More about Pixie Part 17

Jack stroked his moustache with a look of lamb-like innocence, and Sylvia could have shaken herself with annoyance because she could not help blus.h.i.+ng and looking stupid and self-conscious. Pixie's melodious gurgle sounded from the background, and Viva cried severely--

"You couldn't have seen her, because she lived hundreds and hundreds of years ago, when you were a teeny baby. Golden hair down to her feet, and her teef were like pearls, and all the G.o.dfathers and G.o.dmuzzers came to the christening and gave her nice presinks, only one wicked old mugian who--"

"Pardon me! One wicked old--?"

"Mugian! He's a man what does things. They always have them in stories--that the mamma had forgotten to ask, so he was angry and said she should tumble downstairs when she was grown-up and be lame ever after till a beautiful prince made her better. Oh, but I shouldn't have told you that jest now. You must pitend that you forget I have told you. So then the beautiful princess--her true name was Mabel, but only I call her Norah because her hair was gold--"

Now it was Jack's turn to gasp and search in vain for the connection between Norah and golden hair! It proved as impossible to discover as that between a sore throat and the Piper of Hamelin, but there was another allusion in the story which was too fortunate to be allowed to pa.s.s unnoticed.

"The princess was lame, was she? and no one could make her better but the prince? That's very interesting. Could you tell me, now, how he managed the cure? It might be useful to me someday."

"Was your princess a lame princess?"

"I think you had better go on with your story, Viva!" Jack said hurriedly. "Your mother may call you away before it is finished, and I should be disappointed. When did the prince arrive on the scene?"

"It doesn't get to that yet. So the princess lived in a house where there were no stairs. Only one day when she was walking through the wood, there was a little house and she went in, and she said, 'Oh, what funny things!' and she went up them, and she tumbled down, and her foot was underneaf, so she was lame. An' she lay on the sofa, and the queen- mamma cried, and the G.o.dfathers and the G.o.dmuzzers came flying up, only they could do nothing, and the king said anyone should have the land who made her better, an' thousands an' thousands tried, an' at last the prince came riding along on a white horse, an' he looked froo the window--"

"Jack dear, will you please come to the drawing-room? We want to consult you!" Bridgie's head peered round the corner of the door, her cheeks quite pink, her eyes s.h.i.+ning with excitement. She gripped her brother's arm as he came to meet her, and whispered, "It's the most extraordinary thing--she really means it! She is charming, Jack, charming; I can't say 'No' to her. Come and try what you can do!"

But Jack was not a good hand at saying "No," least of all to charming ladies, and Mrs Wallace took his measure at once, and felt that she had gained a friend.

"I am trying to persuade Miss O'Shaughnessy to lend your little sister to me for a short time every day, to help me with my children," she said, smiling at him under lifted brows. "I understand that you knew nothing about her application, and when I first saw her I felt, as you must have done, that the idea was preposterous, but Viva and Inda fell desperately in love with her, and have talked of nothing else since she left. I think I followed their example, and I am quite sure my husband did. He thinks Mamzelle Paddy would be the solution of all our nursery troubles, if you could be induced to spare her to us. I would be very careful of her; I promise you that!"

Jack looked at Bridgie; Bridgie looked at Jack.

"I'd be delighted that she should help you, and it would be an amus.e.m.e.nt to her to play with the dear little girls. If she might come as a friend--"

"Oh, Miss O'Shaughnessy, how cruel of you, when her great idea was to help you! She would be a most welcome friend, but I could not consent to using her time without paying for it."

Mrs Wallace had approached this question before, and had discovered that Bridgie was no more embarra.s.sed by a reference to her poverty than had been Mamzelle Paddy herself. "We should think any sum cheap which ensured our little girls being happy and occupied, instead of crying and quarrelling, as I am sorry to say they do now for the greater part of the day. They are too young for regular lessons, but they already know French fairly well, and would soon be able to speak fluently."

"I can't judge of Pixie's French, but her English is so Irish that it was a stroke of genius to offer herself in the character of a foreigner!" said Jack, stroking his moustache, and smiling to himself in whimsical fas.h.i.+on. "Of course, she is quite confident that she could do all you require, but you must not listen to her own account of herself.

If you offered Pixie the command of the Channel Fleet, she'd accept without a qualm! If you want the kindest-hearted, most mischievous little ignoramus in the world, Mrs Wallace, it would be waste of time to search any farther, for you have found her already! She will keep your children happy, and never say a word that they wouldn't be the better for hearing, but it won't be the orthodox training! I fancy Pixie was a big surprise to the English boarding-school when she first arrived."

"But she left with the prize for being the most popular and unselfish of the girls! Your sister has just shown me the books with the touching inscription. If she can teach my girlies to be as sweet and helpful, I shall not mind a few eccentricities. Two hours in the morning would not take her away too much from home, and she would have plenty of time left for her own music. Her ambition seemed to be to pay for her own lessons, so if I gave her thirty pounds, she could go to a really good master without feeling that she was overtaxing you. It would be such a pleasure to me too, Miss O'Shaughnessy. I feel sure your brother will agree, if you consent. Please say 'Yes'!"

So it was left to Bridgie to make the final decision, and in after years she used to wonder what would have happened if she had refused her consent! It was a difficult problem, for to her old-fas.h.i.+oned notions it was a trifle _infra dig_ for a girl to work for herself, and it hurt her tender heart that the Piccaninny of all others should be the one to go out into the world.

What would the dear dead mother have said to such a project? What would the Major have said? What would Esmeralda think now, and, thinking, say, with all the impa.s.sioned eloquence of which she was mistress?

Bridgie reflected earnestly on the questions, while Mrs Wallace watched her face with anxious eyes.

The dear mother had never been able to resign herself to the happy-go- lucky Irish customs, and had died before her time, worn-out with the strain of trying to make both ends meet. When she looked down from heaven with those clear angel eyes, would it seem more n.o.ble to her that her baby should preserve a puny social distinction at the cost of a purposeless life, or that she should use the talents which had been given to her for her own good and the good of others?

There could be little doubt how the mother would have decided, and as for the Major, Bridgie smiled with indulgent tenderness as she pictured, one after the other, the swift stages of his behaviour if he had been present to-day. Horror and indignation at the possibility that the Piccaninny should be in subjection to anyone but himself; irritated impatience that the O'Shaughnessys should be expected to pay for what they desired, like any ordinary, commonplace family; chuckling delight over the smartness of the child; and finally an even greater inability than his sons to say "No" to a charming woman! Storm he never so wildly, the Major would undoubtedly have ended by consenting to Mrs Wallace's plea, while Esmeralda's wrath would be kept within bounds by Geoffrey's strong common sense.

Bridgie sighed and looked across the room to where Jack sat.

"If it is left to me," she said slowly, "if I am to decide, I think I will say 'Yes'! She shall come to you for a month on trial, Mrs Wallace, and we can see how it works."

Mrs Wallace beamed with relief and satisfaction.

"That's very kind!" she said. "I am truly grateful. I realise that your decision is unselfish, but believe me, you shall never regret it!"

And Bridgie remembered that prophecy, and smiled over it many times in the happy years to come.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

JACK'S DISCOVERY.

Pixie received the intelligence that she was to begin her new duties on the following Monday with the unruffled composure of one who has expected no other decision. She asked eagerly what salary she was to receive, and was a trifle depressed to find that it did not run to three figures. Thirty pounds sounded very little, though she had only the vaguest notion of its purchasing value, but her ambition had been to supply the whole additional sum which was needed for the support of the household.

Innocent Bridgie had no idea as to what might be expected under the circ.u.mstances, but Miss Munns, who knew everything, declared that the offer was a handsome one, and ten pounds in excess of the ordinary rate of payment. Still, as she sagely remarked, one could never tell!

People sometimes seemed very generous and pleasant-spoken at first, and then turned out everything that was exacting and unreasonable. Several young friends of her own had gone out as governesses, and met with tragic adventures. Marianne Summers, the cousin of Summers' Celebrated Snowflake Soap, was with a family at Rochester, and nursed a little boy all through scarlatina, and when she had toothache herself the lady said it was most inconvenient because a dinner-party was coming. No consideration whatever, and the food very poor. She was never so much as asked to have a second helping!

"Maybe the lady had so many to help that she forgot to ask her.

Couldn't she ask herself? It would have been more friendly than grumbling behind her back," said Pixie severely. "When I go out to meals with people I make myself at home. I went to _dejeuner_ with some friends in Paris, and I was so much at home that when they had cabbage, I remarked that I wished it had been cauliflower. They smiled, and looked quite pleasant!"

Miss Munns looked over her spectacles, and grunted to herself. She considered Pixie O'Shaughnessy a most uncomfortable girl, and was never at ease in her society. She asked embarra.s.sing questions, stared with unconcealed curiosity, while her innocence had a trick of developing into quite remarkable shrewdness at sudden and inappropriate moments.

Miss Munns recalled several incidents when the gaze of the childlike eyes had filled her with a most unpleasant embarra.s.sment, and declared that not for fifty thousand pounds would she have that child living in her house!

Bridgie was different. She was invariably anxious to hear further anecdotes concerning relations and friends, and was such a docile pupil in domestic matters, that the old lady had the felicity of practically ruling two households instead of one. In the fervour of her resolve to turn over a new leaf, Bridgie had made no reservations, but had placed herself and her accounts in Miss Munns's hands, and from that moment there was no drawing back. The weekly orders were supervised and cut down, the accounts carefully checked and paid to the hour, the receipts were endorsed and filed, so that they could be produced at a moment's notice; extras were faithfully entered into the housekeeping ledger at the end of each day, and the whole account balanced to a laborious penny. When the penny was very difficult to find, Bridgie pleaded hard to be allowed to supply it from her private purse, and could never be quite brought to see that the result would not be the same, but it was a proud moment when Jack surveyed the ledger on Sat.u.r.day evenings and wrote, "Examined, and found correct!" with a big flourish underneath the final addition. Then he would stroke his moustache and twinkle at her with amused eyes, as he said--

"Bravo, Bridgie, right to a fraction! I'll ask Miss Munns to take me in hand next--since she has scored such a triumph out of you. Evening cla.s.ses two or three times a week, with Sylvia to sit by me and sharpen my pencils--that would be a happy way of combining instruction and amus.e.m.e.nt for the winter evenings, wouldn't it?" and--shades of Esmeralda!--Bridgie smiled, and e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, "You naughty boy!" in a tone as far removed from fault-finding as it is possible to imagine.

Sylvia Trevor, however, being a young woman of spirit, was by no means disposed to provide amus.e.m.e.nt for Master Jack or any other masculine flirt. If any man wished to win her, she was worth wooing seriously, so she told herself with a tilt of the pretty dark head, but when Jack said one thing with his lips, beseeching Miss Munns to take pity on his ignorance, and put him on the path whereon he should walk, and another with his eyes, mutely inviting her to stay and flirt with him the while he pretended to listen--then her pride was roused, and she determined to teach him a wholesome lesson. She waited until Miss Munns had produced half a dozen ledgers to demonstrate the elaborate system of book-keeping by which she conducted her miniature establishment--until Jack had seated himself by her side and was irrevocably victimised for the evening; then she rose from her chair and said amiably--

"I mustn't disturb you. You will like to be quiet, so I'll run across and chat to Bridgie for an hour, while you are away!"

The "running" was a polite fiction, for in spite of ma.s.sage and the most careful doctoring it would be many months before Sylvia could run again.

By walking very deliberately she could just conceal her limp, and now as she turned towards the door she had a good view of Jack's petrified glare of disgust.

The picture of him sitting by the old lady's side, while she prepared to teach him what he himself knew a dozen times better than herself, was too much for Sylvia's composure, and around the corner of the door, where her aunt could not see her, she doubled up with silent laughter and cast on him a glance of such mocking triumph, such sparkling, dimpling, deliciously girl-like derision, as was more eloquent than a thousand gibes.

Jack leapt to his feet; at that moment he would have given half he possessed to have rushed after the tantalising creature, to have stood over her, and watched her self-confidence give place gradually to embarra.s.sment, and the pink flush rise to the pale cheeks as it had a trick of doing under his scrutiny, but, alas! the door was shut, and Miss Munns's voice inquired soberly--

"Do you want the lamp? Put it on the mat, please. You can't be too careful of lamps. If the oil gets on the cloth, nothing will take it out!"

"'Twill be a lesson to me while I live!" sighed Jack sorrowfully to himself. He was smarting with annoyance and impatience, but he managed, as not one man in a hundred could have done, to keep his irritation to himself, and be absolutely amiable and courteous to his instructress.

Miss Munns thought him a most well-disposed young man, and did not discover one of the anxious glances at the clock, nor the yawns so dexterously hidden beneath strokings of the moustache.

When three-quarters of an hour had pa.s.sed by, Jack felt as if the interview had lasted a fortnight, but fate was kinder to him than he deserved, and sent relief in the person of the widow occupant of Number Ten, who arrived to pay an evening call, cribbage-board in hand. Then Mr Jack departed, and paced up and down the road smoking cigarettes, and meditating on revenge. He caught the echo of girlish laughter from within his own threshold, and could easily picture the scene within--the two sisters huddling over the fire, Sylvia seated in state in the grandfather chair, Pat, her devoted admirer, perched on the end of a table, and placidly maintaining his position in spite of repeated injunctions to run away.

He pictured Sylvia's face also as he had often seen it--the sharply-cut little features, the suspicion of pride and self-will in aquiline nose and firmly-moulded chin, the short, roughened hair, which was such a cross to its owner, but which gave her a gallant, boyish air, which one spectator at least found irresistibly piquant. He saw the firelight play upon the pretty pink dress and the rings on the restless hands, saw the brown eyes sparkle with laughter, and grow suddenly soft and wistful. It seemed to him that they were turned towards himself, that her thoughts were meeting his half-way, that she was already repenting, and dreading the result of her hasty flight.

Jack O'Shaughnessy stopped short in his pacings up and down, and stood staring before him with a strange, rapt expression. Out there in the prosaic street the greatest discovery of his life had come to him, and the wonder of it took away his breath. Young men often imagine themselves in love with half a dozen pretty faces before they have reached five-and-twenty, but to most of them there comes at last, in the providence of G.o.d, the one woman who is as far removed from the pa.s.sing fancies of an hour as the moon from her attendant stars. She has appeared, and for him thenceforth there is no more doubt or change; his life is, humanly speaking, in her hands, and her influence over him is the greatest of all the talents which has been entrusted to her care.

Too often he is careless about religious matters, if not actively antagonistic, and her light words may confirm him in a life of indifference; but, on the other hand, his heart is never so tender and ready to be influenced as at the moment when she has given her life into his charge, and this golden opportunity is hers to seize and turn to lasting good. In the best sense of the word she is his Queen and he is her knight, who will perform n.o.ble and gallant deeds at her behest.