Pixie O'Shaughnessy Part 3

"Cer-tain-ly not! The very idea!" cried Eleanor once more. "I never heard of anything so silly. Why on earth should one sit up shivering to eat things in the middle of the night, when one can have them comfortably downstairs at the right hour? I should not think of doing anything so foolish."

Pixie sighed heavily. This was England indeed! For the first time since entering the house she realised that she was a stranger in a strange land. Eleanor's calm commonsense was so entirely foreign to her nature that she felt a distinct chilling of the new affection. The companion on her right looked more sympathetic, and she addressed her next remark in that direction.

"We were for ever playing tricks on one another at home. Bridgie and Esmeralda sleep in the same bed, and one day Pat--that's the second boy--the next but one to me--he went to Bridgie and he says, 'I've played a fine joke on Esmeralda! Ask no questions, but just wait up until she gets into bed to-night, and you'll have the best laugh you've had this side Christmas.' Then off he goes to Esmeralda, and 'Keep a secret!' says he. 'Let Bridget be the first to get into bed to-night.

Make an excuse and sit up yourself to see the fun, for she'll have a fine surprise when she lies down.' The girls guessed that they had been taking the laths off the bed, as they had done once or twice before, to let a visitor fall through on to the floor, and it was a very cold night, and they were tired, for they had been working hard mending the staircase carpet; and says Bridgie to Esmeralda, 'Just hurry up, can't you! I never did see such a girl for dawdling. Get into bed,' she says, 'and don't sit up all night.' 'Oh,' says Esmeralda, smiling, 'I've a fancy to brush out me hair. Take no notice of me, but just lie down and turn your face to the wall, and I'll be as quiet as a mouse.'

'I never can sleep with a light in the room,' says Bridgie, quite testy... I was in my own bed in the dressing-room, so I heard what they said, and was stuffing the bedclothes into my mouth not to laugh out, and spoil the fun. 'If you are going to make a night of it, I'll sit down and read, and you can let me know when you are ready.' 'You will catch cold sitting in that draught!' Esmeralda says, her own teeth chattering, for it was mortal cold, and there was a hole in the window above her head, where Pat had thrown up a stone when he wanted to wake her one morning, and couldn't spare time to walk upstairs. 'And you know, Bridget, you are always delicate on the chest.' 'It'll be on your head, then,' says Bridgie, 'if I _am_ made ill, keeping me up when I'm longing for my bed! Come, dear,' wheedling her to see if she could get round that way, 'leave it alone now, and I'll brush it for you in the morning. It is beautiful hair, and Mrs Gallagher the laundress was saying to me this morning there wasn't its match in the country.' And Esmeralda said afterwards that she was too cold for compliments, so she up and said it was her own hair, and she'd brush it when she liked, and how she liked, without interference from anyone; and at that they grew mad, and began quarrelling with each other, and throwing up everything that ever they did since they were short-coated, and meself lying trembling on me bed, to think what would happen next. Joan--that's Esmeralda--she would have sat up all night, she's that obstinate, but Bridgie grew tired, and says she, 'I'm not going to catch me death shivering here for all the jokes on earth, so here goes, and I don't care what happens!' and with that she throws herself down on the bed; and--would ye believe it?--nothing happened at all. The bed was as right as it had been all its life, and the boys had had their joke without any trouble."

Pixie finished in the midst of a dead silence, for one by one the speakers round the table had paused to listen to the soft Irish voice, and the story once begun had riveted attention. Some of the girls laughed outright, some held down their heads to conceal their smiles, some nudged their companions and looked demurely at Miss Phipps to take their cue from her face. She was undoubtedly smiling, but she looked worried all the same, and gave the signal for rising in a hurried manner, as if anxious to allow no time for comment. The girls rose and filed slowly past, Pixie skipping complacently in front, with her arm round another new friend, whom she was prepared to adore even more fondly than the last. Only Margaret remained behind to a.s.sist in putting the room in order, and when the door shut Miss Phipps looked at her under raised appealing brows.

"I am afraid we have rather a difficult subject there, Margaret! Poor little thing! Her father says she has been allowed to run wild, and it will be difficult for her to get into school ways. She doesn't mean to be forward, but of course we can't allow her to go on like this. She must be taught wholesome respect and reticence, but I don't want to be too hard upon her at first. She's a lovable little creature, and I've no doubt will be a favourite with the girls. They like to be amused, and I fear they may encourage her for the sake of their own amus.e.m.e.nt.

You must help me, dear, by setting a good example and checking her gently when she gets excited."

"I'll try!" said Margaret, but she looked by no means hopeful of success. "I did try before tea. She was telling the most extraordinary tales about home, and I said it was not right to repeat such things, but she seemed quite puzzled. She doesn't seem to have the same ideas that we have, or the same feelings about things."

Miss Phipps sighed, and shook her head.

"She is a difficult subject," she repeated anxiously; then her face lighted up suddenly and she began to laugh. "But you can't help liking her!" she cried. "Funny little mite! I am growing quite fond of her already."

CHAPTER FIVE.

THE ALICE PRIZE.

To the surprise of all concerned, Pixie took a very fair place in the school. The sorely tried Miss Minnitt was by no means an accomplished woman, but what she did know she taught well, and she felt rewarded for her efforts when she heard that Miss Bruce, the English teacher, had remarked that Pixie had been well grounded, and knew more than many girls of her age. The mixture of knowledge and ignorance which the child displayed was indeed incomprehensible to those who did not understand the conditions under which she had lived. She was quite a botanist in a small way, could discourse like any farmer on crops and tillages, was most sporting in her descriptions of shooting and hunting, and had an exhaustive understanding of, and sympathy with, the animal world, which seemed quite uncanny to town-bred girls. Here, however, her knowledge stopped, and of the ways of the world, the hundred and one restrictions and obligations of society which come as second nature to most girls, she knew no more than a South Sea Islander dancing gaily upon the sands, and stringing sh.e.l.ls in her dusky locks. "I wish I was born a savage!" was indeed her daily reflection, as she b.u.t.toned her tight little frock, and wriggled to and fro in a vain search for comfort.

"Now listen to me!" said Miss Bruce, at the end of the examination which was conducted after breakfast the day following Pixie's arrival. "I am undecided which of two cla.s.ses you shall join, so I am going to give you the choice. The under-fourth would be comparatively easy, the upper- fourth would mean real hard work. I think you could manage it, if you worked hard and determined to do your very, very best; but I tell you frankly it will not be easy. If you would rather have a term in the lower cla.s.s and work up gradually, I am willing to let it be so; but you must realise that it will be less good for yourself. You seem to have a good memory and to learn quickly; but we don't like to force girls beyond their strength. You would be the youngest girl in the upper- fourth."

That decided the matter! Pixie's heart had sunk at the mention of work; but the ecstatic prospect of being the baby of a cla.s.s, of writing home to boast of her position, and of reminding her elders at frequent intervals of her own precocious cleverness, was too tempting to be resisted. She pleaded eagerly for the upper-fourth, and came through the first morning's ordeal with gratifying success. But, alas!

afternoon brought a change of scene, for the girls retired to the schoolroom for "prep," and the new cla.s.s-member stared in dismay at the work before her.

"Is it for next week we are to learn it?" she asked, and when the answer came, "For to-morrow," she shrieked aloud in dismay. "What! The lot of it? Grammar, and arithmetic, and geography? All those pages, an'

pages, and pages! I couldn't finish to-day if I sat up all night!

You're joking with me! It isn't really and truly for to-morrow morning?"

"It is indeed, my dear, worse luck! Miss Bruce gives a terrible amount of prep, and you are bound to get through somehow. Sometimes it is worse than this, and you feel simply frantic. You are not allowed to go on after seven o'clock either, so there is no hope for you if you are not finished by that time."

"Don't frighten her, Dora," said Kate kindly. She looked through her spectacles at Pixie's woe-begone face, and smiled encouragement. "It seems hopeless at first, but you will get accustomed to it in time. I used to be in despair, but you get into the way of learning quickly, and picking out the things that are most important. There's no time for talking, though. Open your grammar and begin at once."

"Hate grammar!" grumbled Pixie crossly. "What's the use of it? I can talk as well as I want to without bothering about grammar, and I don't understand it either! Silly gibberish!"

She wished with all her heart at that moment that she had been content with the seclusion of the lower-fourth; but she was not allowed to talk any more, for Clara called out an impatient "Hush!" and Florence stuck her fingers in her ears and looked so savage that it was impossible to disregard the warning. Pixie read over the tiresome grammar, and then lay back in her seat studying the furniture of the room, and deciding on the improvements which she would make if Miss Phipps asked her advice on the subject of redecoration. It was an engrossing subject, and would have kept her happily occupied for quite a long time, had not Kate jerked her elbow as a reminder, and pointed significantly to the history. She had mentally const.i.tuted herself as friend-in-need to the new cla.s.smate, and was determined to do her duty by her, however little thanks she might receive; so she nudged, and nudged again, until Pixie resentfully opened the history book in its turn.

History was interesting--it was just like a story! When the prescribed portion had been read, she was anxious to learn what happened next, and read on and on until the watchful Kate suspected something wrong, and forcibly confiscated the book.

"What are you reading the next chapter for? A minute ago you were groaning because you had too much to do. Finish the work that is given you before trying to do more!"

"But there was an execution coming on. I love executions!" sighed Pixie miserably. "This is the best bit of the whole history, for there's no more fun when you get to the Georges. They never have any murders, nor plots, nor blowings up."

"You will get blown up if you interrupt like this! How do you suppose I can learn with you chattering away all the time?" cried Clara, the irascible. She glared at Pixie, and Pixie glared at her, and went on glaring long after the other had settled to work, with an intentness which seemed mysteriously connected with the movement of a stubbly lead pencil. Presently she touched Kate softly, and there on the margin of the clean new book was exhibited the drawing of a dismembered head, glaring horribly over rule-of-three problems, and labelled "Clara" in largest round hand. It was a very juvenile effort, but drawing was a family talent among the O'Shaughnessys, and the artist had been sharp to note the weak points of her subject, as well as to exaggerate them with cruel honesty. The high forehead was doubled in height, the long upper lip stretched to abnormal length, the blots which did duty for eyes were really marvellously, astonishingly like Clara's in expression! Kate pressed her handkerchief against her mouth, but the sound of her splutters was distinctly audible, and her companions looked up in amazement. Kate laughing during prep was a sight which had never been witnessed before, and they stared at her in mingled surprise and envy.

"What's the joke?" asked Marjorie wistfully. "You might share it, I think, for I feel as if I should never smile again until the holidays.

If there is anything amusing in these lessons to-night, I should like to have it pointed out, that's all!"

"It's n-n-thing!" returned Kate, spluttering still. Pixie had flipped over a page with a deft movement, and sat with hands folded on her lap, a picture of lamblike innocence.

For the rest of the time allowed for preparation she worked really well, inspired by the remembrance that she had made Kate laugh, and drawn a caricature which even Esmeralda herself must have approved.

About half-past seven came supper, and after supper prayers, and after prayers bed, and an interesting conversation with the three room-mates.

"Which is the nicest girl in the school?" Pixie asked, going at once to the most important point, and fondly hoping that she might listen to her own name by way of answer. She was doomed to disappointment, however, for though there was a difference of opinion, her name was not even mentioned.

"Margaret!" said Kate.

"Lottie!" cried Flora.

"Clara!" cried Ethel; and they proceeded to argue the question between themselves.

"Margaret is an angel. She is sweet to everyone. She never says an unkind word."

"Lottie is so bright and clever. She is first in almost every single cla.s.s."

"Clara is so sensible. She doesn't make a fuss, and gush over everything, as Lottie does; but if she says she will be your friend, she keeps her word, and always tries to do you a good turn."

"That's the way with meself," said Pixie modestly. "I'm the soft- heartedest creature! You three girls are me best friends because ye share me room, and I'll stick to you, whatever trouble ye're in. Ye need never be afraid to come to me, for the worse ye are, the better I'll like ye!"

"Ho, ho, ho!" laughed Kate shrilly. Flora chuckled to herself in fat, good-natured fashion, and Ethel tossed her mane and said--

"I can quite believe it, but if you will excuse my saying so, I think the trouble is more likely to come to you than to us! If you go on behaving as you have done the last two days, you will be in need of friends yourself, my dear, so don't say I haven't warned you."

"Behaving as I have done! Get into trouble meself!" echoed Pixie blankly. "And what for, please? What have I done? I promised Bridgie before I left that I would behave meself, and not disgrace the family, and I've kept me word. I've not been naughty once the whole time through."

"Don't say 'naughty,' child, as if you were a baby two years old! You may not have done anything wrong from your point of view, but you have broken half a dozen rules all the same. You planted yourself in front of the fire when the fifth-form girls were in the room, and never offered to give up your place even when Margaret herself came in. Not one of the old girls would think of doing such a thing. And you answered back when Miss Phipps spoke to you at tea--and told a story so loud that everyone could hear!"

"And small blame to me if I did! It _was_ the dullest meal I ever sat through, and I thought I would do you a kindness by waking you up!"

returned Pixie defiantly. She did not at all approve of Clara's att.i.tude of fault-finding, and was up in arms at once in her own defence. "I have been brought up to make meself agreeable, and when Miss Phipps spoke to me, wasn't I obliged to give a civil answer? And I was cold when I sat before the fire. Are fifth-form girls colder than anyone else, that they must have all the heat?"

"You know perfectly well what I mean, or if you don't, you are a stupid child, and you needn't fly into a temper when I tell you your mistakes.

You want to get on, I suppose, and take a good place in the school, so you ought to be grateful to anyone who tries to keep you out of trouble."

In the seclusion of her cubicle Pixie made a grimace, the reverse of appreciative, but she stifled her feelings in her desire for information, and asked the next question on her list.

"How often in the year do you get prizes?"

"Once. At the end of the summer term. There's a chance for you now!

Work hard for six months, and win the cla.s.s prize!"

Flora chuckled with amus.e.m.e.nt at the idea, but Pixie considered the subject seriously for a good two minutes, and found it altogether agreeable. She saw a vision of herself walking forward to receive her honours while the elder girls sat in a row, subdued and envious, and tasted in advance the ecstasy of the moment.