Pixie O'Shaughnessy Part 24

Miss Phipps talked on and on, saying comforting words in that new sweet voice, and Mademoiselle put her arms fondly round the little figure and said--

"You will be brave, _cherie_. You are always brave! All the O'Shaughnessys are brave--your Bridgie told me so, and said it was the pride of the family! You will not be the first to act like a coward.

No!" But the shock was too sudden to be borne with resignation.

"We haven't got any family now! How can you have a family without a father? He wouldn't have died if I had been at home. He was always cheerful when I was with him, and he said himself I was better than a doctor. Oh, Major, Major! Oh, Bridgie, Bridgie! Me heart's broken!

Me heart's broken!"

Pixie wept and wailed, and presently Miss Phipps stopped trying to console, and let her weep her fill, knowing well that the noisy grief is never the most lasting, and that when the first pa.s.sion was exhausted she would be more ready for comfort. She had purposely delayed telling the sad news until tea was over, and presently it would be time for bed, when the sleep of childhood would drop its soothing curtain over grief.

Pixie lay on the sofa, and cried until her face was swollen and she was too exhausted to cry any longer, and Miss Phipps was just about to propose a move to bed when, to her amazement, the child suddenly put her feet to the ground, sat up, and said faintly--

"I want to see the girls!"

Well, after all, it was a natural request, for the bent of a lifetime does not change in moments of grief, and Pixie was a sociable little creature, who must needs have someone in whom to confide on every occasion. Miss Phipps realised as much, and also that companions of her own age would be better comforters than the teachers, between whom and the pupils there was naturally a great gulf fixed; so she a.s.sented at once, saying only--

"I will come for you in ten minutes. You must not stay downstairs longer than that," and Pixie feebly tottered across the hall to the room where the elder girls were sitting. She chose to join them rather than the pupils of her own age, for, as she had previously explained, she had been accustomed to "grown-ups" at home, and felt more interest in their society. The girls raised their heads with starts of surprise as she entered, and came slowly forward to seat herself in a chair. They stared at her with melancholy eyes, but there was a dead silence, for no one knew what to say or how to say it, so they sat in a row facing her, and Pixie blinked and trembled, and screwed her fingers together in a tight little knot.

"I'm an orphan!" she said faintly, and five separate sobs of sympathy sounded as replies.

"Poor little kid!" said Kate gruffly.

"D-arling!" sobbed Flora.

"But we all love you, Pixie! Everyone loves you! You can't be lonely, dear, when you have so many friends," said Margaret's soft voice; and a hand stretched out and clutched hers in convulsive energy. It was Lottie's hand, and Lottie's face was trembling as if she were going to cry, and a pulse on her temple was beating up and down, Pixie looked at her curiously, and realised that, sorry as the others were, she was somehow sorriest of all, and most anxious to comfort. Lottie had been much subdued and silent since the beginning of the term, and had seemed, if anything, to avoid the society of the girl whom she had treated so badly, but with her fine intuition Pixie had understood quite well that the avoidance arose from no lack of affection. She held Lottie's hand in a tight pressure while she continued her broken sentences.

"And I didn't know he was going to die. They never told me. Miss Phipps says they didn't want me to be unhappy, but I'd rather have known. He wasn't like other people's fathers. They are old, with grey hair; he was young--like a boy, and so handsome and gay. He always laughed, even if things went wrong, and I was the youngest, and he wouldn't have me thwarted. No one ever appreciated me like the Major.

The very last words he spoke were praising me and saying what a daughter I'd been!"

"When you said 'Good-bye,' you mean. That's good to think of, isn't it, Pixie? He knew he would never see you again, and that afterwards you would remember all he said, and treasure it in your heart, and the sweetest thing of all is to know that you were a joy and pleasure to him. It is a comfort to think that he is well again, isn't it? Quite well and happy in heaven!"

"I want him on earth!" said Pixie, and the tears flowed down her cheeks.

"We all want him. What is to become of us without our father? I feel as if I could never be happy again, but he said I must be. 'Be as happy as you can,' he said, 'and make other people happy too. Never trouble a bit about your lessons, but go on loving and making sunshine, and you'll do a great work in the world.' Those were the very last words I heard him speak."

It was a somewhat free translation, so far as lessons were concerned, and the girls realised as much, being accustomed to Pixie and her ways, but they allowed that part of the story to pa.s.s without comment, and referred only to what was obviously a literal repet.i.tion.

"Well, then, of course, you must obey his last words! It would not be like a good daughter if you didn't. You must go on loving us, and making us happy, and we shall all be wretched if we see you fretting.

You do make us happy, you know, Pixie! We have been ever so much livelier since you came. I think it ought to cheer anyone to know that she can make thirty-three people happy, don't you, now?"

"Can I--can I really?" Pixie inquired wistfully. "I'm glad of that, and I will try, but I can't help fretting a little first! I don't think the Major would like it if I didn't fret for him." And at this moment Miss Phipps came into the room and put an end to the conference.

"I can't let you sit up a moment longer, you weary little girl! Say 'Good-night' at once, and one of the girls shall go upstairs with you, and help you to undress. Which will you have?"

Pixie looked from one to the other of her companions with uncertain gaze. Where everyone was so kind it was hard to choose. Ethel had not tossed her head once since she entered the room; Kate kept taking off her spectacles, and polishing them on her handkerchief; Flora looked so kind and comfortable; the "Bridgie's expression" was stronger than ever in Margaret's eyes; but there was a something in Lottie's face--a humble, wistful longing which was to be found nowhere else.

"Lottie, please!" she cried quickly; and the other girls realised at once that the cure had begun, for Pixie was already forgetting herself, and considering how she could make other people happy!

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

THE SISTERS' VISIT.

Pixie did not go home for the Easter holidays, for everything at the Castle was so sad and unsettled that Bridgie felt it advisable that she should stay away a little longer, and an invitation from Mr and Mrs Vane came as a happy alternative.

On the whole she spent a happy three weeks, thoroughly enjoying the luxury of her surroundings and the attention lavished upon her by every member of the household. Mr Vane still remained grey and serious, but he was unfailingly kind; while his wife belonged to the type designated by schoolgirls as "simple darlings," and seemed to find no greater pleasure in life than in making young people happy. It was evident that they were both devoted to their only remaining child, though there was a reserve in their manner which seemed to Irish Pixie perilously allied to coldness. She was all unconscious that her own fearless intimacy of manner made a precedent for little demonstrations of affection which had hitherto been unknown in the household; but so it was, and her host and hostess felt that they owed her a second debt of grat.i.tude, whenever Lottie volunteered a caress, or added a second kiss to the morning greeting. Perhaps, in their determination to overcome their daughter's faults, they had erred on the side of firmness, and so brought about another temptation in the girl's terror of discovery; and if this were so, what better instrument could have been found to draw them together than fearless, loving, audacious Pixie?

When the time came to return to school, she received many pressing invitations to return to a home where she would always be welcome, and was able truthfully to a.s.sure the girls at Holly House that Lottie had been "an angel" to her throughout the holidays.

After that the ordinary routine went on for a few weeks, broken by nothing more exciting than the weekly letters from home; then came an episode of thrilling interest, when Geoffrey Hilliard was shown into the drawing-room, and Miss O'Shaughnessy summoned from her cla.s.s and sent upstairs to brush her hair, before going to interview him. He was leaning against the mantelpiece as she entered, looking very tall and handsome in his long frock coat, and he was smiling to himself with a curious shiny look in his eyes, which at once arrested Pixie's attention.

"How are you, Pixie? How are you, dear little girl?" he cried gushingly.

Pixie remarked that she was in excellent health, privately not a little taken aback by his fervour. "He seems mighty fond of me, all of a sudden. Over at Bally William he didn't care half so much. I suppose he missed me, after I'd gone!" She smiled at him encouragingly. "And you are looking very well yourself. I'm pleased to see you!"

"I am very well, Pixie. Happiness agrees with me. I'm very happy--the happiest man in the world! Do you know why? I am going to be married.

I came on purpose to tell you. Can you guess who 'She' is?"

"How could I guess? I don't know your friends. There's no one at all that it could be, unless, perhaps--"

Pixie stopped short suddenly, as certain memories darted into her mind.

The extraordinary manner in which Mr Hilliard was always appearing at Knock Castle during the Christmas holidays; his interest in everything Esmeralda did and said; the fixity of his gaze upon the beautiful face.

She gasped and blinked with surprise. "Not--_not_ Esmeralda?"

"Yes, yes, yes! Esmeralda, of course! Clever girl to guess so well!

It was settled only last Wednesday, and she sent me across to tell you first thing, and ask your consent, as she couldn't be properly engaged without it. You see this is an important matter for me, so you really must be kind, for I can't give up Esmeralda, after waiting for her so long. Will you have me for another brother, and let me do all I can to make you happy?"

"I'm glad it isn't Bridgie," sighed Pixie irrelevantly; then, fearing that she had failed in politeness, "But Esmeralda is nice too," she added quickly. "She can't help having a temper, but she won't show it to you, like she did to her brothers and sisters. And she _is_ beautiful! I've seen photographs of people they call beautiful here, and they are frights compared with her. I suppose I can have her room after she's married! It's got one of the turret windows, and I always wanted it because of the view. I hope you will be happy, Mr Hilliard.

It was very kind of you to come and tell me. I'll write and ask Esmeralda if I may be a bridesmaid."

Hilliard laughed, and muttered something about "sisterly candour." He did not seem in the least alarmed at the thought of Esmeralda's temper, and settled the bridesmaid question there and then with the utmost confidence.

"Of course you shall be bridesmaid. The wedding will be in the summer holidays, but you will see your sisters before then. You knew, of course, that they were trying to let the Castle for a few years, until Jack makes his fortune, and goes back to live there himself. Well, I am glad to say a tenant has been found through a lawyer, and that everything is satisfactorily arranged. He takes possession on the first of September, and Bridgie is coming to live in London with Jack and the boys, in a nice little flat, where you can spend your holidays. She said I was to tell you that, and to say that you were not to fret for the Castle, for you would see much more of each other than if she had remained over there. She is coming to town in summer to look for the flat, and Esmeralda is coming too, to buy fineries for the wedding, and then we will all return to Ireland and have a quiet little wedding, and you shall keep Bridgie company when I carry Esmeralda away. That's the summer programme. I hope you approve!"

"I hate the man who's coming to Knock," said Pixie sadly; "but I am glad Bridgie will be near, and it will be lovely on holidays. It must feel strange to live in a flat; like being in a cage. I am sorry for the people beneath, when the boys get romping round. If I were Bridgie, I'd take a house, and then we could make as much noise as we liked. It's no use pretending that we are a quiet family, because we're not. You might think it was an army, to hear us tramp downstairs!"

"I--I think myself that a house would be more suitable!" said Hilliard, smiling his humorous twisted smile; then he asked to see Mademoiselle, and when he said to her in her turn that he had a piece of news to impart, she nodded her head gaily, and cried, "So, so! I 'ope you will be very 'appy!" and could not be induced to say that she was in the least surprised. Pixie hoped that none of the girls would ask about the new brother's business; for, after boasting of possible dukes, it was really rather humiliating to come down to glue! What a comfort that Lottie had turned over a new leaf, and abandoned her sn.o.bbish, inquisitive questionings!

After that it was a case of counting the days until the arrival of the sisters, and Pixie's companions were almost as excited as herself at the prospect of seeing the much-talked-of Bridgie and Esmeralda in the flesh. Miss Joan announced her intention of taking advantage of the July sales to buy her trousseau--a delightful arrangement, for by the time that dressmakers had done their work the holidays would begin, so that the girls could be present at the great breaking-up festival, and afterwards act as companions on the journey home. Pixie's elastic spirits went up with a bound, and every week they grew higher and higher, until at last it became a question of days, and Bridgie's letter must needs be addressed to Jack's lodgings instead of Knock Castle, for by the time it was delivered the dear visitors would have arrived in town.

"Please come to see me soon," ran the letter, "and be sure to look your nicest, because of the girls! They all want to see you, and I've told them such lots about you. Please ask Miss Phipps to let me come out often. Wednesday is the best day, because it's half-holiday, only I should like other days better, because I should get off prep. Please wear your best clothes!"

The two sisters laughed heartily over this missive, but Pixie's word was law, and as usual they obeyed her instructions to the letter. A telegram was sent off next morning to announce the hour in the afternoon at which they hoped to call, and the morning was spent to such good purpose that two most elegant and fashionable-looking young ladies drove up to Holly House shortly before four o'clock. The third-form girls were, to a man, peeping through the curtains of their cla.s.sroom; Ethel had left her music in the drawing-room, and rushed downstairs to reclaim it the moment the door-bell rang; Kate suddenly felt it impossible to live without a clean handkerchief, and on her way upstairs waited round the corner of the hall until she could meet the visitors face to face; Flora peeped through the banisters, and snored so loudly in her excitement that she was in instant danger of discovery; and Pixie rushed like a whirlwind from the top of the house, and flung herself into Bridgie's arms.

They hugged and kissed, and kissed and hugged again, and fell apart to gaze with eyes that suddenly brimmed with tears. No need to ask the cause! The remembrance of the Major was in each heart, but Bridgie dried her eyes, and said, as if answering the unspoken lament--

"But we have so much to be thankful for! Such a splendid let for the Castle, and Jack so good, trying to find work for the boys, and Geoffrey like another brother, and Esmeralda so happy."

No question about that! Esmeralda was radiant, more beautiful than ever, and astonishingly grand. So was Bridgie! The little sister gazed from one to the other with kindling eyes. Black dresses with tails to them; fluffy gauze boas with ends floating to the knees; hats that were not hats, but crinkled, brimless things like the Surbiton ladies wore in the afternoons, and so light and gauzy that they might have been blown away with a breath.