 CHAPTER VII of THE LOVE-AFFAIRS OF PIXIE by Mrs. George D. Horne Vasey. This labor box recording is in the public domain. PIXIE IS DULL Jeffrey 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 Jeffrey crossed the room to join his wife, and the two younger men made a beeline for the chair by the other side of the sofa, whereon honor sat and scanced. It was only a minute, less than a minute before Stannor 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 Stannor, 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 boar if Stannor Vaughn 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 discourse'd 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 tonight, Pixie. Were you shy by any chance? Please don't be shy. It's such poor form, which was not the most soothing nightcap 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 honour, and reflecting on her sister's parting words. This, she said 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 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, and character, and indeed 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 the 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. Jeff, 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? Little 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 bell-groomed arm? My God, thy hands four times already they have been scarred. My hands can be clean when I like. I was talking of if I was beautiful. Silence, miserable one. The appearance is of no count, pronounced Marie boldly, to be good is better than beauty. Jeffrey drew his brows together in a frown. He was displeased, and when he was displeased he made himself felt. I should think, 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 colored 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 preeminently, 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 feigned 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, Jeff, he cried eagerly. You shouldn't. You shouldn't, Jeff. I know something that's uglier than Marie. Jeff's scowl deepened. He might insinuate, but a bare face 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, Shirley? Tell thy melly. Monkeys! List, 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 weenie, Jack. He meant so well. She drew a long sigh. Those two boys are just a newer addition of their parents. Little Jack is Jeffrey over again, just the same kind, patient, sensitive disposition, and Jeff is me. When he is in one of his moods it's like looking at myself in a mental glass. I am 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 reath in expectancy. They made a goodly picture in the spring sunshine, the trim little 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. Jeff 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 prim roses 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 anyone 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 Stanner, 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, praised be, assented Pixie, with a fervor 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 Stannor 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 lunch and 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 today. Stannor pleaded, and Joan turned back to the house to super intend 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 sometime, Patricia. It would be heat more fun. 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 recovered 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 color 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. End of Chapter 7 Chapter 8 of The Love Affairs of Pixie by Mrs. George D. Horne Vasey This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. 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 we 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 it takes up more time than you'd believe. I think of you all in the morning in the dear little house, everyone 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? Heroin Honor Ward, aged 24 Orphan Proprietress of Picante Pickles Factory, Cheving, Massachusetts, USA Honor, who is a 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 and 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 Stanner Vaughn, secondary hero, a beauteous youth of fair estate. Stanner, being ardently in love with himself, does not return her passion. He treats her with sisterly affection. He 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 lifelike 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 deluxe, but fate was kind to us and it turned out very alfresco indeed. We started in the big car, Jeffrey 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 beaches peeping up straight and tall, like the pillars of a great cathedral, and sweet innocent little prim roses peeping up through the moss and last year's leaves crackling underfoot. Those prim roses 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 tonight? 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 gliss. Mrs. Maralda and I took Contralto. There was practically no treble. For honor's squeak was drowned, fathoms deep. Geoffrey and Mr. Carr droned base and Stanner Vaughn took tenor, rather out of tune it's true, but no man with that profile could be expected to condescend to base. We sang, come and see the daylight donning on the meadow far away. And Mr. Carr said he must really have a point of going some day, and we planned an early walk for next week, if anyone 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? My dear, I was a Sukse Fu. 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 have no patience with blunderers. She hasn't. Jeffrey, something may have gone wrong with the car. I won't blame the poor fellow till you are sure he deserves it. Stanor, I don't care one wrap about Dawson, I want my lunch with the luxuries. What price expectation now, Miss O'Shaughnessy? Honor. I am sorry to be disagreeable, but I have 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 ballroom slippers? Honor said they aren't in any way. 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 Jeffrey, 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. A mile and more 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? Everyone 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. Jeffrey was the scout master and we were to meet him at the second lamppost 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. In the early interior we were to disemble 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 too being clean the choice was to be left with the scout master who would decide between them with tact and discretion. Bridgy it was sport, they were all clean and they all supplied plain teas, but the astounding part no one could supply milk. Esmeralda says she has never yet rated 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 arreist cottage, ordered eggs, looked hotly 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 bullseyes 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 a piece 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 bullseyes. They're 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 Stanner 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. 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 subconscious 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 and without waiting to hear honor's reply he went down on his knees and began unbuttoning her shoe. She has the daintiest might 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 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're 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 cool Ian took from his pocket two strong black bootlaces which he proceeded to crisscross over the instep and round the ankles 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 Pixio Shaughnessy's heart don't you care she said 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 an 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 and 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 and 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 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 program the experience has proved that I change in about a quarter of the time taken by the others so down I sit and fill up the weight 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 esmeraldes made to do my hair you'd think it would need an effort to find 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 bell pixie end of chapter 8 chapter 9 of the love affairs of pixie by mrs. george de horn veisy this LibriVox recording is in the public domain a rift a rift let me break it to you tenderly said mrs. hillier to her guests at breakfast on the morning after the picnic that on Thursday there is a bizarre 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's suited her own purpose but her blandishments fail 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 bizarre assist what bizarre where what for this is too sudden why were we not warned Joan twinkled mischievously I was afraid you'd 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 Jeffrey to give it right out it's so much simpler but he wouldn't he thought it was right that other people should help Jeffrey 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 neighbors 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 he 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 cushions and tidies and mats and pin cushions 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 a bit 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 maids 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 Jeffrey 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 manufacturing falals which nobody needs I fail to see it she retorted sharply and Jeffrey shrugged again his face grim and displeased it was not a pleasant moment for the listeners and one and all were grateful to Stan or Vaughn 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 them 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 cruise business half a franc and as big as your head I argued with her for an hour there was no good buy it she would and cuddled in her arms the whole way home if you have any green cruises 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 the English 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 remark everything of fresh 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 anyone else to break his nails there will be enough work for us are we to be dressed up in fancy character it's also sudden that I'd like to know the worst at once side honor plaintively I've been a Swiss maiden I've been a Dollyvarden 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 everyone wear what suits them best wait till you see my waistcoat cried Stanner 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 Jeffrey and Joan had unmistakably jarred in the old days at Nock 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 seemed something abnormal and shocking imagine Dick sneering at Bridgie imagine Bridgie snapping back and relapsing into haughty indifference 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 every 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 Jeffrey 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 Jeffrey 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 apologize as Maralda 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 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 Jeffrey 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'm sure of it then why why what on earth puts you into such a bait Jeffrey 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 anyone else I hope this bizarre might be the means of taking you out of yourself or 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. Ewert has at the vicarage plain sewing from two to four and then tea and buns he would have liked to see me sitting in the evening embroidering wild roses on traycloths and finding 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 is Moralda'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. Hillier 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 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'm afraid there are many moods in which you hate me as Moralda 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 as Moralda 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 things 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 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'm glad to be rich my father worked hard for his money it was honorably gained and I'm proud to inherit it it is a responsibility 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 tomorrow if it could purchase peace and tranquility a rest from this everlasting strain something tightened over Jones 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 Jones veins the chill of dismay which presages disaster at that moment she divined the certainty of what she had never before even dimly imagined 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 realized 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 anymore 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 that she had answered a hundred times and if today 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 warily you are my wife but you've rubbed off the bloom Joan got up quietly from her knees and crossed to the door and then 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 Geoffrey had gone back to his writing his pen traveled swiftly across the page he did not raise his head End of Chapter 9 Chapter 10 of the Love Affairs of Pixie by Mrs. George DeHorne Vasey this LibriVox recording is in the public domain Pixie gives Joan a tonic a romp with the children restored Pixie's elastic spirits and brought a revived wish for her friend's 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 bourgeois beheld a pale and tragic esmeralda summoning her with her 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 in doors 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 wall quite possibly she had been sitting for the last hour picturing the stages of her own decline and the grief of their 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 jeffreal mary 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 shown in her eyes it was a rare thing for Joan to cry the easy tears which rose to her sister's 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're 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 Jeffrey he doesn't love me anymore I'm not imagining it it's true he told me himself what did he say 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 Jeffrey was crossed 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 in 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 of the exclusion of the personal application she had a vision of love as the apotheosis of human affection a wondrous combination of kindness sympathy, courtesy patience, unselfishness all these and something more that mysterious, intangible quality which Jeffrey Hilliard had so aptly described given the bloom affection became idealized 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 often did exist giving little happiness either to the giver or the recipient love the highest with 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 you had 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 Jeffrey sat watching you as Dick watches Bridgie he 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've been married 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 and then he began to get impatient for himself and this last year things had been going from bad to worse when he spoke straight out it was easier there was a raw royal and a grand makeup 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've been dozens of times when I should have expected him to be furious and he's been mild as a lamb then all 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 heir of one who has endured three husbands at least dicks 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 bridges there's too much bloom she put her little head on one side of the lips in thought with the characteristic Pixie heir which carried Joan back to the days of childhood now isn't it odd as Maralda how people cultivate almost every good quality and leave love to chance they practice patience and unselfishness but seem to think love is beyond control it comes or it goes taunt me, taunt P 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 men deserve 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 studied drawing and music what you have to do as Maralda is to forget everything and everyone else for a while and comfort Geoffrey don't make a scene and worry the poor man don't make a grand program of reformation for that we'll put him off at the start just begin tonight and be sweet to him for a change if you feel temper coming on have it out on me I can leave 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 hardily then subsided into tears and helplessness Pixie Pixie it's so difficult what can I do do 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 are not talking of leopards we're talking of women and they can bridle their tongues again and 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 valuable 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 realized 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 had she imagined for a moment that she might be compelled to live on having bidden farewell to love Jeffrey her lover Jeffrey her husband Jeffrey the father of her boys was it a fact or dreadful nightmare that he had sat untouched by her appeal and confessed that that she had been winced, unable to bear the repetition and locked her hands more closely on her knees Pixie glanced furtively through the window Stannor 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 Stannor were waiting in another five minutes she was playing tennis as wholeheartedly 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 today 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 childlike 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 as Maralda 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 would 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 Jeffrey her anxiety to please she racked her brain to find a way poor, impatient undisciplined as Maralda how little she dreamed of the tragic consequences of that hour End of Chapter 10 Chapter 11 of the Love Affairs of Pixie by Mrs. George Diharn Vasey this Libra Box recording is in the public domain Pixie talks in love the immediate cause of Jeffrey's displeasure having been in connection with the Bazaar it appeared to Joan 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 anyone but an impulsive Irish woman would have realized the futility of organizing 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 as Maralda O'Shaughnessy she was accustomed to acting in haste at home at knock the most extensive entertainments had been organized at a few hours notice and how much easier it would be now with the 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 pillowcase had provided a fancy costume which had captivated Jeffrey 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 victimizing 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 program 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 singing 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 program should be illustrated by a tableau vivante 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 oh a bit legubris did mrs. hillyard 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 without stretched 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 and 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 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 smiling like a little angel he'd bring down the house people would love to see him then for the first time Jeffrey 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 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 Jeffrey 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 Jeffrey 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 prose 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 Jeffrey 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 Meralda had done before her both failed to appreciate the fact that sudden spasms of energy were by no means an innovation in family history and what the tired man was really longing for was that ordered peace and tranquility which formed the English idea of home he made no further objections, however and Joan threw herself wholeheartedly 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 the holistic scenery was being manufactured under Joan's able supervision the new system of thoroughness demanded more over that the stored up cases should be opened and the contents unpacked dusted and repriced a work in itself of many hours the four guests started there on with equal vigor 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 where upon 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 truance seated at extreme ends of a garden seat hardly speaking to each other looking on the most stiff and formal of terms Stannor laughed at the sight but Pixie's practical mind could not reconcile itself to such contradictory behavior 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 Stannor 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 quarreling when you might quite so a scented Stannor laughing ah, 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 car has nothing but what he makes he'll get on alright a fellow with that chin is bound to get on 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 take it from him if he didn't I should feel he didn't love me enough 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 realize then that in a life together there would be no yours or mine it would all be ours Stannor 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 Stannor had many girlfriends 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 realized 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 Stannor Von 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 idol he had been on the verge of proposing to her when his uncle had suddenly summoned him home and 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 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 wrinkle had in both cases played the part of deus ex machina it was coincidence of course your 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 recall his impressions on first meeting the girl a week before and his own outspoken surprise at the insignificant 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 the form 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 Stanner told himself it must be the real thing at the expiration 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 impressement 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 on but Stanner was sensitive enough to realize 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 they'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 Stanner'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 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 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 Stanner felt an amused conviction that whatever the post might be the little thing would fill it uncommonly well small and childlike as she appeared she yet carried with her 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, sowing, mending, turning making, unmaking helping bridgey, amusing the children soothing the servants humoring dick, making dresses trimming hats, covering cushions teaching the alphabet practicing songs, arranging flowers watering plants, going to shops making up parcels, writing notes making standard 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'm 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 not despised 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 assist her bridgey 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 bridgey 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 18 he was as strong as a horse a fine upstanding young giant he must have been the accident pitched from his horse against the stone wall and for 12 solid years he lay on his back that made him only 30 but you would never have believed it to see him he was a lot more like a man of 50 pixie laid her pen on the table and rested her chin in the clasped hands her eyes looked very large and wistful 12 years on one's back one would live so fast inside all the while one's body was idle twid age you if it had happened when he was 50 twid would have been easier but at 18 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 you would be 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 Stanar shook himself with an involuntary shiver don't he cried sharply don't talk like that what an imagination you have enough cut up about it goodness knows but I never realized all that it meant well he is better now so we needn't grouse about it anymore it's only that 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 he has missed himself and it's a craze with him too as he calls it safeguard my youth he's 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 Bosch fellows of 35 don't worry about heirs he has never mentioned the subject all he has done is 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 freedom between 20 and 30 he is better fitted to take up responsibility then or 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 determined to safeguard his freedom during these early years then are 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 has 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 the frown continued for several minutes but finally gave place to a smile for consideration of the present position had led him to a comfortable conclusion the runkle would be on a wrong tack this time if he sent it any attraction among the members of Miss Hilliards 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 Stannervon had been laid captive by a plain and penniless Irish Pixie End of Chapter 11 Chapter 12 of the Love Affairs of Pixie by Mrs. George D. Hornvasey this LibriVox recording is in the public domain the Bazaar the morning of the Bazaar was radiantly fine 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 in closing minute postal orders anyone who wanted to come could come and woe be tied the contents of their purse Mrs. Hilliards stall was placed in the center of the hall and in accordance with her own instructions had been made in the shape of a great round table within the hallowed center of which she and her girl helpers could be protected from the crowd while without a tendon sprites in the persons of the two young men hovered about ready to do their bidding not a single article of needle work appeared upon the stall not a solitary pin cushion nor handkerchief sashay or night dress 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 two pence apiece and offered for sale at an alarming sacrifice for a shilling there were beads from Venice and tiles from Holland and vans from Spain especially provided for the entrapment of county families there was dainty English China on sale or return and flagons of Oticalone 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 of Kimbo to view the completed stall everything can break not one single thing that you couldn't smash into 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 but 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 neighborhood to understand the horror of the bizarre 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 it was 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 it was 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 aging 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 it was 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 around 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 hahaha the two young men anticipated the point with roars of laughter and Pixie whisked around to the other side of the stall to cock her head at a pyramid of green pottery and moved the principal pieces an inch to the right a thought to the left with intent to improve the coup d'etre to the masculine eye did not seem possible that such infinitesimal touches could have the slightest effect but then bazaars are intended for the development of women and Pixie knew very well that with them first impressions were all important every shopkeeper realizes 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 bobble which could be done without but let the eye catch sight of an impressive two 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 is hearers already understood far better than he did himself the wife of a neighboring 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 neighboring squire's wife for her kindness in being present among us today and then everyone clapped feebly and the bazaar had begun the few county people who were present sauntered round the hall 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 saleswomen 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 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 patronized side shows and possibly expend a few sillings 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 they 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 delarobia from Florence inquired pixie genially of a group of portly matrons reduced to seven and six ten sillings 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 into china but I should prefer it on a bracket a bracket nailed across the 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 today 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 delirobia 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 stanner 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 admired the design and marble 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 stanner 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 or seated dejectedly on an inverted packing chest discourse 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 vote of offering to the fair saleswoman herself such a recital was hardly calculated to enliven the occasion Esmeralda frowned and pixie sighed and for the first time in her existence doubted the entire superiority of being born of Britain she remembered her rebuffs with the delirobia placken thought wistfully of those millionaires the concert however was a success the room was filled the audience was appreciative and lovely little jack and 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 their intent there seemed no reason why Jeffrey Stanner 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 stallholder 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 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 great many things Patricia 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 the mind 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 everyone else to pull his or herself together and to 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 there too an encore as Meralda'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 favorite 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. Jeffrey 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 curtsies on Sundays she sat in sconce in the great square pew a vision of stately beauty the good dames of the village felt at the great privilege of this evening as a 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 program that double tableau which every person in the hall was fated to remember to the last day of his life End of Chapter 12