would have seemed appropriate at such a moment, but exhibited rather a
cheerful and gratified air, as though her own poverty were an amusing
peculiarity which added to the list of her attractions.

"Of course, my dear, nobody ever dreamt for a moment it could be _done_,
but it's always interesting to pretend. Don't we amuse ourselves for
hours pretending to be millionaires, when you're all of a flutter about
eighteen-pence extra in the laundry bill? I wonder at _you_, Bridgie,
pretending to be practical."

"I'm sorry," said Bridgie humbly. A pang of conscience pierced her
heart, for had it not been her own extravagance which had swelled the
laundry bill by that terrible eighteen-pence? Penitence engendered a
more tender spirit, and she said gently--

"We love your looks, Pixie. To us you seem lovely and beautiful."

"Bless your blind eyes! I know I do. But," added Pixie astonishingly,
"I wasn't thinking of you!"

"_Not_!" A moment followed of sheer, gaping surprise, for Bridgie
Victor was so accustomed to the devotion of her young sister, so
placidly, assured that the quiet family life furnished the girl with,
everything necessary for her happiness, that the suggestion of an
outside interest came as a shock. "_Not_!" she repeated blankly.
"Then--then--who?"

"My lovers!" replied Pixie calmly.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

And looking back through the years, it always seemed to Bridgie Victor
that with the utterance of those words the life of Pixie O'Shaughnessy
entered upon a new and absorbing phase.

CHAPTER TWO.

PIXIE'S VIEWS ON MARRIAGE.

Bridgie Victor sat gazing at her sister in a numb bewilderment. It was
the first, the very first time that the girl had breathed a word
concerning the romantic possibilities of her own life, and even
Bridgie's trained imagination failed to rise to the occasion. Pixie!
Lovers! Lovers! Pixie! ... The juxtaposition of ideas was too
preposterous to be grasped. Pixie was a child, the baby of the family,
just a bigger, more entertaining baby to play with the tinies of the
second generation, who treated her as one of themselves, and one and all
scorned to bestow the title of "aunt."

There was a young Patricia in the nursery at Knock Castle, and a second
edition in the Victor nursery upstairs; but though the baptismal name of
the little sister had been copied, not even the adoring mothers
themselves would have