Chapter Ten.
Pixie Gives Joan a Tonic.
A romp with the children restored Pixie’s elastic spirits, and brought a revived wish for her friends’ society. She leaned out of the window and beheld a game of tennis on in obvious need of a fourth player, waved gaily in response to a general beckoning, and tripped downstairs singing a glad refrain. And then, in the corridor outside her boudoir, behold a pale and tragic Esmeralda summoning her with a dramatic hand. Pixie flounced, and a quiver of indignation stiffened her small body. A whole hour of a lovely spring morning had already been spent in struggling to overcome the depression caused by the scene at breakfast, and here was Joan obviously preparing a second edition. Pixie was no niggard in sympathy, but for the moment she had other views. Two charming young men were waiting without in the sunshine, and any ordinary human girl prefers the sunshine and masculine society, to a room indoors and an hysterical sister. Therefore, being excessively human, Pixie flounced, and looked bored and impatient. She entered the room and shut the door behind her.
“What’s the matter now?”
The answer was sufficiently unexpected.
“Pixie, if I die will you promise me faithfully to live here and take charge of my orphan boys?”
“I will not!” snapped Pixie sharply. It was just what might have been expected for Esmeralda to picture her own tragic death as the result of a passing squall. Quite possibly she had been sitting for the last hour picturing the stages of her own decline and the grief of the survivors. Strong common sense was the best remedy she could have. “I hope to have my own home to look after. And they are too spoiled. I wouldn’t undertake the charge.”
“Somebody,” croaked Esmeralda deeply, “somebody must look after my boys!”