Pixie wagged her head with an air of the deepest dejection. She was speculating as to the significance of tin-plates, but thought it tactful not to inquire.
“I hope—” she breathed deeply—“I hope the tin-plates—” and her companion gathered together her satchel and cloak in readiness for departure at the next station, nodding a cheerful reassurance.
“Oh, yes; quite prosperous again! Have been for years. But it only shows. ... And Papa has attacks of gout. They are trying, my dear, to me, as well as to himself; but if you love a man—well, it comes easier. ... Here’s my station. So glad to have met you! I’ll remember about the purple.”
The train stopped, and the good lady alighted and passed through the wicket-gate, and her late companion watched her pass with a sentimental sigh.
“‘Ships that pass in the night, and signal each other in passing.’ She took to me, and I took to her. She’ll talk about me all evening to May and Felicia, and the tin-plate Papa, and ten chances to one we’ll never meet again. ‘It’s a sad world, my masters!’” sighed Pixie, and dived in her bag for a chocolate support.
The rest of the journey brought no companion so confidential, and Pixie was heartily glad to arrive at her destination, and as the train slackened speed to run into the station, to catch a glimpse of Esmeralda sitting straight and stately in a high cart ready to drive her visitor back to the Hall. Motors were very well in their way—useful trainlets ready to call at one’s own door and whirl one direct to the place where one would be, but the girl who had hunted with her father since she was a baby of four years old was never so happy as when she was in command of a horse. As the new-comer climbed up into the high seat the beautiful face was turned towards her with a smile as sweet and loving as Bridgie’s own.
“Well, Pixie! Ah, dearie, this is good. I’ve got you at last.”
“Esmeralda, darling! What an angel you look!”
“Don’t kiss me in public, please,” snapped Esmeralda, becoming prosaic with startling rapidity at the first hint of visible demonstration. She signalled to the groom, and off they went, trotting down the country lane in great contentment of spirits.
“How’s everybody?” asked Esmeralda. “Well? That’s right. You can tell me the details later on. Now, you have just to forget Bridgie for a bit, and think of Me. I’ve wanted you for years, and I told Bridgie to her face she was selfish to keep you away. If I’m not a good example, you can take example by my faults, and isn’t that just as good? And there’s so much that I want you to do. You always loved to help, didn’t you, Pixie?”