What did the child mean? Had she any secret theory as to her own origin; and, if so, was she subtly intent upon discounting her first avowal? She may have wished to imply that no real necessity was for her self-depreciation. She may have wished only to divert the course of her neighbour’s thoughts. He was about to answer in some astonishment, ridiculing the suggestion, when Mr Sheridan hailed Pamela from his place opposite.
“A nosegay!” he cried, tapping his own flushed cheek in illustration. “Give me a rose to wear for a favour.”
“It is easy,” said the girl. Her eyes sparkled. She turned to a servant. “Go, fetch for Mr Sherree-den my rouge in the little box,” she said.
“Fie, then, naughty child!” cried madame; “it merits you rather to receive the little box on the ear.” But the great orator chuckled with laughter.
“Pigwidgeon, pigwidgeon!” he said, nodding his head at the culprit. “Not for youth and health are rouge and enamel, and all the vestments of vanity.”
“Not eiser for youth or age,” said madame severely.
“But only for ugliness,” said Sheridan.
“No,” said madame—“nor for zat. It is all immoral.”
“Immoral!” he cried; “immoral to put a good face on misfortune!” He looked only across the table, over the brim of his glass, when he had uttered his mot. He delighted to make the girl laugh. His own wonderful eyes would seem to ripple with merriment when he saw the light of glee spring forward in hers. Pigwidgeon he called her, and she answered to the name with all the sprightliness it expressed.
“Pigwidgeon,” says he, “when you come to the age of crow’s foot, you shall know ’tis a lying proverb that preacheth what’s done cannot be undone, or, as a pedantic fellow writes it, ‘what cannot be repaired is not to be regretted.’”