Pixie's amusement, it will be noticed, was but a secondary consideration to Joan's own ease and comfort; for though it may be a very enjoyable experience to be a society beauty and exchange poverty for riches, no one will be brave enough to maintain that such an experience is conducive to the growth of spiritual qualities. Sweet-hearted Bridgie might possibly have come unscathed through the ordeal, but Esmeralda was made of a different clay. Pixie started alone on the three hours' journey, for the Victor household possessed no maid who could be spared, and husband and wife were both tied by home duties; moreover, being a modern young woman, she felt perfectly competent to look after herself, and looked forward to the experience with pleasure rather than dread. Bridgie was inclined to be tearful at parting, and Pixie's artistic sense prompted a similar display, but she found herself simply incapable of forcing a tear. "It's worse for you than for me," she confessed candidly, "for you've nothing to do, poor creature! But go home to cold mutton and darning, while I'm off to novelty and adventure. That's why the guests sometimes cry at a wedding, out of pity for themselves, because they can't go off on a honeymoon with a trousseau and an adoring groom. They pretend it's sympathetic emotion, but it isn't; it's nothing in the world but selfish regret. ... Don't cry, darling; it makes me feel so mean. Think of the lovely _tete-a-tete_ this will mean for Dick and you!" "Yes--in the evenings. I'll love that!" confessed Bridgie, with the candour of her race. "But oh, Pixie, the long, dull days, and no one to laugh with me at the jokes the English can't see, or to make pretend!--" "Ah!" mourned Pixie deeply, "I'll miss that, too! The times we've had, imagining a fortune arriving by the afternoon post, and spending it all before dinner! All the fun, and none of the trouble. But it's dull, imagining all by oneself! And Dick's no good. He calls it waste of time! I shall marry an Irishman, Bridgie, when my time comes!" "Get into the train and don't talk nonsense!" said Bridgie firmly. She felt it prophetic that on this eve of departure Pixie's remarks should again touch on husbands and weddings, but not for the world would she have hinted as much. She glanced at the other occupant of the carriage--a stout, middle-aged woman, and was on the point of inviting her chaperonage when a warning gleam in Pixie's eyes silenced the words on her lips. So presently the train puffed out of the station, and Bridgie Victor turned sadly homewards even as Pixie seated herself with a bounce, and smiled complacently into space.