“But aren’t you ever naughty?” she asked anxiously. “Not really bad, you know, but just mischeevious! Don’t you ever play tricks, or have pillow fights, or secret suppers up in your room, or dress up as bogeys to frighten the others?”
“Certainly not!” Eleanor Hopton was a proper and dignified young lady, and the straightness of her back was quite alarming as she frowned dissent at the new-comer. “Frighten people, indeed! Do you not call that naughty? It’s a wicked and dangerous thing to do, and you would be punished severely if you attempted it. I have read of people who died of fright. How would you feel if you played bogey, as you call it, to startle one of the girls, and she had a weak heart and died before your eyes? You would feel pretty miserable then, I should say.”
“I would so! I’d get the fright myself that time. But suppers, now,—suppers don’t hurt anyone!” urged Pixie, pushing aside one objectionable proposition and bringing forward the next with unconscious generalship. “Don’t you ever smuggle things upstairs—sausages and cakes, and sardines and cream—and wake up early in the morning—early—early, before it is light—and eat them together, and pretend you are ladies and gentlemen, or shipwrecked mariners on desert islands, or wild Indians, or anything like that, and talk like they talk, and dance about the room?”
“Cer-tain-ly not! The very idea!” cried Eleanor once more. “I never heard of anything so silly. Why on earth should one sit up shivering to eat things in the middle of the night, when one can have them comfortably downstairs at the right hour? I should not think of doing anything so foolish.”
Pixie sighed heavily. This was England indeed! For the first time since entering the house she realised that she was a stranger in a strange land. Eleanor’s calm commonsense was so entirely foreign to her nature that she felt a distinct chilling of the new affection. The companion on her right looked more sympathetic, and she addressed her next remark in that direction.
“We were for ever playing tricks on one another at home. Bridgie and Esmeralda sleep in the same bed, and one day Pat—that’s the second boy—the next but one to me—he went to Bridgie and he says, ‘I’ve played a fine joke on Esmeralda! Ask no questions, but just wait up until she gets into bed to-night, and you’ll have the best laugh you’ve had this side Christmas.’ Then off he goes to Esmeralda, and ‘Keep a secret!’ says he. ‘Let Bridget be the first to get into bed to-night. Make an excuse and sit up yourself to see the fun, for she’ll have a fine surprise when she lies down.’ The girls guessed that they had been taking the laths off the bed, as they had done once or twice before, to let a visitor fall through on to the floor, and it was a very cold night, and they were tired, for they had been working hard mending the staircase carpet; and says Bridgie to Esmeralda, ‘Just hurry up, can’t you! I never did see such a girl for dawdling. Get into bed,’ she says, ‘and don’t sit up all night.’ ‘Oh,’ says Esmeralda, smiling, ‘I’ve a fancy to brush out me hair. Take no notice of me, but just lie down and turn your face to the wall, and I’ll be as quiet as a mouse.’ ‘I never can sleep with a light in the room,’ says Bridgie, quite testy... I was in my own bed in the dressing-room, so I heard what they said, and was stuffing the bedclothes into my mouth not to laugh out and spoil the fun. ‘If you are going to make a night of it, I’ll sit down and read, and you can let me know when you are ready.’ ‘You will catch cold sitting in that draught!’ Esmeralda says, her own teeth chattering, for it was mortal cold, and there was a hole in the window above her head, where Pat had thrown up a stone when he wanted to wake her one morning, and couldn’t spare time to walk upstairs. ‘And you know, Bridget, you are always delicate on the chest.’ ‘It’ll be on your head, then,’ says Bridgie, ‘if I am made ill, keeping me up when I’m longing for my bed! Come, dear,’ wheedling her to see if she could get round that way, ‘leave it alone now, and I’ll brush it for you in the morning. It is beautiful hair, and Mrs Gallagher the laundress was saying to me this morning there wasn’t its match in the country.’ And Esmeralda said afterwards that she was too cold for compliments, so she up and said it was her own hair, and she’d brush it when she liked, and how she liked, without interference from anyone; and at that they grew mad, and began quarrelling with each other, and throwing up everything that ever they did since they were short-coated, and meself lying trembling on me bed, to think what would happen next. Joan—that’s Esmeralda—she would have sat up all night, she’s that obstinate, but Bridgie grew tired, and says she, ‘I’m not going to catch me death shivering here for all the jokes on earth, so here goes, and I don’t care what happens!’ and with that she throws herself down on the bed; and—would ye believe it?—nothing happened at all. The bed was as right as it had been all its life, and the boys had had their joke without any trouble.”
Pixie finished in the midst of a dead silence, for one by one the speakers round the table had paused to listen to the soft Irish voice, and the story once begun had riveted attention. Some of the girls laughed outright, some held down their heads to conceal their smiles, some nudged their companions and looked demurely at Miss Phipps to take their cue from her face. She was undoubtedly smiling, but she looked worried all the same, and gave the signal for rising in a hurried manner, as if anxious to allow no time for comment. The girls rose and filed slowly past, Pixie skipping complacently in front, with her arm round another new friend, whom she was prepared to adore even more fondly than the last. Only Margaret remained behind to assist in putting the room in order, and when the door shut Miss Phipps looked at her under raised appealing brows.
“I am afraid we have rather a difficult subject there, Margaret! Poor little thing! Her father says she has been allowed to run wild, and it will be difficult for her to get into school ways. She doesn’t mean to be forward, but of course we can’t allow her to go on like this. She must be taught wholesome respect and reticence, but I don’t want to be too hard upon her at first. She’s a lovable little creature, and I’ve no doubt will be a favourite with the girls. They like to be amused, and I fear they may encourage her for the sake of their own amusement. You must help me, dear, by setting a good example and checking her gently when she gets excited.”
“I’ll try!” said Margaret, but she looked by no means hopeful of success. “I did try before tea. She was telling the most extraordinary tales about home, and I said it was not right to repeat such things, but she seemed quite puzzled. She doesn’t seem to have the same ideas that we have, or the same feelings about things.”
Miss Phipps sighed, and shook her head.