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Updated: May 5, 2025
The speaker stopped suddenly as she pronounced this difficult word, for a curious muffled sound reached her ears. "What's that?" she asked quickly; but her companions had heard nothing, so she retired into the cubicle next Pixie's own to brush her hair, slightly raising her voice, so as to be heard more easily by her companions. "She lives in a castle!
The children screamed aloud in terror, but the Captain had hardly disappeared before he was up again, capless, and shaking the water from his head, but looking none the worse for his ducking. But it was a long, agonising minute before there came a swirling and bubbling at the end of the lock, and Pixie's white, unconscious little face floated on the surface.
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.
A few girls there may be who honestly mean such a decision, but they are very few indeed, while their hearers are invariably sceptical. Not one of the O'Shaughnessys seemed in the least impressed by Sylvia's disclaimer, and it was disconcerting to hear Pixie's sympathetic, "Did no one ever ask ye? Never mind! They may still. You are not so very old!"
The girl standing nearest to her put an arm round her neck, and said, "Poor little girlie!" in such a soft, tender voice that her tears overflowed at the moment, and she returned the embrace with startling fervour. Pixie's emotions were all on the surface, and she could cry at one moment and laugh at the next, with more ease than an ordinary person could smile or sigh.
Pixie's head went down lower than ever, and the pen scratched away without a moment's cessation, for she was enduring that unreasoning panic of fear which sensitive children suffer when they are in disgrace with their elders.
Mademoiselle looked, as she felt, completely taken aback by this unexpected request. It sounded strange indeed coming from Pixie's lips, and it was difficult to explain to the girl that she herself would be the greatest hindrance to the granting of such a request. She looked down, fingered her dress in embarrassment, and said slowly "For my part I should be glad for the girls to have their party.
Pat and Miles were conversing together in tones of laboured mystery, a device certain to arrest Pixie's vivid attention. "On Sundays yes! Occasionally on Wednesdays also. It does seem rather mean, but I suppose puddings are not good for growing girls. Two a week is ample if you think of it!" "Good wholesome puddings too!" said Pat, nodding assent. "Suet and rice, and perhaps tapioca for a change!
When Holyhead was reached, Mademoiselle lifted her bag and walked on board the steamer with the air of a martyr marching to the stake, and, to Pixie's dismay, laid herself down at once with an utter disregard of the tables spread out in the saloon.
The morning after Mademoiselle had suffered from a headache, Pixie's handkerchief was soaked with offerings of eau-de-Cologne, from the various girls to whom she had repeated ejaculations of distress; she discoursed exhaustively upon the weather to every one who could be induced to listen, and recited exercise phrases to the school cat until her tongue grew quite nimble over the words.
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