An hour later, when Sylvia went up to her room, it was impossible to resist drawing aside the blind to look across the road, and in an instant, another blind was pulled back, and a tall dark figure stood clearly outlined against the lighted background.
Sylvia understood that Jack had been watching for her advent, and felt comforted by his presence, and all that was meant by that waving hand. She wondered whether she had better write to Esmeralda, or try to see her in person, but the question was decided by Pixie, who came over early the next morning to announce Mrs Hilliard’s arrival in the afternoon.
“She wants to see you, and say she’s sorry,” she explained, and when Sylvia exhausted herself in expressions of gratitude and delight, “Oh, Esmeralda would give you her skin if it would fit ye!” she said coolly. “She’s the kindest of us all when she isn’t cross. Give her her way, and you may have all the rest. I’ve known her raise the roof on us, and appealing to every relation we owned, to get what she wanted, and then wrap it up in brown paper that very day, and post it back where it came. I’m glad ye like it so much. Now if I’d been clever, and bought some more paints when those people wanted me, maybe I could have done it for you meself.” Her face grew suddenly grave and wistful.
“When I got my telegram at school, the girls all brought me home presents from the walk—pencil-boxes, and jujubes, and a little toy rabbit that wagged its head. I don’t know how it was, but they soothed my feelings! I should have liked to buy you something, Sylvia, but I don’t get my wages till the end of the month, and then they are spent. You’ll excuse me, won’t you, me dear, for you know I am sorry!”
“My darling girl, I don’t want presents! Come to see me as often as you can, and go on being fond of me—that’s all I want,” cried Sylvia warmly, and Pixie brightened once more.
“There’s no credit in that. It isn’t as if you were nasty. I’ll not be able to call on ye as often as I’d like, for I’m off to the seaside. Mrs Wallace has taken a house on the Thames, and her cousin is coming home from the wars and a friend with him, and lots of ladies and gentlemen all staying in the house to be entertained, so they want me to go too. Of course!”
“Of course,” repeated Sylvia gravely. There was something so charming in Pixie’s simple assumption that everyone desired her company, that she would not for the world have tried to destroy it. “I hope you will enjoy yourself very much, dear, and come back with some colour in your cheeks, though I am afraid that particular part of the ‘seaside’ is not very bracing. Tell Mrs Hilliard with my love that I shall be charmed to see her this afternoon!”