follow her wishes, as
the few thousands which fell to him at her death enabled him to pay off
his more pressing debts and enjoy a temporary feeling of affluence.
Jack went back to his office in London, where he had betaken himself
three years before, to the disgust of the father, who considered it more
respectable for an O'Shaughnessy to be in debt than to work for his
living in the City among City men. Pat and Miles remained at home,
ostensibly to help on the estate, and in reality to shoot rabbits and
get into mischief with the farm hands. Miss Minnitt was discharged,
since Bridgie must now be occupied with household duties, and Joan was
satisfied that her education was finished. And the verdict went forth
that Pixie was to go to school.

"Your mother was always grieving that she could not educate your sisters
like other girls, and it was her wish that you should have a chance.
I'll send you to London to the best school that can be found, if I have
to sell the coat off my back to do it," said the Major fervently; for
there was no sacrifice which he was not ready to make--in anticipation,
and he hoped to discover a school which did not demand payments in
advance. He patted the child on the shoulder in congratulation; but
Pixie was horrified, and, opening her mouth, burst into howls and yells
of indignation.

"I won't! I shan't! I hate school! I won't go a step! I'll stay at
home and have Miss Minnitt to teach me! I won't! I won't! I won't!"

The Major smiled and stroked his moustache. He was used to Pixie's
outbursts, and quite unperturbed thereby, although a stranger would have
quailed at the sound, and would certainly have imagined that some
horrible form of torture was being employed. Pixie checked herself
sufficiently to peep at his face, realised that violence was useless,
and promptly changed her tactics. She whimpered dismally, and essayed
cajolery.

"It will break me heart to leave you. Father darlin', let me stay!
What will you do without your little girl at all?"

"I'll miss you badly, but it's for your own good. That brogue of yours
is getting worse and worse. And such a fine school, too! Think of all
you will be able to learn!"

"Me education's finished," said Pixie haughtily. "I know me tables and
can read me books, and write a letter when I want, and that's all that's
required of a young gentlewoman living at home with her parents. I've
heard you say so meself--a hundred times,