“Pixie, you are freezing! What do you mean by not getting into bed? You will catch a chill, and then goodness knows what may happen! You may go into consumption and die.”
Pixie gave a dismal little sniff, and her teeth chattered together.
“That’s what I thought. A girl at Bally William died of a chill, and consumption’s in our family. Me mother’s cousin suffered from it every winter. I want to die!”
“Here, sit up! I am going to unhook you. Dear me, what a mess you have made of your fine collar! I don’t know what Lottie will say when she sees it. Lucky girl to be out to-night and escape all this fuss! She always gets the best of things. I never wish to spend such an evening again, I know that!”
“Pixie, why wouldn’t you tell? Why wouldn’t you answer Miss Phipps?” cried Flora, unable to contain herself a moment longer; and Pixie drew herself up, and tried to look dignified, a difficult achievement when one is being forcibly undressed, and can hardly see out of red, swollen eyelids.
“I told her I had not broken the bottle. I gave her a straight answer, and that ought to be enough for any lady!”
“Don’t talk such rubbish! This house is not yours, and if you go wandering about into strange rooms, it is only right that you should be made to explain. And it looks so bad when you refuse to answer. You don’t realise how bad it looks. After you left the room, Miss Phipps asked if we had heard you say anything which would explain your going into that room, and we all remembered—we didn’t want to tell, but we were obliged—we remembered that you said you intended to have a good look at the scent-bottle.”
“So I did, and I don’t mind who you tell. I looked at it the very next day, but I never lifted it once. I was too afraid I’d be hurting it, and it was all right long after that—Mademoiselle said so herself!”
The three girls looked at each other quickly, and as quickly averted their eyes. Ethel gave a toss to her curls, and walked off to her cubicle. Kate went on unhooking with relentless haste, and Flora sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, and melted into tears.
“I wish scent-bottles had never been invented! I wish that old marquise had had more sense than to spend her money on a thing that would break if you looked at it! I know how easy it would be. I’ve broken lots of things myself. Mother always said to us when we were children, ‘Don’t be afraid to tell me if you’ve had an accident. I will never scold you if you tell the truth, but if I find out that you have hidden anything from me I shall be extremely angry.’ Lots of girls tell stories just because they are frightened, especially little ones, and when they are strange, too, and don’t know people well. But we all love you, Pixie, really and truly we do! We won’t turn against you. Oh, do tell! Do tell! Tell Kate and me now before we go to bed, and we will help you to-morrow.”