Pixie O'Shaughnessy Part 15

The little house at Pa.s.sy could have been put down inside the great entrance hall, but it was a trim little habitation, where on a minute scale all the refinements and niceties of life were observed, and income and expenditure were so well balanced that there was always a margin to the good; but the Misses O'Shaughnessy, who bore themselves as queens in the neighbourhood, and were treated with truly loyal deference, owned hardly a decent gown between them, and were seriously exercised about spending an extra half-crown on a Christmas dinner!

"It's the trifles that mount up! I am a miser about pennies, but I can spend pounds with the best!" Bridgie explained; and Mademoiselle smiled meaningly, for had not the order just gone forth that the Castle was to be "illumined" once more for the arrival of the son and heir?

On Christmas Eve the rain fell in torrents, and, after a morning spent in preparations of one sort and another, the workers felt the need of a little amusing recreation. This did not seem easy to achieve, in this lonely habitation set in the midst of a rain-swept plain, but Bridgie's fertile brain came to the rescue, and proposed a scheme which kept the young people busy for the rest of the afternoon.

"I vote we have a fancy-dress dinner to-night!" she cried, at the conclusion of lunch. "Not an ordinary affair, but like the one the Pegrams enjoyed so much when they were spending the winter in Grindelwald. 'A sheet and pillow-case party,' they called it, for that is all you have out of which to make your dress. I will open the linen- box and give you each a pair of sheets, and a pillow-case for head-gear, and you must arrange them in your own rooms, and not let anyone see you until the gong rings. It really will be quite pretty--all the white figures against the flags and holly, and we shall feel more festive than in our ordinary clothes. I think it will be great fun, don't you?"

Great fun indeed! The O'Shaughnessy family was always ready for any excitement, and particularly so at Christmas-time, a season when we all feel that we _ought_ to be festive, and are injured in our minds if there is nothing to make us so.

Esmeralda fell at once to pleating her table-napkin into one shape after another, Mademoiselle smiled over a happy inspiration, whereupon wily Pat put on his most angelic look and asked--

"Will you dress me, Mademoiselle? A man's no good at this sort of thing. You can't fasten sheets with screws, and I'm no hand at fancy st.i.tching. I've an idea I'd look rather well as--" He whispered a few words in her ear, and Mademoiselle threw up her hands, and laughed, and nodded in emphatic a.s.sent.

Pixie and Miles fell to Bridgie's share, while the Major declared that he would have nothing to do with such foolishness, but with a ruminating expression on his face which belied the words.

Bridgie went upstairs immediately after lunch, and, opening her linen- chest, apportioned its contents among the different members of the family. Some wanted large sheets, some wanted small; some begged for frills to their pillow-cases, some preferred plain; but at last all were satisfied, and were further supplied with tape from the various work- baskets, while Pixie was sent a round of the bedrooms to pick up the pins, with which the floors were liberally scattered, as the demand in this direction was so large as to be practically unlimited.

Esmeralda flew off at once, with the boys in her train; but Mademoiselle lingered to help Bridgie to fold away the linen that was not needed, and to enjoy the luxury of a quiet chat, which was not an easy thing to accomplish in this noisy household. Bridgie in company was always laughing and gay, but the visitor had already noticed that Bridgie alone was apt to grow grave and to wear a wistful pucker on her brow. It was there now as she locked the chest and sat down on the lid, stretching out her arms with a sigh of weariness. The wintry light left the gallery full of shadows, and the only bright thing to be seen was the girl's own golden head outlined against the oak walls. Mademoiselle thought that if she had been an artist she could have wished for no fairer picture than this old-world corridor, with the fair face of the young mistress s.h.i.+ning out like a lily in the darkness; but the lily toiled more than she liked to see, and she could not restrain a protest against the custom which gave one sister all the work, and another all the play.

"You are tired already before the day is half over, and now you have those children's dresses to look after as well as your own! Why do you not make Esmeralda help, instead of doing everything yourself?"

"Esmeralda, is it?" Bridgie's face lit up with a smile as she repeated the name. "Indeed now, Mademoiselle, I'm never worked so hard in my life as when Esmeralda has been trying to help, and I have to tidy away after her! She has the best will in the world, poor thing; but work doesn't come naturally to her. You mustn't be hard on her. She shows her worst side to a stranger, for, though her first impulse may be selfish, when she takes time to think, she is all generosity and kindness. That habit, now! She was longing to have a fitted bodice, but she chose a coat, out of consideration for me. She is a darling, and so young yet that I don't like to worry her. Let her have a good time as long as she may. It will be hard enough soon."

Mademoiselle started and looked alarmed questionings, and Bridgie smiled in response, saying in cool, conversational tones--

"We are ruined, you know! We can't go on living here much longer.

Father has spent all his money, and we should have had to leave before now, but that he came into a little more at mother's death. It was not much, and it is going very fast. It can't be more than a year or two at most before the crash comes, so you can't wonder I let the boys and girls enjoy themselves, can you?"

"_Mais oui_! I wonder very much!" cried Mademoiselle, dismayed at what seemed to her prudent mind such a fatal way of preparing for a difficulty. "The kind thing surely would be to prepare them for what will come. It will make it more hard if they have never known work. In three years one can do much to prepare for a struggle. Why do you not speak to your sister, and say it is time to stop play? Why do you not send her away to work, and then perhaps the bad day need never come after all?"

Bridgie looked surprised, almost shocked at the suggestion. The easy- going Irish nature saw things in a different light from that taken by the thrifty Frenchwoman; moreover, the idea of girls working for themselves was still viewed as decidedly _infra dig_ by the old- fas.h.i.+oned inhabitants of Bally William. She gasped at the thought of her father's wrath at such a suggestion, then laughed at the idea of Esmeralda's earnings being large enough to stave off the coming ruin.

"I'm afraid it would be taking more than that to prevent it, Therese!

You don't know the state our landlords are in over here. There's no money to be got at all, and things go from bad to worse. Until mother died I didn't know how poor we were, and at first I wore myself to pieces saving pennies here and halfpennies there; but there's not much fun in saving twopence when nothing less than thousands of pounds would do any good. I grew tired of it, and says I to myself, 'A short life, and a merry one!' If I can't help, I'll just put the thought from my mind, and give the young ones a good time to remember. No use troubling the creatures before it's necessary!"

Mademoiselle grunted in eloquent disapproval, and wished to know whether the master of the house had been equally philosophical.

"Is it the Major?" cried Bridgie, laughing. "He never troubles himself about anything, and he has it all fitted up like a puzzle. Esmeralda is to marry a duke, Jack a countess in her own right, and meself a millionaire manufacturer, who will be so flattered at marrying an O'Shaughnessy that he will be proud to house Pixie into the bargain.

Pat and Miles are to go to London to seek their fortunes, and the Castle is to be let--to Jack and his wife by preference, but, failing them, to anyone who offers, when the Major can keep himself and his hunters on the rental without a 'Thank you' to anyone. It works out so beautifully when you hear him talk, that it seems folly to trouble oneself beforehand."

"And suppose you don't marry? Your country is full of old maids. And suppose the Castle does not let? It is very far from--anywhere!" said Mademoiselle, who had lived in the gayest city in the world, and felt the solitude of Bally William only a degree less absolute than that of the backwoods themselves. "Suppose none of these things of which you speak were to 'appen, what then?"

"Indeed, I can't tell you!" returned Bridgie, truthfully enough. "And-- excuse me, me love, it's not a very diverting suggestion for the time of year! Let me keep my millionaire, if it's only for the day, for by the same token I'm quite attached to him in prospect! Will you come and visit me, Therese, when I'm comfortably established in my soap bubble?"

She was laughing again, full of mischief and wilful impracticability, and Mademoiselle was tactful enough to realise that the time was not apt for pressing her lesson further. Later on she would return to the charge, but to-day at least might be safely given over to enjoyment.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

PAT'S TAUNT.

When the gong sounded that night two white-robed figures stole out of Mademoiselle's room, and crept quietly along the gallery. Pat was arrayed as a knight of old, wearing a pair of Esmeralda's old white stockings, surmounted by loose linen trunks, the rest of the sheet being ingeniously swathed round his body, and kept in place by such an elaborate cris-crossing of tape as gave the effect of a slashed doublet.

A thickly pleated cloak, (made out of sheet number two), hung over his shoulders, and the pillow-case was drawn into a cap, which was placed jauntily on the side of his head. As handsome a young knight as one could wish to see was Mr Patrick O'Shaughnessy, and the manner in which he held Mademoiselle's hand, and led her down the great staircase, evoked thunders of applause from the watchers beneath.

Mademoiselle herself looked worthy of her squire, for her dark, animated face stood the test of the unrelieved whiteness so successfully, that she was all ablush with delight at the discovery that she was not an old woman after all, but on occasion could still look as girlish as she felt. She was attired as a Normandy peasant, with turned-back skirt and loose white bodice; but the feature of the costume was undoubtedly the cap, which looked so extraordinarily like the real article that the sceptical refused to believe in its pillow-case origin, until the b.u.t.tonholes were exhibited in evidence.

"It is wonderful--wonderful! But how have you made it so stiff and crinkly?" the Major inquired curiously; and Mademoiselle laughed in gleeful triumph.

"I 'ave curled it with the curling tongs--not perhaps curl, but what the washerwoman would say--'goffer,' and for the rest, can you not see the wire? It is a piece I have taken upstairs after the decorations, and it is st.i.tched in to keep the folds in place; but I must keep my 'ead still, for it is not too strong. You are very fine too, sir. You are, I suppose, some old patrician?"

"Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears!" declaimed the Major, throwing his arms about with impa.s.sioned gestures. His white toga fell in graceful folds round his tall figure; his arms were bared to the elbows; he wore a twisted turban, which was impressive, if not exactly appropriate; and it was really an imposing spectacle to behold him strutting up and down the hall, with a great display of sandalled feet, of which he was evidently immensely proud.

Bridgie sat demurely on a high-backed chair, a sweet-faced nun, with her golden hair hidden from sight, and her dark-lashed eyes looking lovelier than ever when contrasted with the white bands across her forehead. She had been so busy dressing others that she had had no time to plan anything more elaborate for herself; but if she had worked for days she could not have hit on a costume more becoming to her style of beauty.

It was scarcely in character, however, to shriek aloud with laughter, as she did a moment later, as Mark Antony was suddenly arrested on his march by an apparition which leapt forward from behind a screen, and advanced upon him to an accompaniment of unearthly groanings.

Miles as a ghost was certainly an eerie figure; for by means of a stick strapped to his back the sheet was raised to an abnormal alt.i.tude, while a couple of tennis rackets held in either hand, made extended wings, with which to swoop about, and raise warning signals to the onlookers.

He chased Mark Antony until that cla.s.sic gentleman threatened fight with a poker; when he amused himself by groaning vigorously at Pixie, who had been attired as a "Lady in Waiting"--not, it must be confessed, with any striking success; and who was somewhat ruffled in her temper through constant trippings over her train.

"Ye stupid thing!" she cried crossly. "Be over hooting at me! If you are a bogie, you can go and haunt by yourself, and not molest your betters! It's the worst dress of the lot. Nothing but three sticks and the sheets in knots. You had better rest yourself a bit, and groan while we are at dinner, for your head is covered up that tight that you'll never be able to eat!"

"Trust me!" cried Miles, and somewhere about the middle of the ghost the white folds parted, and out peered a crimson face with twinkling eyes, and a mat of damp curls falling over the forehead. "You don't catch me taking any part which interfered with eating! Contrariwise--I'm best off of you all, for I have just to drop my sticks, and--there I am! The sheet falls down, and I eat my dinner in comfort, instead of being stewed alive, as you will be before it's half over."

"That's true for you! I feel as if I had mumps already!" sighed the nun sadly; but the next moment she gave a cry of delight, and pointed eagerly across the hall.

"Esmeralda! Oh, look! look!"

There had been so much to see and admire that the absence of the second daughter of the house had not been noticed; but even as Bridgie spoke each one realised that her late arrival was just what might have been expected. The beautiful Miss O'Shaughnessy had preferred to be sure of her audience before appearing upon the stage; for, to judge by the continuous rumble of the sewing-machine which had sounded from her room, she had bestowed no little pains upon her costume.

Great expectations are apt to be disappointed; but in this instance it is safe to say that the reality exceeded the wildest dreams, for it was almost impossible to believe that this charming figure owed her attire to no more promising materials than ordinary bed-linen! Esmeralda had aimed at nothing less ambitious than a Watteau costume, and the rumbling of the machine was accounted for by one glance at the elaborately quilted petticoat. She had folded a blanket between the double sheet, so as to give the effect of wadding, and an ancient crinoline held out the folds with old-world effect. For the rest she wore the orthodox panniers on the hips, and a bodice swathed as artistically as might be, round the beautiful bare neck and arms. Her hair was dressed high and powdered, and the pillow-case was drawn into the shape of a hood which dangled lightly over her arm. Half-way down the staircase she came to a stand, and stood sunning herself in the applause of the beholders, then came slowly forward, and, standing in the middle of the floor, revolved slowly round and round, so as to display every feature of her costume.

It was certainly a marvel of ingenuity, and amidst the general chorus of praise, Mademoiselle could not refrain from improving the occasion by remarking that such a good needlewoman should have no difficulty in turning dressmaker for her own and her sisters' benefit. The reply to this insinuation was a threatening grimace, and Esmeralda made haste to draw her father's attention to another topic.

"Aren't you proud of me now, father dear, and cut to the heart to think that no one will see me but yourself? Sure it's a crime to waste all this splendour on the desert air!"--and she rolled her eyes at him with a languis.h.i.+ng glance, and smiled so bewitchingly, that the Major rubbed his hands in delight, and fell unhesitatingly into the snare.

"Faith, and you're right! It's a perfect crime. We should have asked some of the neighbours to see you. Bridgie, why did you not think of that, now? We might have had a pleasant little party to amuse your friend, instead of taking all this trouble for nothing!"

"Not on two days' invitation, father, and besides, Jack is not here yet.

While he is at home, perhaps--"

"Yes, father, on New Year's Eve! Give us leave to ask some people on New Year's Eve, and we will plan such a wonderful programme as will be the talk for miles around. I'm brimful of ideas, and we have not had any sort of entertainment for two years now. Say we may ask them, won't you, dear?"

But at this the Major began to look uneasy, for it was one thing to find fault with Bridgie for not having given an invitation in the past, and quite another to be asked to sanction a fresh one in the future.

"Who will you be wanting to ask?" he queried anxiously. "Never did I meet such an exacting child! My mouth's no sooner opened than you are ready to jump inside! 'A wonderful programme,' says she. And who's to pay for it, may I ask? You would ruin me between you, you children, if I hadn't saved you the trouble long ago. How much will this entertainment be costing me now?"

"Oh, twopence halfpenny! Not more than that. We will kill the old turkey, that is so tough that he is fairly pleading to be killed, and use up the dessert from Christmas, and Mademoiselle shall make us some of her fine French dishes, and there will be so much going on that there will be very little time to eat. Make your mind easy, and trust to me."

"I'll see you through!" cried Esmeralda grandly; whereupon the Major shrugged his shoulders, and reflected cheerfully that a few pounds more or less made little difference. Let the girl have her way! she had been kept too long in seclusion as it was, and what was the use of possessing the most beautiful daughter in the county if you could not show her off to your friends once in a while?