"Dick and I have been feeling, my dear, that as you are now really grown-up, you ought to be having a livelier time than we can give you in this strange town, and Esmeralda has been saying the same thing for years past. She feels we have been rather selfish in keeping you so much to ourselves, and thinks that it is her turn to have you to live with her for a time. We think so too, Pixie. Not for altogether, of course. For three or four months, say; and then you might go over to Knock, and come back to us again for Christmas. Of course, darling, you understand that we don't _want_ you to go!" Pixie stared silently across the table. She had grown rather white, and her brows were knitted in anxious consideration. "Bridget Victor," she said solemnly, "is it the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth you are telling me, or is it just an excuse to get me out of the way? If there's any trouble, or worry, or illness, or upset coming on, that you want to spare me because I'm young, you'd better know at once that it will only be the expense of the journey wasted, for on the very first breath of it I'd fly back to you if it was across the world!" "I know it," said Bridgie, and blinked back a tear. "But it's the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, Pixie, that we are the happiest, and the healthiest, and the contentedest little family in the country, and there's no need to worry about us. We were thinking only of you, and you are free in this instance to think only of yourself." "That's agreeable!" was Pixie's comment. The frown left her brow and she smiled, the wide lips parting to show brilliantly white little teeth, teeth very nearly as pretty and infantile as those belonging to the small Patsie upstairs. Beholding that smile, Bridgie had no doubt as to the verdict which she was about to hear, and suffered an unreasoning pang of disappointment. "Then I'll confess to you, my dear," continued Pixie affably, "that I find myself just in the mood for excitement. So long as you are well there's nothing on earth I'd love so much at this moment as to go off on a junket. If Esmeralda wants to give me a good time, let the poor thing have her way--_I'll_ not hinder her! I'll go, and I'll love it; but I'll not promise how long I shall stay--all sorts of things may happen." "Yes," said Bridgie dreamily, "all sorts of things!" And so Pixie O'Shaughnessy went forth to meet her fate. CHAPTER FIVE. IN MARBLE HALLS. Mrs Geoffrey Hilliard, _nee_ Joan O'Shaughnessy, was the second daughter of the family, and had been christened Esmeralda "for short" by the brothers and sisters of whom she had been alternately the pride and the trial. The fantastic name had an appropriateness so undeniable that even Joan's husband had adopted it in his turn for use in the family circle, reserving the more dignified "Joan" for more ceremonious occasions.