She was a quaint-looking little soul, the young fellow decided--plain- looking, he had thought on first sight, but there was something oddly attractive about the wide eyes and large curving lips; you wanted to look at them once and yet again, and each time you looked the attraction increased. What was it? Not beauty, not intellect, not wit--nothing, it appeared, but a crystalline sincerity and sweetness of heart, which exercised an irresistible claim on the affections. His face softened, and he bent towards her with a kindly questioning. "How do you come to be governessing these children? You are so young still--sixteen--seventeen, is it? You ought to be in the schoolroom yourself!" "There was nothing else I could do, and I wanted to earn some money, because we're poor. I'm small, but I've known a lot of trouble," replied Pixie, with a complacent air which was distinctly trying to her companion's composure. He stroked his moustache to hide the twitching lips, and said solemnly-- "I'm sorry--very sorry to hear that! I hope, however, it is all in the past. You look remarkably cheerful now." "That's because I'm helping; and we are such a nice family at home. If you are with the people you like best, that makes you happy, doesn't it, without thinking of anything else?" "Yes," he said shortly, and rose from his seat to walk across to where the children were scrambling on the grass. They leapt on him, and hung on his arms; and he played with them for five or ten minutes, then produced a packet of chocolate from a pocket, and giving it to Pixie to distribute, made his escape to the house. CHAPTER TWENTY NINE. A CONFIDENCE. During the next few days the "Capting," as Viva called him, was constantly deserting his companions to join himself to the schoolroom party in their walks and games. As Pixie had suspected, his heart was sore, and the innocent affection which the children lavished upon him made their society more congenial than that of his own companions, who were enjoying their stay in the country in merry, uproarious fashion. Viva and Inda were interesting and original children, while "Mamzelle Paddy" was a house-party in herself--a delicious combination of shrewdness and innocence. He had little chance of private conversation with her, for the children were exacting in their demands; but their intimacy rapidly increased, as was only natural under the circumstances. It was impossible to remain on formal terms with one who was united with yourself to withstand an assault of wild savages, as portrayed by two little girls with branches of bracken waving above their heads, and geranium petals stuck in ferocious patterns about their cheeks; impossible not to feel an affection for the tallest member of the battalion which marched regularly every morning to the corner of the paddock to be drilled by their commander, scarlet sashes crossed sideways over holland dresses, and Panama hats fastened by immaculate black chin-straps.