Pixie OShaughnessy | Page 6

prefer it, in German, or any other Continental
language. The constant use of one language is supposed to be bad for
the throat. I hope, by the way, father, that you mentioned distinctly that
Pixie's throat requires care?"
Pixie cast an agonised glance round the table, caught Bridgie's eye, and
sighed with relief, as a shake of the head and an encouraging smile
testified to the absurdity of the boys' statements.

"There's not a word of truth in it, darling. Don't listen to them. They are
only trying to tease you."
"I'd scorn to listen! Ignorant creatures, brought up at home by a lady
governess! What do they know about schooling?" cried Pixie cruelly;
for this was a sore point, on which it was not safe to jest on ordinary
occasions. Miles rolled his eyes at her in threatening fashion, and Pat
stamped on her foot; but she smiled on unabashed, knowing full well
that her coming departure would protect her from the ordinary
retribution.
After breakfast it seemed a natural thing to go a farewell round of the
house and grounds, escorted by the entire family circle, and a
melancholy review it would have been to anyone unblessed with Irish
spirits, and the Irish capability of shutting one's eyes to unpleasant
truths. Knock Castle sounded grandly enough, and a fine old place it
had been some centuries before; but for want of repairs it had now
fallen into a semi-ruinous condition pathetic to witness. Slates in
hundreds had fallen off the roof and been left unreplaced; a large
staircase window, blown in by a storm, was still boarded up, waiting to
be mended "some time," though more than a year had elapsed since the
accident had taken place; the walls in the great drawing-room were
mouldy with damp, for it had been deserted for many a day, because its
owner could not afford the two big fires necessary to keep it aired.
Pixie sniffed with delight when she entered the gloomy apartment, for
the room represented the family glory to her childish imagination, so
that the smell of mildew was irresistibly associated with luxury. The
dining-room carpet was worn into holes, and there was one especially
big one near the window, where Esmeralda, who was nothing if not
artistic, had painted so accurate a repetition of the pattern on the boards
beneath that one could scarcely see where one ended, and the other
began!
The original intention had been to disguise the hole, but so proud was
the family of the success of the imitation, that it became one of the
show places of the establishment. When the hounds met at Bally
William, and the Major brought old Lord Atrim into the house for

lunch, he called the old gentleman's attention to it with a chuckle of
enjoyment. "My daughter's work! The second, Joan here--Esmeralda,
we call her. She'll be an artist yet! A real genius with the brush." And
the old lord had laughed till he cried, and stared at Esmeralda the whole
time of lunch, and when Christmas-time came round, did he not send
her the most beautiful box of the best possible paints, the very thing of
all others for which she had been longing, so that it seemed after all
that it had been a good thing when the terriers Tramp and Scamp had
scratched the thin web into a hole! The ceilings were black with the
smoke of fire and lamps, but the silver on the oak dresser would have
delighted the heart of a connoisseur, and the china in daily use would
have been laid out for view in glassed-in cabinets in most households,
instead of being given over to the care of an Irish biddy who tried to
hang cups upon hooks with her head turned in an opposite direction,
and had a weakness for sitting on the corner of the table to rest herself
in the midst of washing the plates.
Outside the garden was an overgrown wilderness of vegetation, for the
one gardener, realising the impossibility of doing the work of the six
who would have been required to keep the place in order, resigned
himself to doing nothing at all, or as little as was compatible with the
weekly drawing of wages. The stables were empty, save for the two
fine hunters which were necessary for the Major's enjoyment of his
favourite sport, and the rough little pony which did duty for all the rest
of the family in turns. The row of glass-houses looked imposing
enough from a distance, but almost squalid at a nearer view, for, as the
Major could not afford to keep them in working order, broken panes
greeted the eye in every direction, and plants were replaced by broken
pieces of furniture and the hutches and