Vaughan, for,
+like the rest of the family, his pride had been stung by the
+non-appearance of Pixie's love, at the expiration of the prescribed two
+years.  Pat knew that occasional letters passed between the young
+couple, and that the understanding between them appeared unbroken, but
+it was a poor sort of lover who would voluntarily add to the term of his
+exile.  During the four days which Pixie had spent in the flat, almost
+every subject under the sun had been discussed but the one which
+presumably lay nearest the girl's heart, and that had been consistently
+shunned.  It was only a desire to justify a claim on his friend's
+services which had driven Pat to refer to the subject now, and he
+sincerely wished he had remained silent as he noted the effect of his
+words.  Stephen and Pixie stared steadily into space.  Neither spoke,
+neither smiled; their fixed, blank eyes appeared to give the impression
+that they had not heard his words.  In another moment the silence would
+have become embarrassing had not Pixie rung the bell and given an order
+for tea.
+
+"Is this your first experience of living in a flat, Miss O'Shaughnessy?
+How do you like it, as far as you've got?"  Stephen asked, with a
+valiant resolve to second Pixie's efforts, and she turned her face
+towards him, slightly flushed, but frank and candid as ever.
+
+"I love it--it's so social!  You know everyone's business as well as
+your own.  The floors are _supposed_ to be sound-proof, but really
+they're so many sounding-boards.  The couple above had a quarrel last
+night--at the high points we could hear every word.  It was as good as a
+theatre, though, of course--" she lengthened her face with a pretence of
+gravity--"'twas very sad!  But they've made it up to-day, because she's
+singing.  She has one song that she sings a dozen times every day ...
+something about parting from a lover.  Pat says she's been at it for
+months past--`_Since_ we parted _yester_ eve.' ...  She feels it, poor
+creature!  I suggested to Pat that we might board him, so that he might
+always be on the spot, and she wouldn't have to part.  He says it would
+be worth the money. ...  The lady below sings `Come back to Erin' by the
+hour.  She's _always_ singing it!  We thought of sending a polite note
+to say that we had given her request every consideration, but that owing
+to the unsettled condition of politics in that country we really did not
+see our way to move. ...  And they have anthracite stoves."
+
+"Why shouldn't they?"  Stephen asked.  He had greeted Pixie's
+description with the delight of one who finds a painful situation
+suddenly irradiated by humour, but the anthracite stoves conveyed no
+meaning.  "Why shouldn't they, if they choose?"
+
+Pixie scowled disapproval.
+
+"_So_ selfish!  Noise like earthquakes every time they rake.  I wake
+every morning thinking I'm dead.  This morning I counted sixty separate
+rakes!  Now, here's a problem for you, Mr Glynn--How can you avenge
+yourself on an upstairs flatter?  If it's below: it's quite easy--you
+just bang with the poker; but how can you do that on your own ceiling?
+'Tis no consolation to break the plaster!"
+
+The tea was carried in as she spoke, and she rose to seat herself at the
+table, giving a friendly smile at the trim maid who had replaced the
+arrant "housekeeper."
+
+"Hot scones, Moffatt?  You _do_ spoil us!" she said cordially, and the
+girl left the room abeam with content.
+
+"She adores me--all maids do," announced Pixie, with her complacent air
+well to the fore.  "It's the way I treat them.  My sister, now--Bridgie
+Victor--she's a coward with her maids.  She lies awake half the night
+rehearsing the best ways of hinting that she'd prefer pastry lighter
+than lead, after begging us all as a personal favour to eat it in case
+cook should be hurt.  When I have a house--" She stopped short and
+busied herself with her duties, and neither of her listeners questioned
+her further on the subject.
+
+Tea was a merry meal, and Pat consumed the dainty fare with undisguised
+enjoyment.
+
+"That's the pull of an accident," he declared, as he helped himself to a
+third scone, "_ye can eat_!  It's awful to think of poor beggars on a
+diet. ...  Let's have muffins to-morrow, Pixie, _swimming_ with butter.
+Glynn's coming!"
+
+"Don't tempt me!  I am coming to lunch, but you won't want me to stay
+on."
+
+"Rubbish!  We _do_.  Stay for the whole day, and Pixie shall sing to us.
+It's the least she can do, if you take her to church."
+
+Stephen looked at his hostess with a glance curiously compounded of
+dread and expectation.  Music was the passion of his life, so true a
+passion that it was torture to him to hear the travesties which passed
+under its name.  Bearing in mind the very small proportion of girls who
+could really sing, he wished that the proposal had never been made,
+since the result would probably mean a jarring episode in a delightful
+day.
+
+"But you have no piano," he said uncertainly.  "How can--"
+
+"It's not a piano would stop me, if I wanted to sing.  I don't need an
+accompaniment," Pixie declared, and Stephen shuddered in spirit.
+Unaccompanied songs were terrible ordeals to the listeners.  Eyes as
+well as ears were tortured.  One never knew where to look!  He pondered
+as he drank his tea how the situation could be ameliorated, if not
+escaped, and reminded himself thankfully that if necessary he could hire
+a piano and send it in.  Then, looking up, he met Pat's eyes fixed upon
+him with a quizzical smile.  Pat showed at times an uncomfortable
+faculty for, reading his friends' thoughts, and Stephen realised that it
+was in force at this minute, and was thankful that at least it did not
+find vent in words.  Pixie's happy complacence about her own powers was
+so far removed from ordinary conceit that he dreaded to wound it.  He
+therefore hastily changed the conversation, and avoided the subject of
+music for the rest of his call.
+
+The next morning, after arranging for Pat's comfort, Pixie retired to
+her eerie, and spent what appeared to the invalid an unconscionably long
+time over her toilette.  After the cheerful manner of flats, by slightly
+raising the voice it was easy to carry on a conversation with a person
+in an adjoining room, and Pat therefore favoured his sister with a
+statement that he "expected to see something pretty fetching, after all
+this time!"  "Ha!  Ha!" cried Pixie in return, and her voice gave no
+hint of modesty.  Nevertheless, and for all his expectations, Pat gave a
+gasp of surprise when a few minutes later she sailed into the room.
+
+She wore a coat and skirt of a soft, mouse-coloured velvet, very quiet
+and nondescript in hue, and the hat, with its curling brim, was covered
+with the same material.  So far, very douce and quiet; but entirely
+round the hat, and curling gracefully over one side, was a magnificent
+ostrich plume, which was plainly the pride of its owner's heart.  She
+tossed her head in answer to Pat's uplifted hands, pirouetted round and
+round, and struck a telling attitude.
+
+"Yes!  _Ain't_ I smart?  Me dear, regard the feather!  I've longed for
+years to possess a scrumptious feather, and have talked by the hour,
+trying to convince Bridgie it was economical in the end.  But she
+wouldn't.  She said 'twas expensive at the start, and she couldn't see
+any further.  Sometimes she _is_ dense.  She can't help it, poor
+creature, living with Dick!  However, Esmeralda did, and she bought it
+in Paris to match my coat.  It measures a yard, loved one!  And _isn't_
+it kind of it to turn blue at the end?  That little touch of blue just
+behind my ear _does_ set me off!  Honest Indian, Patrick!  If you didn't
+know better, and came suddenly into the room, wouldn't you think I was a
+pretty girl?"
+
+"I should!" answered Pat; but a moment later he added, with true
+brotherly candour, "But you're not."
+
+"All the more credit to me!" retorted Pixie glibly.  She lifted a chair
+which stood at the left of the fireplace, carried it to a similar
+position on the right, and seated herself upon it.  "This side's the
+best.--I must sit here, and let Mr Glynn see my splendour in full
+blast.  Won't he be pleased?"
+
+"He'll never notice.  Glynn's above hats," Pat maintained; but,
+nevertheless, he could not take his own eyes off the dainty grey figure,
+with the piquant face smiling beneath the brim of the wide hat, and that
+fascinating little tip of blue ending the long, grey plume.  His
+admiration showed in his eyes, but he felt it his duty to be bracing in
+words.
+
+"I never thought I should live to see _you_ conceited about clothes!"
+
+"Ye _do_ get these shocks in life.  It's a sad old world!" answered
+Pixie, and grimaced at him saucily, as she buttoned her glove.
+
+And, after all, Stephen Glynn never did notice the feather.  For a
+ten-pound note he could not have described the next day a single article
+of Pixie's attire.  He was aware, however, it was pleasant to walk about
+with Pixie O'Shaughnessy, and that passers-by seemed to envy him his
+post, and he was relieved that she was disfigured by none of the
+extremes of an ugly fashion; and, after all, nine men out of ten rarely
+get beyond this point.
+
+They sallied forth together, bidding Pat sleep all morning so as to be
+ready to talk all afternoon, and descended the gaunt stone stairs to the
+hall.
+
+They walked quietly, but with enjoyment in each other's company.  The
+usual crowd blocked the Abbey door, and Stephen and Pixie stood waiting
+under the statue of the "third great Canning" for some time, before at
+last they were escorted to seats in the nave.  The sermon,
+unfortunately, they could not hear, but the exquisite service was to
+both a deep delight.  Remembering the conversation of the night before,
+Stephen dreaded lest Pixie should be one of the mistaken ones who sing
+persistently through an elaborate choral service, thereby nullifying its
+effect for those around.  He was thankful to find that his fears were
+unnecessary, but once or twice in an unusually beautiful refrain he
+imagined that his ear caught the sound of a deep, rich note--a soft echo
+of the strain itself, evoked by an irresistible impulse.  He looked
+inquiringly at his companion, but her head was bent and the brim of her
+hat concealed her face.  Her stillness, her reverence appealed to his
+heart, for it was easy to see that she was enjoying the music not as a
+mere concert, but, above all things, as an accompaniment to the words
+themselves.  One time, when he glanced at her as she rose from her
+knees, he surprised a glimmer of tears in her _eyes_, and the sight
+brought a stab to his heart.  Why should she cry?  What was the reason
+of the air of repression and strain which from time to time flitted
+across her face?  If it were Stanor's doing. ...  Stephen frowned, and
+resolutely turned his attention to the service.
+
+They came out of the Abbey to the majestic strains of the organ--out of
+the dim, blurred light shining shaft-like across the glowing mosaic of
+gold, and marble, and great jewelled windows, into the hard, everyday
+world.  The pavements were crowded with pedestrians hurrying here and
+there; restaurants had opened their doors, tobacco merchants and
+newspaper vendors were hard at work, and country-bred Pixie stared
+around in amazed disapproval.  They crossed the crowded thoroughfares
+and, led by Stephen, found quiet byways in which it was possible to talk
+in comparative comfort alone.
+
+"It was better even than I expected, and that's saying so much!  It does
+one good to go to a service like that.  It's so _big_!"
+
+"The--the Abbey?" queried Stephen vaguely, and Pixie gave a quick
+denial.
+
+"No.  _No_!  Not only the building--everything!  There's an atmosphere
+of peace, and dignity, and calm.  One gets away from littleness and
+quarrelling.  It's so sad when people quarrel about religion, and one
+sect disputes with another..."
+
+"It is indeed," replied Stephen, sighing.  "The chances of conciliation
+would be so much greater if they fought with honey, not with gall. ...
+The world needs kindness--"
+
+"Oh, it does!  There is such sorrow, such pain!"  Pixie's voice rang
+suddenly sharp, and a wave of emotion flitted over her face.  She raised
+her eyes to his, and said suddenly, in a voice of melting pathos: "_Her
+face_! ...  That girl's face!  All these years I've never forgotten. ...
+It's lain _here_!"  She touched her heart with an eloquent finger.
+"All these years--every night--I've prayed that they might meet..."  She
+shook her head with a determined gesture, as though shaking off a
+haunting thought.  "I couldn't forget, you see, because--it taught me
+... things I had not understood--!"
+
+"Yes," said Stephen dully.  For his life he could not have said another
+word.  He waited with dread to hear the next words.
+
+"But it was _worth_ learning!"  Pixie said bravely.  "I was glad to
+learn.  Love is such a big, big thing.  When it is given to you it's a
+big responsibility.  You must not fail; nothing in the world must make
+you fail!"
+
+Stephen said no word.  The questions which had filled his brain for the
+last five days were answered now.  There was no more room for doubt.
+Pixie O'Shaughnessy was ready and waiting to marry Stanor Vaughan at any
+time when it pleased him to come home and claim her promise.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.
+
+A MUSICAL EVENING.
+
+Pixie had recovered her spirits by the time that the flat was reached,
+but the invalid was discovered in a distinctly "grumpy" mood.  Like many
+enforced stay-at-homes, his unselfishness bore him gallantly over the
+point of speeding the parting guests, and expressing sincere good wishes
+for their enjoyment.  But the long, long hours spent alone, the contrast
+between their lot and his own, the rebellious longing to be up and
+doing, all these foes preyed upon the mind, and by the time that the
+voyagers returned, a cool, martyr-like greeting replaced the kindliness
+of the farewell, which was sad, and selfish, and unworthy, but let those
+suspend their judgment who have never been tried!
+
+"Really?  Oh!  _Quite_ well, thank you.  Did you really?" ...  The cold,
+clipped sentences fell like ice on the listeners' ears, and Pixie, going
+out of the room, turned a swift glance at Stephen Glynn, and wrinkled
+her nose in an expressive grimace.  Somehow or other Stephen felt his
+spirits racing upward at sight of that grimace.  There was a suggestion
+of intimacy about it, amounting even to confidence: it denoted a
+_camaraderie_ of spirit which was as flattering as it was delightful.
+
+Pat, as usual, recovered his good humour at the sight of food, and
+thoroughly enjoyed the simple but well-cooked meal, while Pixie and
+Stephen tactfully avoided the subject of their morning's excursion.
+Time enough later on to describe the beauties of that Abbey service!
+
+"Moffatt is going out this afternoon.  A friend is to call for her and
+bring her back this evening.  It will be a change for the creature,"
+announced Pixie when the meal was finished, and, meeting Pat's eye, she
+added quickly, "I'll make tea."
+
+"What about supper?" queried Pat sternly.  "If there's a meal in the
+week which I enjoy better than another it is Sunday night supper.
+What's going to happen about it to-night?"
+
+"'Deed I don't know.  Don't fuss!  It's beyond me to think two meals
+ahead.  There's cold meat. ...  I'll rummage up something when it comes
+to the time."
+
+Pat turned gloomily to his friend.
+
+"_You'd_ better be off, Glynn.  I asked you to stay for the day, but in
+view of unforeseen circumstances. ...  Pixie evidently puts Moffatt's
+pleasure before our food."
+
+"_I do_!" cried Pixie sturdily.
+
+Stephen smiled, his bright, transforming smile, and said quickly--
+
+"I'll stay!  I'd like to, if you will just excuse me one moment while I
+telephone to my man.  You have a telephone, I think, in the basement?"
+
+Pixie shuddered.
+
+"They have; in an ice-box, where every draught that was ever born whirls
+around your feet, and if you speak loud enough, every maid in the place
+will hear what you say.  It's quite diverting to listen!"
+
+Stephen went off laughing, and Pixie shook up Pat's pillows, bathed his
+hands, and kissed him several times on the tip of his nose, a proceeding
+which he considered offensive to his dignity, and then went off to
+change the crushable velvet skirt for a house dress of her favourite
+rose hue--a quaint little garment made in a picturesque style, which had
+no connection whatever with the prevailing fashion.  When she returned
+to the sitting-room she seated herself on the floor beside the fire, and
+Pat, now entirely restored to equanimity and a little ashamed of his
+previous ill-humour, himself inquired about the morning's experiences.
+Like all the O'Shaughnessys he was intensely musical, and during his
+sojourn in London had taken every opportunity to hear all the good
+concerts within reach.  He now wanted to hear about the music in the
+Abbey, and especially of the anthem, and at the mention of it Pixie drew
+a deep sigh of enjoyment.
+
+"Oh, Pat, a boy sang `Oh, for the wings'!  If you could have heard it!--
+A clear, clear voice, so thrillingly sweet, soaring away up to that
+wonderful roof.  And he sang with such feeling." ...  She began softly
+humming the air, and Stephen knew then for a certainty whence had come
+those rich, soft notes which had come to his ears in the Abbey.
+
+"Sing it, Pixie, sing it!" cried Pat impatiently.  "You promised, and
+it's one of my favourites.  Go on; I'll accompany!"
+
+Stephen looked round inquiringly.  No piano was in the room, no musical
+instrument of any kind, and Pat lay helpless upon his bed.  How, then,
+could he accompany?  The O'Shaughnessy ingenuity had, however, overcome
+greater difficulties than this, and it was not the first time by many
+that Pat had hummed an effective and harmonious background to his
+sister's songs.  As for Pixie, she opened her mouth and began to sing as
+simply and naturally as a bird.  She had a lovely voice, mezzo-soprano
+in range, and though she now kept it sweetly subdued, the hearer
+realised that it had also considerable power.  She sang as all true
+singers do--as if the action gave to herself the purest joy, her head
+tilted slightly on one side, as if to listen more intently to each
+clear, sweet note as it fell from her lips. ...  "_Oh, for the wings,
+for the wings of a dove; far away, far away would I roam_." ...  The
+words blotted out for the hearers the gathering twilight in the prosaic
+little room; far away, far away soared their thoughts to heights lofty
+and beautiful.  "_In the wilderness build me a nest, and remain there
+for ever at rest_." ...  How had so young a thing learnt to put so
+wonderful a meaning into that last word?  Pat's rolling accompaniment
+swelled and sank; now and again for a phrase he softly joined in the
+words, and in the concluding phrase still another voice joined in in a
+soft tenor note agreeable to hear.
+
+Pixie's eyes met Stephen's with a glow of triumph.  "He _sings_!" she
+cried quickly.  "Pat, he sings--pure tenor!  Oh, what music we can have,
+what trios!  Isn't it delightful?  You can have real concerts now, old
+man, without leaving the flat!"
+
+"It was a very beautiful solo, Miss O'Shaughnessy," said Stephen
+gravely.  He was still too much under the influence of the strain to
+think of future events.  As long as he lived he would remember to-day's
+experience, and see before him the picture of Pixie O'Shaughnessy in her
+rose frock, with the firelight shining on her face.  Her unconsciousness
+had added largely to the charm of the moment, but now that the tension
+was relaxed there was a distinct air of complacence in her reply.
+
+"'Tis a gift; we all have it.  The concerts we had at Knock, and every
+one playing a separate instrument, with not a thing to help us but our
+own hands!  I was the flute.  D'ye remember, Pat, the way I whistled a
+flute till ye all stopped to listen to me?"
+
+"I do not," said Pat.  "I was the 'cello myself, fiddling with a ruler
+on me own knees, double pedalling with _two_ knees!  I had no thought
+for flutes.  Ye made the most noise, I'll say that for ye!"
+
+As usual in any discussion, brother and sister fell back to the brogue
+of their youth, which time and absence had softened to just an agreeable
+hint of an Irish accent.  Stephen smiled with amusement, and expressed a
+wish to hear the exhibition on another day.
+
+"But do sing us something else now," he said; "something worthy to come
+after `The Wings.'"
+
+And for the next hour, while the light waned till they could no longer
+see one another across the room, Pixie sang one beautiful strain after
+another, always in the same soft, restrained voice, which could neither
+disturb the neighbours above or below, nor be too strong for the size of
+the little room.  It was not show singing--rather was it a series of
+"tryings over," prefaced by "Oh, do you know this?" or "Don't you love
+that bit?" so that each man felt at liberty to join in as the impulse
+took him, till at times all three were singing together.
+
+The hours sped by with wonderful quickness, and when tea-time arrived
+Stephen insisted upon his right to help his hostess to clear away the
+meal, and when they returned to the sitting-room, lo!  Pat had fallen
+asleep, and there was nothing to do for it but to return to the kitchen,
+now immaculately clean and neat under the rule of the admirable Moffatt.
+
+"We might as well begin to think about supper, and forage around," Pixie
+suggested, but Stephen echoed her own dislike of thinking of meals too
+far ahead, and pled for delay.
+
+"It's rather a strain to sit and look at cold meat for a solid hour at a
+stretch, don't you think?" he asked persuasively.  "It would spoil my
+appetite.  Can't we just--be quiet?"
+
+"You can," was Pixie's candid answer; "I'm going to write!  I've the
+greediest family for letters; do as I will, there's never a time when
+somebody isn't grumbling!  Never mind me, if you want to smoke; I
+approve of men smoking, it keeps them quiet.  Can I get you a book?"
+
+Stephen shook his head.  Pat's library did not appeal to his more
+literary taste, and he announced himself content without further
+employment.
+
+"Oh, well then, _talk_!  It won't disturb me," said Pixie easily; "I'll
+just listen or not, according as it's interesting.  I'm accustomed to it
+with Bridgie.  If you want to set her tongue going, just sit down and
+begin to write..."
+
+Stephen, however, had no intention of taking advantage of the
+permission.  He was abundantly content to sit in his comfortable chair,
+enjoy his novel surroundings (how very cheerful and attractive a _clean_
+kitchen could be!) smoke his cigarette, and watch Pixie scribbling at
+fever pace over innumerable pages of notepaper.  There were frequent
+snatches of conversation, but invariably it was Pixie herself who led
+the way.
+
+"D'you illustrate your letters when you write them?" she asked at one
+time.  "I always do!  Realistic, you know, and saves time.  At this
+present moment--" she drew back from the table, screwing up one eye, and
+holding aloft her pen in truly professional fashion--"I'm drawing
+_You_!"
+
+"May I see?"
+
+"You may. ...  It's not _quite_ right about the chair legs, they get so
+mixed up.  Perspective never was my strong point," said Pixie, holding
+out a sheet and pointing to the masterpiece in question with the end of
+her pen.  "There!"
+
+Stephen looked and beheld a rough drawing of a preternaturally thin man,
+with preternatural large eyes, holding a cigarette in a hand joined to
+an arm which had evidently suffered severe dislocation.  It was the type
+of drawing affected by schoolboys and girls, yet it had a distinct
+cleverness of its own.  Despite the cart-wheel eyes and the skeleton
+frame there _was_ a resemblance--there was more than a resemblance, it
+was actually _like_, and Stephen acclaimed the fact by a shout of
+laughter.
+
+"I say!  Could I have it?  It's uncommonly good!"
+
+Pixie shook her head.
+
+"It's for Bridgie.--Ye notice the mouth?  Did you know it twisted when
+you thought?  Aren't they _nice_, narrow boots?  I'll do one for you
+another day. ...  Turn over the page!  There's another of Pat, as he
+will look at the supper to-night."
+
+The second drawing was even rougher than the first, but again the
+faculty for hitting off a likeness was displayed, for Pat, reclining on
+a bed sloping at a perilous angle towards the floor, gazed at a fragment
+of mutton-bone with drooping lids and peaking brows, which represented
+so precisely his expression when injured, that Stephen shouted once
+again.
+
+"_Succes fou_!" commented Pixie jauntily, as she settled herself once
+more to her work.  "Quite a gift, haven't I?  Couldn't do pretties to
+save my life, but I _can_ caricature!  Now, please, _do_ be quiet!  I
+must get on..."
+
+Half an hour later a loud rapping on the wall announced the awakening of
+the invalid, who was once more discovered in a fractious mood.
+
+"Asleep!  Nonsense!  For two minutes, perhaps.  How d'you suppose _any_
+fellow could sleep, with you two shrieking with laughter every two
+minutes!  If you choose to keep your jokes to yourself, all right, it's
+nothing to me; but it's half-past seven. ...  Where's supper?"
+
+Even as he spoke another rap sounded on the front door--a brisk,
+imperative rap which brooked no delay.  Pixie darted forward, imagining
+a surprise visit from the doctor, and found herself confronted by a man
+in black, standing sentinel over a hamper.
+
+"Mr O'Shaughnessy's flat, madam?  I have instructions from Mr Glynn--"
+
+"All right, Saunders, bring it in, bring it in!" cried Stephen quickly.
+He met Pixie's eyes, flushed, and stammered--
+
+"It's ... supper!" he said lamely.  "I telephoned.  It seemed a good
+plan, and I thought that, Pat.--Do you _mind_?"
+
+"_Mind_!" repeated Pixie, laughing.  "Faith I do!  I mind very much; but
+it's the right way about; it won't be cold mutton, after all!  I'll have
+to draw another picture."
+
+The man carried the hamper into the sitting-room, unpacked it deftly,
+and laid the contents on the table.  Soup, smoking hot from a thermos
+flask, chicken and salad, a shape of cream, and a fragrant pineapple.
+Pat's lips ceased to droop, his eyebrows to peak: his dark eyes lit with
+enjoyment.
+
+"Good old Glynn!" he cried.  "What a great idea!  Now let's begin, and
+eat right through..."
+
+As he took part in the happy meal which followed, Stephen Glynn
+reflected that generosity in giving went also with generosity in
+receiving.  Pat and his sister would cheerfully give away their last
+penny to a friend in need.  It never occurred to them to show less
+readiness to accept when it came to their own turn.  Never was a
+surprise more happily planned; never was a surprise more heartily
+enjoyed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
+
+HE LOVED HER.
+
+For the next week all went well.  Pat's improvement, though slow, was so
+sure that a definite date was named on which he should be allowed to
+take his first few steps.  The doctor grimaced to Pixie as he gave this
+promise, as if to insinuate that the experiment would not be pleasant,
+but Pat was prepared--in theory at least--for anything and everything,
+if thereby he might regain his freedom.
+
+Stephen Glynn paid daily visits to the flat, and, in addition, escorted
+Pixie to various "sights" of the great city, in which, to tell the
+honest truth, she showed but little interest.  Music was a passion with
+her, but of pictures she had no knowledge, and little appreciation.  The
+antiques in the National Gallery left her cold and bored, though she was
+full of interest in what seemed to her companion the most uninteresting
+men and women who were employed in copying the canvases.
+
+When with the frankness of criticism which he had learned from herself
+he rallied her on this inconsistency, Pixie's answer was
+characteristic--
+
+"One is dead, and the other's alive.  The most uninteresting live person
+means more to me than a world of pictures.  That girl in the grey dress
+had tears in her eyes. ...  Did you see?  She looks so poor.  Perhaps
+she wants to sell her copy, and no one will buy!  There was a man
+talking to the fat woman next to her as we passed through before.  He
+was writing something in his pocket-book.  I believe he was buying the
+picture, and the poor grey girl felt so sad.--If Esmeralda were here,
+I'd make her buy her copy, too."
+
+"It's a very _bad_ copy!"  Stephen pronounced.  Then he looked down at
+the girl, and the transforming smile lit up his face.  "All the same--
+would I do instead of `Esmeralda'?  I'll buy it at once, if you wish
+it!"
+
+The grey eyes brightened, beamed, then clouded with uncertainty.
+
+"Really?  Ought you?  Are you sure?  It may cost--"
+
+"That's my affair!  Leave that to me.  Would you like me to buy it?"
+
+"I would!" came back at once in the deepest tone of the eloquent Irish
+voice, and at that Stephen strode forward, his limp hardly observable on
+the wide, smooth floor, and came to a halt by the grey girl's side.
+
+Then followed what was to one spectator at least, a delightful scene.
+The surprise on the grey girl's face, the incredulity, the illimitable
+content, as the tall stranger made known his request, took out his
+pocket-book and handed her a card.  Emotional Pixie had the softness of
+tears in her own eyes as Stephen rejoined her, and they walked away
+together down the long room.
+
+"Well," he said smiling, "on your head be it!  Now she'll go on painting
+atrocities, and wasting good time, when she might be sweeping a floor!
+It's against my principles to encourage the desecration of art."
+
+"Why did you do it then?"  Pixie demanded heartlessly, but next moment
+she smiled a beautiful smile.  "_I know_!  Thank you!  Never mind about
+desecration.  Art can look after itself, and _she_ can't!  And even if
+that particular picture isn't beautiful, you have given me another that
+is, the picture of her happy face!  I think," she concluded slowly,
+"it's going to help me.--It will be a contrast to turn, to, when I
+see--_that other_!"  She sighed, as she invariably did, when referring
+to those moments on the Liverpool landing-stage, but she shook off the
+depression with a characteristic gesture, a defiant little shake not
+only of the head, but of the whole body, and cried briskly: "Now let's
+imagine what she does when she goes home with that cheque!"
+
+At home in the little flat, music made part of every day's programme.
+Pixie, seated on the hearthrug, would sing Irish ballads in a voice of
+crooning sweetness, she and Pat would join in duets, occasionally
+Stephen was persuaded to join in a trio, and presently, as the
+performers became "worked up" to their task, they would recall one by
+one performances of bygone days, and perform them afresh for the
+delectation of their visitor.  Pixie whistled a bird-like accompaniment
+to Pat's deep drone; Pat, retiring bashfully beneath a sheet, whistled
+in his turn not only an air, but actually at the same time an
+accompaniment thereto, a soprano and contralto combination of sounds, so
+marvellous to hear that he was compelled to repeat the performance
+unmasked, before Stephen would believe in its authenticity.  Fired by
+the success of their efforts, combs were then produced, and, swathed in
+paper, turned into wind instruments of wondrous amenability.  Surprising
+effect of a duet upon combs!  Again, when towards the end of the week
+the repertoire gave out, and "What shall we sing next?" to fail of an
+answer, Pixie revived another old "Knock" accomplishment, which was
+neither more nor less than impromptu recitatives and choruses.  A bass
+recitative by Pat, on the theme--"_And she went--to find some mat-ches.
+And there--were--none...  Tum-Tum_!" led the way to the liveliest of
+choruses, in which, goaded by outstretched fingers and flashing eyes,
+Stephen was forced to take his part.  "_There were none!--there were
+none_!" piped Pixie in the treble.  "_And she went--and she went_!"
+rumbled Pat in the bass.  "_Matches!  Matches_!" fell from Stephen's
+lips, on a repeated high tenor note.  Through ever-increasing
+intricacies and elaborations ran the chorus, until at last at a signal
+from the soprano it approached its close, the three singers proclaimed
+in unison that "_there--were--none_!" and promptly fell back in their
+seats in paroxysms of laughter.  In the course of the last twenty years,
+had he laughed as much as he had done within the last wonderful week?
+Stephen asked himself the question as he walked home the night after the
+singing of the "Matches" chorus, and there was little hesitation about
+the answer.
+
+A week, ten days of unshadowed happiness and companionship, and then a
+cloud arose.  Pat was not _well_; he grew worse; he grew seriously ill.
+The knee itself had done all that was expected of it, but the first
+attempt at walking, to which the poor fellow had looked forward as to a
+festival, proved in reality a painful and depressing experience.  Back
+in his bed, limp with pain and exhaustion, poor Pat realised his own
+weakness with a poignancy of disappointment.  He had expected to be able
+to walk at once, though not perhaps for any length of time, and these
+few stumbling steps had been a bitter revelation.  All these weeks of
+confinement and suffering, and now a long and dragging convalescence!
+Pat's heart swelled with bitterness and rebellion.  Despite the presence
+of Pixie and the constant visits of his friend, he was sick, sick to
+death of the one small room, and the monotonous indoor life, and as a
+young man successfully started in a young business, he longed with
+ardour to get back to his work.
+
+The world looked very black to Pat O'Shaughnessy for the rest of that
+day, and atmospheric conditions did not help to cheer him.  It was
+raining, a slow, relentless rain, and in the air for days past had been
+a rawness, a chill which crept to the very bone.  Pixie drew the
+curtains over every chink, and hung a shawl over the end of Pat's bed to
+still further screen him from draughts, but Pat was not in the mood to
+be coddled, and had that shawl whisked to the ground before one could
+say Jack Robinson.  He was curt and silent in his manner, and--rare and
+significant sign!--partook of a fragmentary tea.  Nothing was right;
+everything was wrong; his patience was exhausted, and though he remained
+studiously polite to his friend, with his sister he unrestrainedly "let
+himself go."
+
+"Don't wriggle, Pixie! ...  Don't shout!--Don't tell us that story all
+over again. ...  Don't lean against my bed. ...  Don't sit between me
+and the fire!" so on it went all through the afternoon, which as a rule
+was so cheery and peaceful, and if Pixie preserved a placid composure,
+Stephen Glynn was far from following her example.  He relapsed into a
+frigid silence, which added but another element to the general
+discomfort.
+
+The final stroke came when Pixie lifted the despised shawl and attempted
+to wrap it round Pat's shoulders, and was rudely repulsed, and told to
+mind her own business and not be a fool.  Then, with his air of _grand
+seigneur_, Stephen Glynn rose from his chair and made his adieux.  Cold
+as crystal was his manner as he extended his hand to the invalid on his
+bed, and Pixie followed him on to the little landing, apologetic and
+miserable.
+
+"You are going so soon?  If you could stay and talk hard it might divert
+him from himself.  He _needs_ diverting!"
+
+"I cannot," Stephen declared.  "It's beyond me.  After all you have
+done--after all your care, to speak to you so rudely!--"
+
+He had passed through the front door of the flat, and Pixie stood within
+the threshold, her hand clasping the handle of the door, her face, tired
+and strained, raised to his own.
+
+"He didn't!" she cried quickly.  "Oh, he didn't.  It wasn't Pat who
+spoke--it was the pain, the pain, and the tiredness and the
+disappointment.  They force out the words.  Haven't you found that
+yourself?  But his heart doesn't mean them.  He's all raw and hurting,
+and I worried him. ...  I shouldn't have done it!  You must be angry
+with me, not with Pat."
+
+Stephen gave her a long, strange look.
+
+"I think I--" he began, and stopped short suddenly.
+
+"What?" queried Pixie, and there was a long pause.
+
+"I--don't know!" he answered dreamily then, and without a word of
+farewell turned away and descended the steps.
+
+But he did know.  In the moment in which he had stood facing her while
+she pled her brother's cause, the secret of his own heart was revealed.
+Never under any circumstances could he be angry with Pixie
+O'Shaughnessy.  He loved her; she was for him the one woman in the
+world; with all the stored-up love of his empty life he loved her, and
+longed for her for his own.  That was the reason of his happiness during
+the past days, of the extraordinary new zest and interest in life which
+had filled his mind; of his content in Pixie's contentment, his anxiety
+for her anxiety, his furious resentment when she was abused.  And he
+loved her.  He loved her when she lapsed into her Irish brogue, and said
+"Me dear"; he loved her when she assumed Frenchified airs, struck
+attitudes, and cried "_Ma foi_!" he loved her when she was sad, when she
+was glad, when she was youthful and mischievous, when she was serious
+and old, when she walked beside him in the street in the hat with the
+curling feather, when she sat on the hearthrug in her rose-hued dress
+crooning songs in her soft, sweet voice.  Always, and always, he loved
+her; she had crept into his heart like a ray of sunshine lighting up
+unused rooms; she had melted his coldness, as the south wind melts the
+frost.  He loved Pixie, and Pixie was going to marry Stanor Vaughan...
+
+Stephen Glynn stepped shuddering into the clammy street, and away up on
+the fifth floor landing Pixie still stood motionless, holding the handle
+of that open door, repeating to herself dreamily that he would come
+back, he must come back!  He had never said good-bye!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.
+
+COMPLICATIONS.
+
+On the following afternoon Stephen Glynn failed to pay his daily visit
+to the flat.  After the revelation of the night before he had neither
+the strength nor the courage to encounter Pixie anew.  Little use to
+shut the stable door after the steed had flown, but he must at least
+have time to think, to face the future, and decide upon his own course.
+And then at seven o'clock came the ring of the telephone, and Pixie's
+voice speaking piteously in his ear--
+
+"Is it you?  You yourself?  Oh, why didn't you come?  I was waiting for
+you.  I wanted you.  Pat's ill!  He's ill, and he won't let me send for
+the doctor.  Oh, do come round!"
+
+"I'm coming!"  Stephen said, and hung up the receiver.  Pixie wanted
+him, that settled the matter.  In half an hour's time his car stopped
+before the entrance to the flat, and the chauffeur was bidden to wait
+for further orders, while his master mounted the long flights of steps.
+
+Pixie was seated beside the fire, and the glance of her eyes spoke of a
+warning which he was quick to understand.  Pat was not to suspect that
+his friend had been summoned on his behalf.  He turned towards the bed,
+and said lightly--
+
+"Sorry to be late, old man.  How goes it?  Tried the walking again?"
+
+"This morning.  Yes.  But--" Pat shrugged wearily--"not since.  Got a
+head--"
+
+Stephen looked at him critically.  Bright eyes, flushed cheeks,
+shortened breath, all the danger signals to the fore.
+
+"Bit feverish, old man, that's the trouble!  Exerting yourself too much
+perhaps.  Good thing I didn't come to tire you further.  Get that doctor
+fellow to give you something to cool you down, and give you a good
+night's rest, and the little cherub will wake up bright as a button."
+
+"Shan't!"  Pat cried.  "No more doctors!  Sick of the sight of doctors!
+What have doctors done for _me_?  Chained here all these weeks, and
+worse at the end!  I can look after myself."
+
+"Taken your temperature by any chance?"
+
+"What's the good?  Don't _you_ start worrying, Glynn!  I've had enough
+of it from Pixie.  I'm not going to be worried with temperatures."
+
+"Don't behave like a child, O'Shaughnessy.  No one wants to worry you
+with doctors if it can be helped.  I don't wonder you are tired of them,
+but you can't run risks.  Take your temperature like a sensible fellow,
+and if it's under a hundred, I'll leave you in peace.  Otherwise I go
+downstairs this minute and telephone for Braithey.  Where's the
+thermometer, Miss O'Shaughnessy?  Now then, in with it!"
+
+Pat scowled, but submitted.  The glass tube was held between set lips,
+and a silence ensued which Stephen made no effort to break.  Pixie
+waited expectantly for him to join her, but he kept his position by the
+bed, without so much as turning his head in her direction.  And upon
+entering he had avoided her glance, had dropped her hand after the most
+perfunctory, clasp, and last night he had gone away without even saying
+good-night. ...  She had offended him: certainly she must have offended
+him, Pixie told herself, though _how_ she was unable to think.  She
+stared into the fire, feeling tired, and sad, and discouraged.
+
+"Three minutes.  Yes, that's enough.  Let me see!  I'm getting quite
+clever with these puzzling things.  Ye-es!"  With a deft jerk of his
+wrist Stephen shook the thermometer, and returned it to it's case.
+"Slightly up!  No escape for it, Pat.  Braithey must come!"
+
+"I won't see him.  I won't see him if he comes!  Look here, Glynn, it's
+my affair!  Leave me alone, there's a good fellow!  I can look after
+myself..."
+
+Stephen walked steadily to the door.
+
+"I'll take good care you don't.  That's enough, Patrick, don't waste
+your strength!  I'm going downstairs to telephone, and if Braithey's at
+home my car shall bring him round.  It's waiting outside."
+
+He disappeared, and the storm burst over Pixie's head, but she bore it
+meekly, with a kind of stunned acceptance.  _Everything_ seemed going
+wrong!  The sunny harmony of the last ten days had suddenly changed to
+gloom.  Pixie's thoughts made a lightning review of those different
+days.  How perfectly, incredibly happy they had been!  Until this moment
+she had not fully realised their perfection.
+
+"Ah, now, Pat, stop!  Don't worry, boy!  It's not my head! ...  Wait
+till to-morrow and you'll be better than ever, and think of the trouble
+it'll give you to apologise. ...  It's because we _care_!"
+
+"Wish to goodness you didn't then," cried the impenitent one.  However
+he might wish to apologise to-morrow, he was in no mood to begin
+to-night, but the pain in his head was so acute that by sheer exhaustion
+he was forced into silence.
+
+Stephen did not return as had been expected after sending his telephone
+message.  He preferred, it appeared, to go on the car, and personally
+bring back the doctor, and half an hour later the two men entered the
+room together.  Then ensued the usual tapping and sounding, the enforced
+reiteration of "Ah-ah!" the feeling of the pulse, the ignominious
+presentation of the tongue.  Pat went through the performance with the
+air of a martyr at the stake, sank back against the pillow when it was
+over, and hunched himself beneath the clothes.
+
+"That's right!  That's right!  Lie still and rest.  We'll soon have you
+all right again.  Have a little nap if you can, while I give Miss
+O'Shaughnessy my instructions in the er--er--"
+
+Doctor Braithey reminded himself in time that there _was_ no second
+sitting-room, and concluded grandiloquently--"in the hall!"
+
+They went out into the tiny passage, and Stephen and Pixie waited for
+the verdict.
+
+"Well!  The right lung is touched.  He has taken a chill.  Now we must
+see what we can do to prevent it from going farther."
+
+He cast an inquiring glance at Pixie.
+
+"D'you know anything about poulticing?"
+
+"Yes, everything!  I've helped my sister with her children, and I
+brought the things..."
+
+"That's well!  Poultice him then, a fresh one every two hours.  Here!
+You understand, in this position," he tapped himself in illustration.
+"I'll send in medicines, and we'll see how he is to-morrow morning.  If
+he is no better you'll need help.  We'll see about that when I call."
+
+A few more words and he was gone, racing down the long stairway, while
+Stephen lingered behind with an air of uncertainty.
+
+"I--suppose I can be of no use!  Pat ought to be quiet, and I'm no hand
+at poulticing.  You are sure you can manage alone?"
+
+Pixie nodded, struggling with a lump in her throat.  _Why_ wouldn't he
+stay?  Why did he so obviously not _want_ to stay?
+
+"I can.  It will be all right.  Moffatt will help me."
+
+"And to-morrow ... to-morrow you must get a nurse!"
+
+"No!" cried Pixie with sudden energy, "I will not.  I'll have no
+stranger.  I'll have Bridgie."  Her heart swelled at the sound of the
+beloved name; she felt a helpless longing to cast herself on that
+faithful breast.  "Bridgie must come.  There's no room for a nurse in
+this tiny place.  Bridgie could share my room."
+
+"We'll telegraph for her," Glynn said.  "I will come round after
+breakfast, and if Pat is not quite himself, I'll telegraph at once.  She
+could be with you by tea-time."
+
+He was kind and considerate.  He was thoughtful for her comfort, ready
+to help by deed as well as word.  Pixie could not explain to herself
+wherein lay the want, but the reality of it gnawed at her heart, and
+darkened still further the hours of that long, anxious night.
+
+Despite poultices, despite medicine, there was no doubt even to Pixie's
+inexperienced eyes that Pat was worse the next morning.  His breathing
+was heavier, he was hotter, more restless.  Without waiting for Stephen
+she sent the little maid to telephone to the doctor, and through the
+same medium dispatched a summoning wire to Bridgie in her northern home.
+
+The succeeding hours were filled with a nightmare-like struggle against
+odds which palpably increased with every hour.  Stephen came in and out,
+turned himself into a messenger to obtain everything that was needed,
+sent round a hamper of cooked dainties which would provide the small
+household for days to come, drove to the station to meet Bridgie and
+bring her to the flat, and oh! the joy, the relief, the blessed
+consciousness of help, which came to nurse and patient alike at the
+sight of that sweet, fair face!  In one minute Bridgie had shed her hat
+and coat, in the second moment she was scorching herself by the fire, to
+remove all trace of chill before she approached the bedside, in the
+third she was sitting beside it--calm, sweet, capable, with the air of
+having been there since the beginning of time, and intending to stay
+until the end.
+
+For the next few days Pat had a sharp struggle for his life.  Pneumonia
+clutched him in its grip, and the sound of his painful breathing was
+heard all over the little flat.  There was a dreadful night when hope
+was well-nigh extinguished, when Stephen Glynn and the two sisters
+seemed to wrestle with the very angel of death, and Pat himself to face
+the end.  "Shall I--die?" he gasped, and Bridgie's answering smile
+seemed to hold an angelic sweetness.
+
+"I hope not, dear lad.  There's so much work for you to do down here,
+but if you do--it's going home!  Mother's there, and the Major!  They'll
+welcome you!"
+
+But Pat was young, and the love of life was strong within him.  He had
+loved his parents, but still more at that moment he loved the thought of
+his work.  He fought for his life, and the fight was hard.
+
+Into most lives there comes at times such a night as this; a night of
+dark, illimitable hours, a night when the world and all its concerns
+withdraws itself to unmeasurable distance, and the division between life
+and the eternal grows thin and faint.  _Would Pat live to see the
+morning_?  That was the question which to his sisters overwhelmed every
+other thought.  Afterwards, looking back, Pixie could recall certain
+incidents registered by the sub-conscious self.  Being gently forced
+into a chair; being fed with cups of something hot and nourishing,
+placed suddenly in her hands by Stephen Glynn, always by Stephen, who
+seemed by his actions to regard her as a secondary invalid, to be tended
+with tenderest care.  Once, becoming suddenly conscious of his presence,
+as she stood in the kitchen preparing some necessary for the sick man, a
+growing fear burst into words, and she asked him pitifully--_how_
+pitifully she herself could never know--
+
+"Was it _my fault_?  Was there _anything_ I could have done?"
+
+"No, dear," he said simply.  "It is not your fault."
+
+Pixie was certain that he had said "dear."  The rhythm of it remained in
+her ears, that, and the deep gentleness of his tone.  He had been sorry
+for her, _so_ sorry!  And he was so much older, and he was Stanor's
+uncle.  Why should he not say "dear?"
+
+Short and sharp was the attack, but by God's mercy the crisis passed,
+and brought relief.  Weak as a child, but peaceful and quiet, Pat slept,
+and took his first steps back towards life.
+
+At last the danger was over, and Pat's natural vigour of constitution
+made the convalescence unusually quick, but even when he was
+comparatively well again, Bridgie refused in an altogether amazing and
+unprecedented manner to return to her beloved home.  She suggested not
+once, but many times in succession, that Pixie should return in her
+place to take the head of the household, but here Pat grew obstinate in
+his turn.
+
+No!  Pixie had had all the dull work of nursing; he was not going to
+allow her to return until she had had some fun.  And when he began to go
+out for walks, pray, who was going to accompany him, if Pixie went away?
+"You'd be off after her, the moment you saw me on my feet.  Don't deny
+it, for I know better!"  Pat declared, and Bridgie blushed, and did not
+deny it.  Already she was pining for Dick and the children; already
+counting the hours to her return, _but_...
+
+Movement was evidently in the air; perhaps it was caused by the bright,
+spring days which had replaced the former gloom.  Pat on his bed
+discussed a possible holiday before returning to work.  "It might hurry
+things," he said.  "What do you say, Pixie, seaside or country?  Must go
+somewhere where there's something to _do_!  Winter garden, concerts,
+bands, people to look at.  I want to be amused.  We'll have a week
+somewhere, and blow expense.  You might come too, Glynn, and bring the
+car."
+
+Glynn was sitting in his usual place beside the fire; Bridgie was by the
+bed; Pixie prone on the hearthrug.  During the last few days the invalid
+had been sufficiently strong to enjoy the society of his fellows, had
+even called upon Pixie to sing, and had apparently greatly enjoyed the
+hearing, though Bridgie seemed for once unappreciative, and had
+discouraged further efforts.  Now his mind had turned on to holidays,
+and he had made this direct appeal to Stephen, which seemed to find
+scant favour from two out of the three hearers.
+
+Bridgie frowned, and stared at the carpet; Stephen's pale face showed a
+discomfited flush.
+
+"You shall have the car with pleasure.  It shall take you wherever you
+decide to go, and be at your service for as long as you please, but for
+myself, I must get home.  I--I am not usually in town for so long at a
+time.  There are several things waiting attention which should not be
+delayed.  I must get back..."
+
+There was a dead silence, while each one of the three hearers realised
+the futility of the excuse.  Stephen's estate was in the hands of a
+capable agent: an extra week's absence could make little difference;
+moreover, previous statements had made it plain that he had originally
+intended to stay for some considerable time in town.  Plain, therefore,
+as print, and impossible to misunderstand was the fact that he did not
+_want_ to accompany his friends on their holiday; that in addition he
+did not for the moment desire more of their company in town.
+
+Bridgie raised her head: she was smiling, a bright, unaffected,
+_relieved-looking_ smile.
+
+"There's no end to the work on a big estate.  The Major--my father--used
+to say that every man was his own best bailiff, though he made a fine
+muddle of it himself, poor darling!  But my brother Jack agrees with
+him.  He's educated Miles to look after the Irish property, and so does
+Geoffrey Hilliard. ...  It's true he is away half his time--"
+
+At the best of times Bridgie was scarcely a special pleader, and to-day
+she seemed no sooner to make a statement than she contradicted it
+straight away.  She mumbled vaguely, and relapsed into silence.
+
+"Of course we won't take your car.  You will need it for your business
+excursions!"  Pat said icily.  "We are very much indebted to you for
+letting us have the use of it here.  It's been of great service, hasn't
+it, Pixie?"
+
+"It has!  I don't know what we'd have done without it.  We _are_
+grateful," agreed Pixie warmly.  Her voice out of all the four was the
+only one which rang true; her eyes smiled across the room with
+unembarrassed friendliness.  Nevertheless Bridgie, looking on, felt a
+cramp of pain.  How much older Pixie had grown in appearance!  The lines
+of strain and repression over which she had sighed more than once before
+now had surely deepened during the last weeks!  Anxiety, no doubt, the
+strain of nursing--Bridgie comforted herself as best she might, but no
+explanation could take away the pang which the mother heart feels at the
+sight of pain on a young face!
+
+"Come, Pixie," she said, rising, "we'll make tea!  I promised Pat potato
+cakes as soon as the doctor allowed them, and that's to-day.  We'll have
+a feast!--"
+
+"Leave them to themselves," she said confidingly to Pixie when the
+kitchen was reached.  "They'll shake down better without us.  Pat's
+fractious; he always was from a child when he was crossed, but the
+potato cakes will soothe him.  I'm sorry for Mr Glynn.  Really, you
+know, dear, Pat's _exacting_!"
+
+"'Deed he is.  It's no wonder he is tired of it."  Bridgie needed no
+explanation as to the significance of that second he.  "He's been
+fussing about us for weeks, and now he'll go home and rest.  It's a good
+thing!  Will I mash the potatoes for you, Bridgie?"
+
+"Thank you, darling," said Bridgie humbly, but her face remained
+troubled.  Once more, and with all her heart, she wished that Pixie were
+safe at home.
+
+The rumble of men's voices could be heard from the kitchen--an amicable
+rumble it appeared to be, though with mysterious breaks from time to
+time.  Bridgie bustled in, tea-tray in hand, in the middle of one of
+these breaks, and surprised a look of sadness on each face.  She decided
+that Stephen was to depart forthwith, but such was not the case, since
+over tea he alluded to an old promise to take Pixie to the Temple, and
+included Bridgie in an invitation for the following Sunday.
+
+"And then I must be off--on Monday--or--or perhaps on Tuesday," he said
+vaguely.  "One day next week."
+
+"I leave on Monday too," said Bridgie, and ate her potato cake with
+recovered zest.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.
+
+HE LOVES YOU.
+
+That evening Pat showed early signs of fatigue, and requested Bridgie to
+settle him for the night, bidding the while so marked a farewell to
+Pixie that she had no alternative but to retire forthwith to her own
+room.  Truth to tell she was not sorry, for sleep had been an uncertain
+quantity of late, and the prospect of a long undisturbed night was
+agreeable.  She dallied over her undressing, and when Bridgie joined her
+half an hour later, sat perched upon the bed, dressing-gowned, her hands
+clasped round her knees, watching with admiring eyes the picture of her
+sweet-faced sister seated before the dressing-table engaged in brushing
+out her long fair hair.
+
+"You've a fine head of hair, me dear!  It's wearing well. ...  D'you
+remember the day you and Esmeralda had the trick played on you about
+going to bed, and sat up half the night brushing and combing to tire out
+the other?"
+
+"I do so," answered Bridgie, but it was but a faint smile which she gave
+to the memory of that youthful joke.  She parted her hair with a sweep
+of the brush, and gazing at her sister between the long gold strands
+said suddenly, and earnestly, "Pixie!"
+
+"Me dear?"
+
+"There's something I want to say. ...  To-morrow Mr Glynn will be here.
+Pat's asked him to come back after church.  He is going away on Monday,
+so it will be the last time.  Be _careful_, darling!  Think what you're
+about.  You don't want to be unkind--"
+
+Pixie stared--a stunned, incredulous stare.
+
+"Unkind!  To _him_!  Are you raving?  What am I to be careful about?"
+
+"Oh--oh--_everything_!"  Bridgie's breath came in a gasp of
+helplessness.  It had been difficult to speak, but a sense of duty had
+driven her on, and now it was too late to stop.  "Don't--don't talk to
+him so much.  Don't look at him."  (Did Pixie realise how instinctively
+her eyes sought Stephen's for sympathy and appreciation?) "Don't sit by
+the fire and sing."
+
+A flush spread over Pixie's cheek; her eyes widened.
+
+"_Why_?  Doesn't he like it?  Isn't it _nice_?"
+
+"Oh-oh, _Pixie_!" cried Bridgie helplessly.  A vision rose before her of
+a little figure in a rose-coloured gown, of the firelight playing on the
+upturned face.  She heard again, the deep crooning notes which filled
+the room with sweetness.  To herself, a sister, the picture was full of
+charm--what must it be to a lonely man, in love for the first time in
+thirty-five years?  She rose from her chair and came across to the bed:
+face to face, within the stretch of an arm, the sisters waited in
+silence, while the clock on the mantelpiece ticked out a long minute.
+"Pixie," whispered Bridgie breathlessly, "_don't you know_?"
+
+"What?"
+
+"Don't you know, Pixie, that he loves you?"
+
+"Who loves me?"
+
+"Stephen Glynn.  Oh, Pixie, didn't you see?"
+
+The colour faded from Pixie's face; she threw out her hand as if to ward
+off a threatened danger.  There was a note almost of anger in her
+reply--
+
+"It's not true; it's not!  It couldn't be true. ...  He care for me!
+For Me!  You're mad, Bridgie!  You're dreaming!  There's nothing..."
+
+"Oh, Pixie, there _is_!  I saw it the first evening.  I'd have spoken
+before, but Pat was so ill.  Then I tried--you know how.  I tried!--to
+send you away.  I knew that every day was making it harder for him, more
+difficult to forget.  I was so _sorry_ for him!  Pixie, he is
+thirty-five, and has suffered so much.  It's hard on a man when he gets
+to that age, and--"
+
+"_Don't_!" cried Pixie sharply.  She thrust out her hand once more, and
+cowered as if from a blow.  "Bridgie, I can't bear it!  Don't torture
+me, Bridgie. ...  It _isn't_ true!  You are making it up.  Ah, Bridgie,
+it's because you love me yourself that you think every one must do the
+same!  He's--Stanor's uncle ...  Pat's friend--he was just kind like
+other friends. ...  He never said a word ... looked a look."  Suddenly,
+unexpectedly the blood flared in her face as memory took her back to the
+hour when she stood at the door of the flat and watched Stephen's abrupt
+descent down the flagged stairway.  "Oh, Bridgie, are ye sure?  Are ye
+_sure_?  How are ye sure?  It's so easy to be deceived!  Bridgie, you've
+no _right_ to say it if you are not sure.  I don't believe you!  Nothing
+could make me believe unless he said--"
+
+"Pixie, he has said!"  The words fell from Bridgie's lips as though in
+opposition to her judgment she were compelled to speak them.  "Pat was
+hurt that he was going; he reproached him to-night after we left; they
+had a discussion about it, and he said Stephen Glynn said that he
+daren't stay, he daren't see more of you. ...  Pat does not think he
+meant to say it, it just--said itself!  And afterwards he set his lips,
+and put on his haughty air, and turned the conversation, and Pat dared
+not say another word.  But he had said enough. ...  His face! ... his
+voice! ...  Pat did not believe he could feel so much.  He cares
+desperately, Pixie."
+
+Pixie sat motionless--so silent, so motionless, that not a breath seemed
+to stir her being.  Bridgie waited, her face full of motherly
+tenderness, but the silence was so long, so intense, that by degrees the
+tenderness changed into anxiety.  It was unlike emotional Pixie to face
+any crisis of life in silence; the necessity to express herself had ever
+been her leading characteristic, so that lack of expression was of all
+things the most startling, in her sister's estimation.  She stretched
+out her hand, and laid it on the bowed shoulder with a firm,
+strengthening touch.
+
+"Pixie!  Look up!  Speak to me!  What are you thinking, dear?"
+
+Pixie raised her face, a set face, which to the watching eyes seemed
+apiece with the former silence.  There seemed _no_ expression on it; it
+was a lifeless mask which had been swept of expression.  As the blank
+eyes looked into her own and the lips mechanically moved, Bridgie had
+the sensation of facing a stranger in the place of the beloved little
+sister.
+
+"I am honoured!" said Pixie flatly.  "I am honoured!"
+
+She rose slowly from the bed, moving stiffly as though the mere physical
+effort were a strain, and passing by Bridgie's inviting arms walked over
+to the dressing-table and began to loosen her own hair.
+
+"You have finished, Bridgie?  I'm not in your way?" she asked quietly,
+and Bridgie faltered a weak "No!" and felt that the world was coming to
+an end.
+
+Pixie silent; Pixie dignified; Pixie quietly but unmistakably holding
+her sister and guardian at arm's length, this was an experience
+petrifying in its unexpectedness!  She had not spoken on the impulse of
+a moment; for days past she had been nerving herself to open Pixie's
+eyes.  At the bottom of her heart had lain a dawning hope that such an
+opening might not be in vain, for Pixie had never really loved Stanor
+Vaughan.  At the time of their engagement she had not even understood
+what love meant; during the years of their separation there had been
+nothing but an occasional letter to preserve his image in her mind, and
+when the allotted two years were over, Stanor himself had voluntarily
+extended his exile.  Bridgie set her lips as she recalled a fact so
+hurtful to her sister's dignity.  She heard again Pat's voice, echoing
+the sentiments of her own heart.  "Tell her, Bridgie!  She ought to
+know.  He's worth a thousand of that other fellow.  Don't let her throw
+away the substance for the shadow."
+
+So she had spoken, and a new Pixie--a Pixie she had never even imagined
+in dreams--had listened, and made her reply.  "I am honoured!" she had
+said, and straightway, sweetly, courteously, irrevocably, had closed the
+subject.
+
+Bridgie bent her head and plaited her hair in the two long ropes which
+made her nightly coiffure.  She was thankful of the employment, thankful
+of an excuse to hide her face; she listened to the ticking of the clock
+upon the mantelpiece and asked herself what she should do next.  The
+incredible had come to pass, and she, Bridgie, sister, guardian, married
+woman, mother of a family, was nervous in Pixie's presence!  Not for any
+bribe that could have been offered would she have ventured to hint at
+that hope which she and Pat had shared in common.
+
+Suddenly through the little flat rang the sound of the postman's knock.
+The last of the many deliveries of the day had arrived, and Bridgie
+peeping out of the door spied a couple of white envelopes prone on the
+mat.  She crept out to get them, thankful of the diversion, and was
+overjoyed to behold on one her husband's writing.
+
+"One for me, Pixie, and one for you--an enclosure forwarded from home.
+I'm so glad to get mine.  It's nice for the postmen in London to have
+Sundays free, but we country people _do_ miss letters," she said glibly,
+as she handed Pixie her share of the spoil, and seated herself in the
+one comfortable chair which the room afforded, to enjoy to the full the
+welcome message from home.
+
+Perhaps Dick had divined the double anxiety which was burdening his
+wife, perhaps he realised how long she would feel a Sunday without news,
+perhaps out of his own loneliness had arisen a need for words--in any
+case, that special letter was the longest and, to Bridgie's heart, the
+dearest which she had received since her departure from home.  He told
+her of the children, and of their latest sayings; he told her of himself
+and his work; he comforted her, where she needed comfort, cheered her,
+where she needed cheer, called her by the sweet love names which she
+most loved to hear, and held before her eyes the prospect of a swift
+return.  And Bridgie reading that letter thanked God for the thousandth
+time, because on her--undeserving--had been bestowed the greatest gift
+which a woman can receive--the gift of a faithful love!
+
+Ten minutes had passed before she had read and re-read her precious
+letter, but when she turned her head it was to find Pixie standing in
+the same position as that in which she had seen her last, gazing down
+upon a sheet of paper on which a few short lines were written in a
+masculine writing.  At Bridgie's movement she raised her head, and spoke
+in a curiously low, level voice--
+
+"It is from Stanor.  He has sailed for home.  Honor Ward and a party of
+friends were crossing, and he decided at the last moment to come with
+them.  We shall see him on Thursday next."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.
+
+STANOR COMES BACK.
+
+It was Thursday morning.  With the doctor's permission Pat's bed had
+been carried back to the minute apartment which was grandiloquently
+termed a "dressing-room."  A sofa took its place in the dining-room, and
+with the aid of a stick he could walk from one refuge to another, and
+enjoy what--after the confinement of the past months--appeared quite an
+exciting variety of scene.
+
+Bridgie Victor was still a joint occupant of the "best" bedroom, for
+since Pat refused to part with Pixie it was plainly the elder sister's
+duty to stay on over the important meeting with Stanor Vaughan.  The
+modern girl scoffs at the idea of chaperonage, but the O'Shaughnessys
+were not modern.  Bridgie felt the impulse to protect, and Pixie's
+piteous "_Stay_ with me, Bridgie!" marked the one moment of weakness
+which she had shown.  So Bridgie remained in London, comforted by the
+knowledge that her husband was well and her children in good hands, and
+seldom in her life had five days passed so slowly.  Sunday itself had
+seemed a week long, the atmosphere strained and unreal, each member of
+the little party talking to pass the time, uttering platitudes, and
+discussing every imaginable subject under the sun but just the one which
+filled every mind.  No need to bid Pixie to be discreet, to warn her not
+to sing, nor glance too frequently in a certain direction--a talking
+automaton could not have shown less sign of feeling.
+
+As for Stephen Glynn, the news of his nephew's sudden return obviously
+came to him as a shock, but as a man of the world he was an adept in
+hiding his feelings, and though he curtailed his visit, so long as he
+was in the flat he exerted himself to preserve an ordinary demeanour.
+His adieux also were of the most commonplace description.
+
+"It's hardly worth while to say good-bye.  We shall meet, we shall
+certainly meet before long.  I will write to welcome Stanor, and you--"
+he held Pixie's hand and looked down at her with an inquiring
+glance--"you will let me hear your--news?"
+
+"I will," answered Pixie simply.
+
+Bridgie would have given a fortune to be able to see what was in "the
+child's" head at that moment, to know what she was really thinking.  The
+sisters walked together to the door, Pat, on his stick, bringing up the
+rear, and stood watching Stephen descend.  Once and again he looked up,
+smiled, and waved his hand, and as he did so his eyes had the same
+piteous glance which Pixie had noticed on their first meeting.  The
+expression of those upturned eyes hurt all three onlookers in different
+degrees, and sent them back to their little room with downcast looks.
+
+"Now he'll bury himself in the country again and mope!  It's been the
+making of him being here in town.  Goodness knows what will happen to
+him now!" said Pat, dropping on to the couch with an impatient sigh, and
+Bridgie murmured softly--
+
+"The dear, man!  The dear man!  So hard for, him to be alone.  But you
+needn't be anxious, Pat.  He's so _good_.  He'll be looked after! ...
+Don't you think, now, his eyes are the least thing in the world like
+Dick's?"
+
+"Not the least least!" snapped Pixie, and that was her one contribution
+to the conversation.
+
+And now it was Thursday--Thursday afternoon, within an hour, of the time
+fixed by telegram for Stanor's arrival.  Pat had elected to stay in bed,
+in consequence of what he called headache and his sisters translated as
+"sulks."  He didn't want to see the fellow. ...  What was the fellow to
+him?  Didn't know how the fellow had the face to turn up at all, after
+dawdling away an extra six months.  Hoped to goodness the fellow would
+make short work of it and be off, as he wanted to get up for dinner.
+
+In her heart Bridgie agreed with each sentiment in turn, but she felt it
+her duty to be stern and bracing.
+
+"'Deed, and I hope so, too!  Else I shall have to sit here, and you're
+not the best company.  I'm your guest, me dear--if you haven't the heart
+to be civil ye might at least have the good manners!  My little Jack
+would never dr-eam--"
+
+"Little prig he must be, then," mumbled Pat; but the reproof went home,
+and he grumbled no more.
+
+Just before the clock struck the hour Bridgie paid a flying visit to the
+little sitting-room to see that the tea-table was set, the kettle on the
+hob, the dish of hot scones on the brass stand in the fender, and
+everything ready to hand, so that no one need enter unless specially
+summoned.  She found Pixie standing gazing into the fire, and started
+with surprise and disappointment.
+
+"_Pixie_, your dress!  That dull old thing?  Why not your pink?  Me
+dear, you've time. ...  There's still time. ...  Run off and change it!"
+
+But Pixie shook her head.
+
+"Bridgie, _don't fuss_!" she said, and there was a note in her voice
+which checked the words on Bridgie's lips.  She literally dared not say
+any more, but her heart was heavy with disappointment.
+
+She had been so anxious that Pixie should look her best for this
+important interview, had been so complacently satisfied that the
+rose-coloured gown was as becoming as it could be, and now the
+aggravating, mysterious little thing had deliberately left it hanging in
+the wardrobe, and put on instead an old brown dress which had been a
+failure at the beginning, and was now well advanced in middle age.  One
+result of Pixie's sojourn in Paris had been an acquired faculty for
+making the best of herself: she put on her clothes with care, she wore
+them "with an air," she dressed her hair with neat precision, and then
+with a finger and thumb gave a tweak here, a pat there, which imparted
+to the final effect something piquant and attractive.  To-day it
+appeared as if that transforming touch had been forgotten, and Bridgie,
+looking on, felt that pang of distress which all motherly hearts
+experience when their nurslings show otherwise than at their best.
+
+"Are you not going to sit with Pat?" inquired Pixie at the end of a
+pregnant silence, and at that very obvious hint Bridgie retired
+perforce, repeating gallantly to herself, "Looks don't matter!  Looks
+don't matter!  They don't matter a bit!" and believing just as much of
+what she said as would any other young woman of her age.
+
+Another ten minutes and the sound of the electric bell rang sharply
+round the flat.  The door opened and shut, and Moffatt, entering the
+sitting-room in advance, announced loudly--
+
+"Mr Vaughan!"
+
+A tall, fair man entered with a rapid step.  Pixie looked at him, and
+felt a consciousness of unutterable strangeness.  This was not the man
+from whom she had parted on the deck of that ocean-bound steamer!  This
+man was older, broader; the once lazy, laughter-loving eyes were keen
+and shrewd.  His shoulders also were padded into the exaggerated square,
+characteristic of American tailors.
+
+"Well--Pixie!"
+
+Even the voice was strange.  It had absorbed the American accent, the
+American clip and drawl.  Pixie had the consciousness of struggling with
+stiffened features which refused to smile.
+
+"Well--Stanor!"
+
+He took her hand and held it in his, the while he stared down at her
+upturned face.  His brows contracted, as though what he saw was more
+painful than pleasant.  "I guess you've been having a bad time," he
+said.  "I was sorry to hear your brother's been sick."
+
+"He is better now," Pixie said, and gently withdrew her hand.
+
+_Two and a half years' waiting, and this was the meeting_!  She drew
+herself up, with the little air of dignity which she knew so well how to
+assume, and waved him to a seat.
+
+"Won't you sit down?  I will give you some tea.  It is all ready, and
+the kettle is boiling.  When did you arrive in town?"
+
+"Two hours ago.  I went straight to my hotel to write some letters, and
+then came along here. ...  This is your brother's apartment?  Nice
+little place!  It's good news that he is better!  Hard luck on him to be
+bowled over like that!"
+
+The accent, the intonation carried Pixie's thoughts irresistibly towards
+another speaker, whose memory war associated with her own first meeting
+with Stanor.  On the spur of the moment she mentioned her name.
+
+"Where is Honor Ward?  Is she in London, too?"
+
+Stanor started; over his features passed a quiver as of anxiety or
+dread.  He glanced across the fireplace, and the new keenness in his
+eyes became still more marked.
+
+"Er--no!  She stopped half way.  Later on ... perhaps--"
+
+"She is quite well?"
+
+Again a moment's hesitation.
+
+"Fairly well, only ...  Very tired."
+
+"I don't wonder she is tired; she does so much.  Always rushing about
+after something new.  They seem very restless people in America."
+
+"They're alive, anyway; they don't rust!  They're bound to get the most
+that's possible out of life, and they get it!  It shakes a fellow up to
+get out of the rut here and have a taste of their methods."
+
+"You like it--better than _home_?"  Pixie paused, teapot in hand, to
+cast upon him a glance full of patriotic reproach, whereat he laughed
+and shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Isn't home the place where one settles down, and which feels to be most
+congenial?"
+
+"You find America more congenial than England?"
+
+He shrugged again, and the old gleam of laughter showed in his eyes.
+
+"Now look here, isn't it bad luck to begin asking embarrassing questions
+straight away off?  I hoped I was going to avoid this point!  If you
+must have the truth--I _do_!  America suits me!"--his smile was full of
+complacence--"I suit America.  That's not by any means a sure thing.
+Many Englishmen throw up the sponge and return home.  They can't adapt
+themselves, don't _want_ to adapt themselves.  In my case I had had no
+business experience in England, so I began with an open mind without
+prejudice, and--it _went_: I like the life, I like the people.  I like
+the climate.  The climate is answerable for a lot of the extra energy
+which you over here call `restlessness.'  You want to do just about
+twice as much beneath those skies!"  He cast an impatient glance towards
+the window.  "It's all so _grey_! ...  I've had a headache straight on
+the last two days."
+
+"Tea's ready now; it will do you good.  There are hot scones in that
+dish," Pixie said quietly.  The greyness of the street seemed to have
+entered the room--to have entered her heart.  It was _all_ grey. ...
+"We knew, of course, that you _must_ like it, when you stayed so long."
+
+Now there was something which was _not grey_.  Stanor's face flushed a
+painful red; he looked at his cup, at the floor, in the fire, at
+anything but in Pixie's face.  His voice was hard with repressed
+embarrassment.
+
+"Er--just so; you would, of course!  There was work on hand.  I waited
+to see it through.  When a man has spent two years in the same place so
+many claims arise, in social life as well as in work.  It is difficult
+for him to break away at a moment's notice.  He is hardly his own
+master."
+
+"I'm sure it is.  And when there was work you were quite right to stay
+on.  It would have been wrong to have left it unfinished."
+
+Stanor, looked up sharply, met clear, honest eyes, which looked back
+into his without a trace of sarcasm.  She _meant_ it!  Voice and look
+alike were transparently genuine.  At that moment she was essentially
+the Pixie of old, the Pixie to whom it came naturally to believe the
+best.  The flush on Stanor's cheeks deepened as he realised the nature
+of the "work" which had made his excuse.  His voice deepened with the
+first real note of intimacy.
+
+"That's like you, Pixie!  You always understood. ...  And now tell me
+about yourself.  What's happened to you since I heard last?  Six months
+ago, was it?  No! barely four.  Didn't you write for Christmas?  Been
+jogging along as usual at home, playing games with the babies?"
+
+"Yes; just jogging," said Pixie.  Then of a sudden her eyes flashed.
+"`Over here' we don't find the `best of life' in a _rush_!  It comes to
+some of us quite satisfactorily in a jog!  `I guess,' as you say, that
+my life as been as much `worth while' as if I'd spent it in a round of
+pink luncheons and green teas, as your American friends seem to do."
+
+The unexpected happened, and, instead of protesting, Stanor sighed, and
+looked of a sudden grave and depressed.
+
+"You're right there, Pixie; that's so, if you are built the right way!
+But some of us--" He checked himself, and began afresh in a voice of
+enforced enthusiasm.  "Well!--and then you came up here to nurse your
+brother, and found the Runkle already in possession.  I _was_ surprised
+to read about that in your letter at Liverpool.  Odd, isn't it, how
+things come about?  And how _is_ the old fellow?"
+
+Again Pixie's eyes sent out a flash.  How was it that every fresh thing
+that Stanor said seemed to hurt her in a new place?
+
+"Considering his great years and infirmities, the old fellow seems
+surprisingly well."
+
+"Halloo, what's this?"  Stanor stared in surprise.  "Said the wrong
+thing, have I?  What have I said?  He seems old, you know, if he isn't
+actually so in years.  I used to look upon him as a patriarch.  Not so
+much his looks as his character.  Such a sombre old beggar!"
+
+"He wasn't sombre with _us_!"
+
+Memory flashed back pictures of Stephen's face as he sat in the
+arm-chair by the fire, listening to those impromptu concerts which had
+enlivened Pat's convalescence.  Pixie saw him as he leaned forward in
+his chair, waving his hand baton-like, heard his voice, joining lustily
+in the "Matches" chorus.  In that very room--in the very chair in which
+Stanor now sat. ...  What centuries seemed to have lolled by, between
+that day, and this!
+
+"Wasn't he?  That's good!  I'm glad to hear that," Stanor said
+perfunctorily.  "It takes time, of course, to get out of invalid ways.
+I shall have to be running down to see him one of these days."
+
+"Oh, of course; he'll expect you.  And then--then you'll begin your work
+over here.  In London, I suppose?"
+
+"I ... er ... the firm is in town.  There--er--there will be a lot to
+arrange."  Suddenly Stanor leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his
+eyes searching her face.  "Pixie, this is an odd sort of conversation
+for our first meeting! ...  We've got wrong somehow. ...  Can't we get
+right?  Why waste time on generalities. ...  Are you _glad_ to see me
+back, Pixie?"
+
+"I am!"  Pixie's eyes gazed back without a flicker.  "When I got your
+letter I was--thankful!  I think it was--time--you came back."
+
+"Have you missed me, Pixie, while, I've been away?"
+
+Now she hesitated, but her eyes remained steady and candid.
+
+"It had been such a little time, you know; and you had never stayed with
+us at home.  I could hardly _miss_ you out of my life, but I ...
+_thought_ of you!"
+
+"Did you, Pixie?  Did you, little Pixie? ...  I wonder _what_ you
+thought!"
+
+Pixie did not answer that question.  The answer would have been too
+long, too complicated.  She smiled, a wistful little smile, and turned
+away her head.
+
+Then Stanor rose.  She heard him rise, heard the chink of the tea-things
+on the tray as he pressed upon it in rising, heard his footsteps passing
+round the table towards her chair, heard in a sickening silence his
+summoning voice--
+
+"Pixie!"
+
+"Stanor!"
+
+They looked at each other;--white, strained, tense.
+
+"Pixie, will you marry me?"
+
+"Yes, Stanor, I will.  If you want me..."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.
+
+"WHAT HAVE I DONE?"
+
+There was a moment's silence, a moment which seemed like an hour.  Then
+Stanor spoke--
+
+"Thank you, Pixie!"
+
+He put his arms round her, made as if to kiss her cheek, but the small
+hands held him off with unexpected strength.
+
+"Not yet!  Not yet!  You haven't answered my question!"
+
+"What question?"
+
+"_If you want me_?"  The grey eyes were very near his own.  They seemed
+to search into his very soul.  "_Do_ you want me, Stanor?"
+
+"Pixie, what a question!  You ... you _know_ the answer."
+
+"I think I do."  She nodded her head with a grave certainty.  "I'm sure
+I do. ...  You _don't_ want me, Stanor!"
+
+He started at that, and his hands relaxed their hold.  The dull red
+flush mounted once more to his forehead, his lips twitched, and twitched
+again.  The man was suffering, and the marks of his pain were plain to
+read.
+
+"Why ... should you say that?  Pixie, what is it?  I explained about
+that extra six months. ...  You said you understood.  It was part of the
+agreement that we were not to write except on occasions.  Were my
+letters wrong?  Didn't they please you?  I was never a good hand at
+letter-writing.  Was that it?  What was it?  What have I done, Pixie, to
+make you doubt me?"
+
+"I don't think," said Pixie dreamily, "you have done anything."  It
+seemed for a moment as if she had nothing more to say, then suddenly she
+asked another question: "Stanor!  That day in Liverpool, on the
+landing-stage, did you notice a girl standing near me--a girl with a fur
+cap?"
+
+"No, Pixie.  I noticed only one girl--yourself!"
+
+"She was parting from a man--her lover or husband--who was leaning over
+the rail and looking down at her.  Stanor ... they ... _cared_!  They
+loved each other. ...  All these years I have had their faces in my
+heart.  I looked at them, and I looked at you, and I understood the
+difference!"
+
+"I was miserable enough, Pixie.  All men do not show their feelings in
+the same way."
+
+"I knew you were sorry.  I was sorry, too. ...  I'm not blaming you.
+I've no right to blame you.  I have waited for you, and you've come
+back.  You have asked me to marry you.  Stanor!"  She clasped his arms
+with her hands, her eyes intently gazing into his.  "I'll tell you the
+truth about myself.--I was a child when you went away.  I didn't know
+how to love.  Now I do!  If you love me, Stanor, with your whole heart
+and soul, more than any one in the world, more than _anything_ in the
+world, then marry me, dear, and I'll make you happy!  If you don't ...
+if there is any doubt in your mind, if there is some one else who has
+grown nearer to you while you've been away--I shouldn't be angry,
+Stanor, only," her voice shook, a quiver passed over the upturned face,
+"please tell me _now_!  Be honest!  It's for all our lives, remember.
+...  We've no right to spoil our lives.  God gave them to us; we're
+responsible to Him.  _It will_ spoil them, Stanor, if there's not real,
+real love between us.  Now tell me ... look in my eyes and tell me,
+Stanor ... _do_ you want me?"
+
+But he could not face her.  He wrenched himself free of her grasp,
+turned towards the mantelpiece, and with a groan buried his face in his
+hands.
+
+"Pixie, you ... you shame me ... you cover me with shame!  I ought to
+have known that I could not deceive you. ...  You are not the sort to be
+deceived. ...  It's worse than you think. ...  When the temptation came,
+I could have kept out of the way ... she wanted me to keep away, but I
+wouldn't do it.  I followed her wherever she went--I--you'd better know
+the whole truth, and then you'll understand the kind of fellow I am.
+It's not my fault that I wasn't married months ago, that you didn't read
+it in the papers without a word of preparation!  That's what I wanted
+... what I proposed.  It was she who refused.  It is her doing that I
+_am_ here to-day.  She would have nothing to say to me till I had asked
+you first.--I wanted to stay on in America, settle down there, and keep
+out of the way--"
+
+He had spoken with his face hidden; now, as he finished speaking, he
+remained in the same position, and not a sound came to his ears but the
+ticking of the clock in the corner.  He might have been alone in the
+room; a miserable conviction seized him that he _was_ alone, that
+between himself and the girl by his side there had arisen an
+impenetrable wall.
+
+As for Pixie she had promised not to be angry, but it appeared to her at
+that moment that she had never before known what anger meant.  It burned
+within her--a flame of indignation and wounded faith, a throwing back on
+herself of all the arduous mental battles of the last few days.  Never,
+even to herself, had Pixie acknowledged that she had learned to love
+Stephen Glynn.  That it hurt her to know of his love for her; hurt
+intolerably to see him depart, were truths which could not be ignored,
+but while Stanor lived and was faithful it was impossible even to
+contemplate love for another man.  Pixie had enough knowledge of her own
+nature to realise that she could be happy in giving Stanor a happiness
+which he could only gain through her.  It was as natural to her to be
+happy as for a flower to lift its face in the sun, but for both the sun
+was needed.  A more introspective soul would have realised that there
+were degrees in happiness, and that she would be missing the best; Pixie
+with characteristic simplicity accepted what seemed to her the right
+step, and shut her mind against vain regrets.
+
+But--Stanor did not want her.  He was _not_ faithful.  He had had so
+little consideration for her feelings that he would have let her read of
+his marriage in a public print.  He had appeared now only at the command
+of another.
+
+"I think," said Pixie deeply, "you are a cowardly man.  I am sorry for
+the girl you are going to marry.  She seems to have a conscience, but it
+would have been kinder of her if she had made you tell me the truth
+without first trying to spoil my life.  I suppose you _would_ have
+married me if I had said `yes,' or was it only a form which you never
+intended to keep?"
+
+"You are hard on me, Pixie, but I deserve it.  I have no excuses to
+make.  My only comfort is that I have not ruined your happiness.  Like
+you, I have learnt my lesson, and I can see one thing clearly: You don't
+love me, Pixie!"
+
+"No, I don't love you, but I have kept myself for you.  I have closed my
+heart to every other thought.  I _would_ have loved you if you had
+needed me.  Nothing, nothing in the world could have made me deceive
+you!"
+
+"I knew it!  We both knew it!  Honor said--"
+
+"_Honor_!"  Pixie's cry rang sharp.  "Is it Honor?  Honor Ward?"
+Somehow the knowledge seemed an additional hurt; she sat down on a chair
+and clasped her cold hands.  The brain flashed back memories of
+occasions dating back to the very beginning of Stanor's life in America,
+when his name and Honor's had been coupled together.  "Honor Ward and
+I."  "Stanor Vaughan and I." ...  Memories of an earlier occasion still
+when Honor had said with _empressement_.  "You can trust me, Pixie!"
+Even then, had she foreseen what might happen--even then, with her
+knowledge of her own character and Stanor's, seen danger ahead?  Well,
+Honor _had_ been loyal!  From Stanor's manner, even more than his words,
+it was obvious that had there been no impediment in the way as regards
+her own wishes, yet she had refused him, had sent him home to keep his
+troth.  After that first sharp moment Pixie had no coldness in her heart
+towards Honor Ward.
+
+Stanor was talking, moving restlessly to and fro, telling the story of
+the past years in jerky, disconnected sentences, blaming himself,
+exonerating Honor.  The sound of his words penetrated to Pixie's brain,
+but not the sense.  It seemed to her useless to listen; there was
+nothing more to be said.
+
+Suddenly she rose from her seat with an air of decision.
+
+"I think you had better go.  Bridgie, my sister--Mrs Victor--is here.
+I would rather you didn't see her.  She will be angry; they will all be
+angry.  They are fond of me, you see; and they will think I have been
+humiliated.  I am _not_ humiliated!  No one can humiliate me but myself;
+but just at first they won't be reasonable. ...  Will you please go?"
+
+"Pixie, don't think about me ... think of yourself!  I will leave it to
+you to tell your own story.--I have asked you to marry me, and you have
+refused. ...  Tell them that ... tell them that _you_ refused, that it
+was _your_ doing, not mine--"
+
+The glance of the grey eyes gave him a hot tingling of shame.
+
+"You don't understand," said Pixie softly.  "I am _proud_ of being the
+faithful one!  You don't understand..."  She laid her hand on the door,
+but Stanor stopped her with another question--
+
+"And--Honor?  What shall I say to Honor?  She thinks so much of you.
+She'll do nothing without your consent.  Some day when she comes to
+London ... will you ... see her, Pixie?"
+
+Pixie shook her head.
+
+"It would hurt us both, and do no good.  Give her my love.  As for you--
+I can't give her what is not mine. ...  You belong to _her_, so there's
+nothing more to be said. ...  I hope you will make her happy."
+
+"I will--I will!  At this moment I seem to you an unmitigated scoundrel,
+but things will be different. ...  We shall settle in America.  I will
+help her with her work.  We'll work together.  I'd give my life for her
+...  I _will_ give it!  I'll make amends..."  He stood still, waiting as
+if there were still more to be said.  "My uncle will be angry, but it is
+his doing.  If it had not been for him, we should have been married
+years ago.  He shouldn't blame me for what he has brought about.  His is
+the blame.  If I see him--_when_ I see him--can I say anything from
+you?"
+
+"Tell him," said Pixie clearly, "that I am grateful to him.  _His is the
+praise_!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.
+
+HONOR'S LETTER.
+
+Bridgie _was_ angry.  It was rarely indeed that her placid nature was
+roused to wrath, but she did the thing thoroughly when she was about it.
+In a flow of eloquence, worthy of Esmeralda herself, she revived
+incidents in Pixie's life, dating from babyhood onwards, to prove to the
+chairs and tables, and any odd pieces of furniture which might happen to
+be listening, the blameless and beautiful character of the maid who had
+even been spurned ("spurned" was the word used) by a recreant unworthy
+the name of scoundrel.  She dived into the past, and pictured the
+feelings of those past and gone; she projected herself into the future,
+and bequeathed a Corsican legacy of revenge.  She lavished blame on
+Joan, Geoffrey, herself, Jack and Sylvia, Pat and Miles, even the
+beloved Dick himself, and refused to hear a word in Honor's defence.
+The only person who came unscathed through the ordeal was Stephen Glynn,
+whom, it would appear, had absorbed in himself the wisdom which every
+one else had so shamefully lacked.
+
+When Bridgie ended Pat began.  The news had had an unexpected effect, in
+rousing the invalid and restoring him to a feeling of health more
+powerfully than a hundred tonics could have done.  For the first time
+for weeks past he forgot himself and his woes, and behold a new man,
+with a strength and vitality astounding to witness.  Pat announced his
+intention of sallying forth and thrashing the beggar forthwith; he dealt
+bitterly with the squeamishness of the English law with regard to duels,
+declared in the same breath that he could never have believed in the
+possibility of such behaviour, and that he had prophesied it from the
+first.  He adjured Pixie repeatedly, and with unction, to "Buck up!" and
+when the poor girl protested valiantly that she _was_ bucking,
+immediately adjured her to be honest, for pity's sake, and "let herself
+go!"
+
+An ordinary person would have found such a form of comfort far from
+soothing, but Pixie was an O'Shaughnessy herself, and it _did_ soothe
+her.  She understood that Bridgie and Pat were relieving themselves by
+saying all that they felt, _more_ than they felt, and that presently the
+storm would pass and the sun shine again.  By to-morrow all bitterness
+would have passed.  She sat in her chair and submitted meekly to be
+lectured and cajoled, wrapped in a shawl, provided with a footstool,
+ordered to bed, supplied with smelling-salts, and even--tentatively--
+with sal-volatile, but she made no attempt to still the storm.  She knew
+that it would be useless!
+
+Finally Pat stumped off to his bedroom, to draft a rough copy of a
+letter intended to be the most scathing communication which had ever
+passed through the post; and Bridgie, very white and shaken, seated
+herself on a chair by her sister's side.
+
+"Pixie, dear--I'm afraid we've not been helpful. ...  I lost my head,
+but it was such a shock.--I flew into a passion without hearing what you
+had to say for yourself. ...  Darling, tell me--tell me honestly--_how
+do you feel_?"
+
+"I feel--" Pixie raised both hands, and moved them up and down above her
+shoulders, as though balancing a heavy load--"as though a great ton
+weight had been rolled off my shoulders. ...  Bridgie!  You are angry; I
+was angry too, but now I've had time to think. ...  There have been two
+and a half years since he went away--that's about nine hundred days. ...
+Bridgie!  If you only knew it--there's not been one day out of all that
+nine hundred when you hadn't more cause to pity me than you have
+to-day!--"
+
+Suddenly, passionately, she burst into tears.
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+Two days later Bridgie Victor returned home.  The need for chaperonage
+was over, and it was abundantly evident that Pixie was in no need of
+consolation.  The first shock of disillusionment over, it was
+pre-eminently relief that she felt--relief from a bond which had weighed
+more and more heavily as time passed by.  If Stanor had come home,
+looking his old self, caring for her, depending on her as he had done
+during the days of their brief engagement, she would have been ready and
+willing to give him her life, but it had been a strange man who had
+entered the sitting-room of the little flat, a man with a strange face,
+and a strange voice, and a heart that belonged to another girl.  Pixie
+was _free_; the bonds which had bound her were loosed, and with each
+hour that passed her liberty became more sweet.  She shared in her
+sister's relief that the understanding with Stanor had been known to no
+one outside the family, for no human girl enjoys being pitied for such
+an experience, and Pixie had her own full share of conceit.  It was
+comforting to know that there would be no talk, no fuss; that she could
+go her way, free from the consciousness of watching eyes.
+
+On the morning of Bridgie's departure two letters arrived by the first
+post, and were read in silence by their respective owners.  Bridgie's
+was in a man's handwriting, and the perusal of its lines brought a flush
+to her cheeks and the glimmer of tears to her eyes.  She put it in her
+pocket when she had finished reading, and remained densely oblivious of
+her sister's hints.
+
+"What does he say?"
+
+"Who?"
+
+"Mr Glynn, of course.  Don't pretend!  I know his writing."
+
+"He's very ... very--I don't know exactly _what_ he is, Pixie.  He is as
+we all were at first--upset!"
+
+"What does he say?"
+
+"Oh, er--er--the usual things.  Sorry.  Ashamed.  It's so difficult for
+him, because, of course, in a certain sense it _is_ his doing. ...
+Naturally, he feels--"
+
+"What does he say?"
+
+"Pixie, _don't_ go on repeating that!  It's stupid.  I've _told_ you!
+And there's a message for you.  He thanks you for _your_ message, (I
+didn't know you had sent one!) and says it was `like you.'  What did you
+say?"
+
+But Pixie did not enlighten her.
+
+"I think he ought to have written to me!" she said decisively.  "After
+all, Bridgie, it is my business, not yours.  I thought he _would_
+write."
+
+Bridgie had the grace to blush.
+
+"But just at first, dear, it is difficult.--He feels it so much.  It's
+easier to a third person.  Later on, in a few months' time, when things
+have settled down, he wants to come north to see us.  It will be easier
+then..."
+
+"Oh!"  Pixie seemed of a sudden as eager to avoid the subject as she had
+been to continue it.  She handed her own letter across the table with a
+short "From Honor!  You may read it," and thereby protected herself
+against the scrutiny of Bridgie's eyes.
+
+The sheet was covered with a large, straggling handwriting, and Pixie,
+reading it, had seemed to hear Honor's very voice speaking to her.
+
+  "My dear Patricia,--I guess you may not want to hear from me, but I'm
+  bound to write, and maybe I can say a few things that will help us
+  both.  You're feeling pretty badly at the moment.  But I want you just
+  to realise that I've been feeling that way for a good year back, and
+  to try to see both sides.
+
+  "It began, Patricia, through our both feeling lone and lorn and trying
+  to comfort each other.  You'll recollect you _asked_ me to be good to
+  him!  Things went on all right for a spell, but before we knew where
+  we were that friendship had got to be too important to us both.  There
+  wasn't a thought of disloyalty in it, Patricia, on his part or mine,
+  and the very first time I had an inkling of what was happening I went
+  off west for a tour of four months.  I presume it was too late by that
+  time, for when I went home (I was bound to go home!) matters didn't
+  seem to have mended.  After a while we had it out--it was bound to
+  come some time--and I told Stanor straight he'd either got to make a
+  clean breast of things to you or never see me again.  Up till then, I
+  guess, we'd behaved as well as any two youngsters could have been
+  expected to do under the circumstances, but after that things went to
+  pieces.  He _wouldn't_ tell, and he _couldn't_ keep away!  I'm not
+  defending Stanor.  He's shown up pretty badly over this business.
+  He's been weak, and obstinate, and dishonourable.  I don't delude
+  myself a mite, but, you see, Pixie, I love him!  It's the real thing
+  with both of us this time, and that makes a mighty difference.  I can
+  see his faults and feel sorry about them, but it don't make me love
+  him any the less; and if all my money were to pan out to-morrow he'd
+  be sorry, but he'd love me just the same.  So there it was, Pixie--and
+  a wearing time I've had of it, fighting against his wishes--and my
+  own!  In the end I decided to join some friends and come over to
+  Europe, and leave him to think things over by himself.  Maybe I
+  guessed he'd follow and be forced to meet you.  It's difficult to
+  understand one's own motives at these times.  Anyway, before I knew
+  where I was he'd taken a berth in the same boat, and--here we are!
+
+  "Stanor says you have grown-up, and look different.  You are both
+  different after these years apart, and, anyway, it was a mistake from
+  the beginning, Patricia, and wouldn't have worked out.  Now, _we_ suit
+  each other, and the life we are going to lead will bring out the best
+  in us both!  He seems to you pretty contemptible at this moment, but
+  there's so many sides to one human creature, and that is only one
+  side.  He's got lots of others that are good and true--
+
+  "Yesterday I had an ordeal.  I was introduced to the `Runkle.'  Why
+  didn't I know he was like that?  He was quite courteous--he couldn't
+  be anything else.  But his eyes, (what eyes!) made arches at me, as if
+  to say, `He prefers _her_!' and I felt frozen stiff.  Now I shan't
+  rest satisfied till that man's my friend, but it will take time--
+
+  "Pixie, we're going to be married quite soon--as soon as ever we can
+  fix up the necessary formalities, spend a honeymoon in Switzerland,
+  and get back to our work.  I don't ask to see you--just at the moment
+  it would do no good, but couldn't you just manage to send me a line to
+  melt this stone in my heart?  I'd be so happy if it wasn't there.  But
+  it won't melt till I hear from you, that you understand, and you
+  forgive!
+
+  "Lovingly,--Honor."
+
+Bridgie read and sighed, folded the sheet carefully, and sighed again.
+
+"It's so _difficult_,"--she began.
+
+"What is difficult?"
+
+"To be as angry with people as you would like!" replied Bridgie
+unexpectedly.  "You start by thinking that all the right is on your own
+side, and all the wrong on theirs, and that you're a martyr and they are
+brutes, and that your case is proven and there's not a word that could
+be said in their defence; and then of a sudden--" she lifted the letter
+in her hand--"you get _this_!  And they _have_ a side, and they are not
+brutes; and instead of being angry you have to be--you are forced into
+being--sorry instead!  It does feel hard!  I didn't _want_ to be sorry
+for Honor Ward..."
+
+"I'm not sorry for her," said Pixie softly, "I'm glad.  She's going to
+be happy. ...  Bridgie, dear, what can I send her, for a wedding
+present?"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.
+
+PIXIE FINDS HER HAPPINESS.
+
+As soon as Pat had sufficiently recovered, he and Pixie travelled to
+Ireland to spend a few weeks in the old homestead, now blooming in fresh
+beauty under the management of Jack O'Shaughnessy and Sylvia his wife.
+The great hall which had been of old so bare and desolate was now
+embellished with Turkey carpets and tapestried walls: so far as the eye
+could reach there was not one shabby, nor broken, nor patched-up
+article; in sight; the damp and fusty odour which had filled the great
+drawing-room, and which for years had been associated with State
+apartments in Pixie's youthful mind, was a thing of the past.  Even in
+the chilliest weather the room remained warm, for electric radiators,
+cunningly hidden from sight, dispelled the damp, and were kept turned on
+night and day, "whether they were needed, or whether they were not," to
+the delight and admiration of the Irish staff.  For pure extravagance,
+for pure pagan delight in extravagance, the Irishman _and_ woman are
+hard to beat.  The very warmth and generosity of their nature makes it
+abhorrent to them to stint in any direction, which is one reason, out of
+many, for the prevailing poverty of the land.
+
+Jack and Sylvia made delightful hosts, and it was a very happy and a
+very merry quartette which passed those spring days together in Knock
+Castle.  They were complete in themselves, and any suggestion of "a
+party" was instantly vetoed by the visitors, who announced their desire
+to remain "just as we are."
+
+Sylvia and Pixie rode or drove about the country, pulling up every half
+mile or so to chat with cottagers, who were all eager to see Miss Pixie,
+to invoke blessings on her head, and--begging her honour's pardon!--to
+sigh a sigh for the memory of the times that were no more.
+
+On frequent occasions this same curious, and to English-bred Sylvia,
+inexplicable regret for the days of old was manifested by the dwellers
+on the country-side.  "_What did they want_?" she asked herself
+impatiently.  "What could they wish for that had not already been done?"
+Repaired cottages, improved sanitation, higher wages, perquisites
+without number--since the new reign all these things had been bestowed
+upon these ungratefuls, and still they dared to regret the past!
+
+Sylvia had not yet grasped the fact that her birth and upbringing made a
+chasm between herself and her tenants which no kindness could span.
+They would burn her peat, waste her food, accept, and more or less waste
+again, all that she chose to bestow, but given a choice between the
+present days of plenty and the lean, bare years of the reign of the
+jovial "Major" and his brood, they would enthusiastically have acclaimed
+the latter's return.
+
+Occasionally something of the same spirit would manifest itself in the
+O'Shaughnessys themselves, as when Jack's voice would take on an
+apologetic tone in telling his brother of some improvement in the
+estate, or Pixie gazing at the old Persian carpet in the dining-room
+would sigh regretfully, "There _used_ to be a hole!"  On such occasions
+Sylvia was sometimes forced to depart on a visit to the nursery and
+relieve her feelings by a stamp _en route_.  When she returned Jack's
+twinkling eyes would search her face, and he would take an early
+opportunity of passing her chair and touching her with a caressing hand,
+and once more all would be peace and joy.
+
+Jack and his wife heard from Pat's lips all details as to Stanor Vaughan
+and his approaching marriage, but to Pixie herself the subject was never
+mentioned.
+
+"Anyway, she's not fretting!" said Jack.  "Never saw her brighter and
+happier.  Bless her big, little heart!  I'm thankful the fellow has
+taken himself out of her way.  She'd never have given him up of her own
+accord.  We've all been so happy in our marriages that we can't stand
+any second-bests for Pixie!  When are _you_ going to settle down, old
+chap?"
+
+"Oh, about next June year," replied Pat calmly.  "Always said I would
+about twenty-eight.  Nice time of year, too, for a honeymoon!"
+
+"But ... but..."  Jack stammered in surprise.  "Have you met the girl?"
+
+"My good man!  Dozens!  There's no difficulty there.  Faith, I love them
+all!" sighed handsome Pat.
+
+Well, it was a happy holiday, but there was no sadness when it came to
+an end, for Pat was ready and eager to get back to work, and Pixie to
+the northern town which meant Bridgie and home.  Brother and sister
+parted with mutual protestations of gratitude and appreciation, and with
+several quite substantial castles in the air as regards future meetings,
+and within a few days both had settled down to the routine of ordinary
+life.
+
+"Pixie is just the same.  All this business has not altered her at all,"
+Captain Victor said to his wife, and Bridgie smiled at him, the same
+sort of loving, indulgent smile which she bestowed on her small son when
+he guilelessly betrayed his ignorance.
+
+_She_ knew that Pixie _had_ altered, felt the alteration every day of
+her life, in a subtle, indefinite manner which had escaped the masculine
+observation.  There was a certain expression which in quiet moments had
+been wont to settle on the young face, an expression of repression and
+strain, which now appeared to have departed for good, a certain reserve
+in touching upon any subject connected with love and marriage, which was
+now replaced by eager interest and sympathy.  Gradually, also, as the
+months rolled on there came moments when a very radiance of happiness
+shone out of the grey eyes, and trilled in the musical voice.  The time
+of Stephen Glynn's visit was drawing near; another week, and he would
+actually arrive.  What would be the result of that visit?  Bridgie could
+not tell.  In a matter so important she dared not take any definite
+role, but in her prayers that week she implored the Divine Father to
+send to the dearly loved little sister that which He in His wisdom knew
+to be _best_.
+
+And then, as usual, Pixie did the unexpected thing.  The sisters were
+sitting together at tea the day before Stephen was expected, when
+suddenly she looked across the room, and said as quietly and naturally
+as if she had been asking the time--
+
+"Do ye think now, Bridgie, that he will ask me to marry him?"
+
+Bridgie started.  Up to her cheeks flew the red.  It was she who was
+embarrassed, she who stammered and crumbled the hem of the tablecloth.
+
+"My dear, I don't know!  How should I?  How can I possibly know?"
+
+"I didn't ask you if you knew.  I asked if you _thought_."
+
+"I--don't know what to think. ...  I know what he _wants_!  But he is so
+sensitive, so humble about himself.  He thinks he is too old, and ...
+and his lameness--he exaggerates things all round.  From what he said to
+me in that letter--"
+
+"That letter you wouldn't show me?"
+
+"Yes.  I couldn't, Pixie!  It was in confidence, and besides, he said
+nothing _definite_.  It was only inferred.  It's just because he
+idealises you so much that he thinks he is not worthy.  No one can tell
+what a man will do when it comes to the time, but what he _means_ to do
+is evidently--to say nothing!"
+
+"Oh!" said Pixie.  She nibbled a fragment of cake for a thoughtful
+moment, and then said calmly--
+
+"So now I know.  Thank you, Bridgie.  _Please_ don't say any more!"
+
+"No, darling, no, I won't; only please just one thing--it has puzzled me
+so much, and I have longed to know. ...  There's never been any reserve
+between us--you have confided in me so openly all your life till just
+these last years.  _Why_ didn't you tell me you were unhappy about
+Stanor?"
+
+"How could I, me dear, when I might be his wife?  It wouldn't have been
+loyal.  And it wasn't unhappiness exactly, only--a weight.  I was
+_trying_ to keep on loving him, and hating myself for finding it
+difficult, but I knew if he came back loving me, and wanting me to help
+him, the weight would go.  But you see, he didn't!"
+
+"Pixie, dear, one should not need to _try_.  That sort of love ought to
+feel no strain."
+
+"If Stanor had needed me, I should have married him," Pixie said
+obstinately, "but he didn't, and, me dear, excuse me!  It's not the most
+agreeable subject. ...  Let's talk of something else."
+
+The next day Stephen Glynn arrived, and put up at an hotel.  An
+agricultural show which was being held in the town made an excuse for
+his visit; it also made a vantage ground for daily excursions, and gave
+opportunities of securing _tete-a-tete_ to those anxious to do so.
+Pixie was conscious that several such opportunities had in Stephen's
+case been of intent ignored and allowed to pass by, but never once did
+she doubt the motive which prompted such neglect.  From the moment of
+their meeting the consciousness of his love had enveloped her.  He might
+set a seal on his lips, but he could not control his eyes, and the
+wistfulness of that glance made Pixie brave.
+
+Almost the first opportunity for undisturbed conversation came on the
+afternoon of the third day, when Stephen paid an unexpected call at the
+house to propose an expedition for the evening, and found Pixie alone.
+
+She was sitting writing in the pretty, flower-decked room, where the
+French window opened wide to the garden beyond.  It was only a mite of a
+garden, not big enough for even a tennis-court, but so much love and
+ingenuity had been lavished on its arrangement that it had an
+astonishing air of space.  The flower-covered trellis at the end had an
+air of being there because it chose, and not in the least because it
+marked an arbitrary division of land.  The one big tree made an oasis of
+shade, and had a low circular seat round its trunk, and the flowers
+bloomed in grateful recognition of favours bestowed.
+
+There are points in which the small garden has a pull over the large.
+Its owner can, for instance, remember just how many blooms a special
+plant afforded last summer, and feel a glow of pride in the extra two of
+the present season; she can water them herself, tie up their drooping
+heads, snip off the dead flowers, know them, and love them in an
+intimate, personal way which is impossible in the large,
+professionally-run gardens.  Bridgie's garden this summer afternoon made
+a very charming background for the figure of Pixie in her white dress,
+with the jaunty blue band round her waist, and a little knot to match
+fastening her muslin Peter Pan collar.  She looked very young and fresh
+and dainty, and the wistful expression deepened on Stephen's face as he
+looked at her.
+
+For the first few minutes conversation was difficult, for the
+consciousness of being alone seemed rather to close the way to personal
+subjects than to open it.  Stephen was grave and distrait, Pixie
+embarrassed and nervous, but the real deep sympathy between them made it
+impossible that such an atmosphere should continue.  Before ten minutes
+had passed Pixie's laugh had sounded with the characteristic gurgle
+which was the very embodiment of merriment, and Stephen was perforce
+laughing in response.  He had never been able to resist Pixie's laugh.
+Tea was brought in, and the young hostess did the honours with a pretty
+hospitality.  It was the first meal of which they had partaken _a deux_,
+and its homely intimacy brought back the wistful look into Stephen's
+eyes.  Perhaps Pixie noticed it, perhaps a point had been reached when
+she felt it impossible to go on talking generalities; in any case, she
+laid down her cup, straightened herself in her chair with an air of
+preparing for something big and momentous, and announced clearly--
+
+"I had a letter this morning from Honor Vaughan."
+
+Stephen Glynn started, and his face hardened.  The subject was evidently
+unwelcome to the point of pain.
+
+"She writes to _you_?"
+
+"I write to her!  Of course she answers.  I was always fond of Honor."
+
+"Possibly.  Before her marriage.  As Stanor's wife, however--"
+
+Pixie bent forward, looking him full in the face.
+
+"I have no quarrel with Stanor's wife.  I was angry with _him_.  There
+was something in me which he hurt very much.--I think," she slightly
+shrugged her shoulder, and a flicker of a smile passed over her face,
+and was gone, "'twas my pride!  It hurt to think he had been _forced_ to
+come back.  If he'd trusted me and told the truth it would have saved
+suffering for us--all!  At the time I felt I could never forgive him,
+but that passed.  I don't say I can ever think of him as I did before,
+as quite honest and true, but--" The smile flashed back.  "Can _you_ go
+on being angry, yourself?"
+
+"I--don't think," said Stephen slowly, "that `angry' is the right word.
+I'm disappointed--disappointed with a bitterness which has its root in
+ten long years of hope and effort.  Practically I have lived my life
+through that boy.  My great object and desire was to secure for him all
+that I had missed.  I had made no definite promises, it seemed wiser
+not, but in effect he was my heir, and all I have would have gone to
+him.  Now that's over!  The future has been taken from me, as well as
+the past.  America has absorbed him.  He has already, through his wife,
+more money than he can use, and the role of an English country gentleman
+has lost its attractions for him.  There was a time in my first outburst
+of indignation when I should have felt it a relief to have had some
+power of retaliation, but, as you say, that passed. ...  He was the only
+person whom I could in any sense claim as my own, and--I've lost him!
+He is independent of me now.  I can do no more for him."  The dark eyes
+were full of pain.  "That is, after all, the thing that hurts the most.
+The lad has faults, but I loved him.  I lived through him; now I can do
+no more, and our lives fall apart.  There's a big blank!"
+
+Pixie did not answer.  Her face was very pale; in her ears was a loud
+thudding noise, which seemed mysteriously to be inside her own breast.
+
+"As for his wife, she may be a good girl--she appears to have behaved in
+an honourable fashion--but to me it's a new type, and I can't pretend
+that I'm not prejudiced.  There is only one thing that is satisfactory.
+The boy is honestly in love, even to the extent of abandoning his career
+to assist in the management of a pickle factory."
+
+There was an inflection in the tone in which these last words were
+pronounced which brought Pixie's eyes upon him in reproach.
+
+"They are very _good_ pickles!  I can't see that making them is any less
+dignified than `bulling' and `bearing' cotton--whatever that may mean!--
+Stanor used to write of it in his letters.  Honor's father loved his
+workmen, and made her promise to go on looking after them as he had
+done.  She doesn't need any more money; it would be easier for her to
+retire and hand over the factory to some one else.  It's for the men's
+sake that she keeps it on, and to keep her promise to her father.  Mr
+Glynn, you _must_ love Honor.  She's good, and true, and honourable, and
+she's--Stanor's wife!"
+
+"How could he?  How could he?"  Stephen rose impetuously, and began
+pacing up and down, a rare excitement growing in voice and manner.
+"When he could have had _You_! ...  Good?  Yes!  She may be good--I'm
+not denying the girl's good points.  She has behaved well.  She has her
+attractions--Stanor evidently thinks her beautiful--but--_he might have
+had You_! ...  He has chosen this girl with her ordinary attractions,
+instead of _your_ sweetness, _your_ sunshine, _your_ generosity, _your_
+kindness!  Your voice, Pixie; your eyes ...  Your _love_!  He was so
+blind ... so deaf. ...  The substance was his, and for a shadow--a poor,
+faint shadow--"
+
+Pixie had risen in her turn.  Red as a rose she stood before him, with
+shrinking eyes, but hands held out in sweet, courageous invitation.
+
+"If ye think so much of me as all that," said the deep voice
+breathlessly, "_wouldn't ye like me for yourself_?"
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+Ten minutes later the miracle, the wonder, was as marvellous as ever: as
+incredible to the man whose life was suddenly irradiated with sunshine.
+
+"Pixie!  Pixie!" he cried.  "My youth! ...  Will you give it back to me,
+sweetheart--the youth that I lost?"
+
+"Beloved!" said Pixie, and her voice was as the swell of a deep organ
+note.  "It was not lost.  It's been waiting for you--" she touched her
+heart with an eloquent gesture--"here!"
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Love Affairs of Pixie, by 
+Mrs George de Horne Vaizey
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