The Love Affairs of Pixie

Love Affairs of Pixie, by Mrs
George de Horne Vaizey

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Title: The Love Affairs of Pixie
Author: Mrs George de Horne Vaizey
Release Date: October 20, 2007 [EBook #23125]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
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AFFAIRS OF PIXIE ***

Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England

The Love Affairs of Pixie
by Mrs George de Horne Vaizey.
CHAPTER ONE.

THE QUESTION OF NOSES.
When Pixie O'Shaughnessy had reached her twentieth birthday it was
borne in upon her with the nature of a shock that she was not beautiful.
Hitherto a buoyant and innocent self-satisfaction, coupled with the
atmosphere of love and admiration by which she was surrounded in the
family circle, had succeeded in blinding her eyes to the very obvious
defects of feature which the mirror portrayed. But suddenly, sharply,
her eyes were opened.
"Did it ever occur to you, Bridgie, my dear, that I've grown-up plain?"
she demanded of her sister, Mrs Victor, as the two sat by the fire one
winter afternoon, partaking luxuriously of strong tea and potato cakes,
and at the sound of such a surprising question Mrs Victor started as if a
crack of thunder had suddenly pealed through the quiet room. She
stared in amazement; her big, grey eyes widened dramatically.
"My good child," she demanded sternly, "whatever made you think of
asking such a preposterous question?"
"'Twas borne in on me!" sighed Pixie sadly. "It's the way with life; ye
go jog-trotting along, blind and cheerful, until suddenly ye bang your
head against a wall, and your eyes are opened! 'Twas the same with me.
I looked at myself every day, but I never saw. Habit, my dear,
blindfolded me like a bandage, and looking at good-looking people all
day long it seemed only natural that I should look nice too. But this
morning the sun shone, and I stood before the glass twisting about to
try on my new hat, and, Bridgie, the truth was revealed! My nose!"
"What's the matter with your nose?" demanded Mrs Victor. Her own
sweet, delicately cut face was flushed with anger, and she sat with
stiffened back staring across the fireplace as if demanding
compensation for a personal injury.
Pixie sighed, and helped herself to another slice of potato cake.
"It scoops!" she said plaintively. "As you love me, Bridgie, can you
deny it scoops?" And as if to illustrate the truth of her words she

twisted her head so as to present her little profile for her sister's
inspection.
Truly it was not a classic outline! Sketched in bare outline it would
have lacerated an artist's eye, but then more things than line go to the
making up a girlish face: there is youth, for instance, and a blooming
complexion; there is vivacity, and sweetness, and an intangible
something which for want of a better name we call "charm." Mrs Victor
beheld all these attributes in her sister's face, and her eyes softened as
they looked, but her voice was still resentful.
"Of course it scoops. It always did scoop. I like it to scoop."
"I like them straight!" persisted Pixie. "And it isn't as if it stopped at the
nose. There's my mouth--"
Bridgie's laugh had a tender, reminiscent ring.
"The Mammoth Cave of Kentucky! D'you remember the Major's old
name? He was proud of your mouth. And you had no chin as a child.
You ought to be thankful, Pixie, that you've grown to a chin!"
"I am," cried Pixie with unction. "It would be awful to slope down into
your neck. All the same, me dear, if it was my eyes that were bigger,
and my mouth that was smaller, it would be better for all concerned."
She was silent for some moments, staring thoughtfully in the fire. From
time to time she frowned, and from time to time she smiled; Bridgie
divined that a thought was working, and lay back in her seat, amusedly
watching its development. "There's a place in Paris," continued Pixie
thoughtfully at last, "an institute sort of place, where they repair noses!
You sort of go in, and they look at you, and there are models and
drawings, and you choose your nose! The manager is an expert, and if
you choose a wrong style he advises, and says another would suit you
better. I'd love a Greek one myself; it's so chic to float down straight
from the