reaching midway between the knees and the ankles, and showing
little bare feet encased in sandals. A few white blossoms were held
loosely in one hand, and in the other a long white scroll--the page on
which was to be inscribed the history of an untried path.

Pixie's face was white and awed, for the solemnity of the occasion and
the poetry of the impersonation alike appealed to her emotional nature,
and there was an expression upon the plain little face which was more
impressive than any mere pink and white prettiness, as more than one of
the onlookers remarked with astonishment.

"Who could have believed that that child could look like that?" cried
Geoffrey Hilliard to Mademoiselle, and that young lady tossed her head
with an impatient movement.

"Why not, pray? If Pixie is not pretty, she is something better--she is
_spirituelle_!" for it had come to this, that Mademoiselle could not
endure to hear Pixie adversely criticised, and resented a depreciating
remark as hotly as if it had had reference to herself.

At this point the formal programme came to an end, and the guests
hurried forward to shake hands with their hosts and thank them over and
over again for the entertainment which they had provided, while the
choristers shed their monk-like robes, (nothing after all but mackintosh
cloaks with hoods cut out of black calico!) and appeared once more in
evening dress. The way was led to the dining-room, where refreshments
were spread out on the long table, and there was much drinking of
healths and exchanging of good wishes for the New Year. Everyone was
hungry and happy, and Mademoiselle's cakes and jellies were much
appreciated; but Esmeralda sighed as she looked around, and ate
sandwiches with such a pensive air that Hilliard demanded the reason of
her depression.

"This!" she sighed, holding out the half-eaten fragment, on which was
plainly circled the mark of small white teeth. "It hurts my sense of
fitness. We should have had boar's head and venison, and a sheep
roasted whole. We have some lovely old silver dishes which would have
held them, but--" the "but" was significant, and she raised her
beautiful shoulders with a shrug--"those days have departed. We have to
be content with sandwiches now."

"There's no limit to one, surely," Hilliard replied gravely. "We will
keep this plate to ourselves, for I am prepared to eat a very good half,
and you must be hungry after your exertions. I can't tell how