year!" remarked the small person,
making no sign of giving up her seat, but waving blandly towards the
cane chairs by the wall. "I'm the new girl, I come from Ireland. Me
father brought me. I'm the youngest of six, and I've come to school to
correct me brogue, and be polished up. As soon as I've finished I shall
go back to me home!"

The head girl came over to the fireplace, and stared downwards with wide
grey eyes. She looked almost grown-up, for her hair was twisted round
and round like a lady's, and her dress reached to her ankles.

"That's very interesting!" she said slowly. "I am glad you have made
yourself comfortable, for from what you say I expect we shall have you
with us for quite a long time. Can't you tell us some more family
details while you are about it?"

"I can so!" said Pixie with emphasis, and sitting erect in her seat she
folded her hands in her lap, and began to talk. The room was filling by
this time, for the quarter of an hour before tea was a cosy holiday-
time, when the girls could talk without restraint, and compare notes on
the work of the day. One by one they approached the fireside, until
Pixie's chair was surrounded by a compact wall of laughing young faces,
and thirty pairs of eyes stared at her from head to foot, back again
from foot to head. Her black skirt was so short that it was like a
flounce, and nothing more; from chest to back there was no more width
than could be covered by the scraggy little arm, the feet dangled half-
way to the floor, and the hands waved about, emphasising every sentence
with impassioned gestures.

At the end of ten minutes what the pupils of Holly House did not know
about the O'Shaughnessy family may be safely described as not worth
knowing! They had been treated to graphic descriptions of all its
members, with illustrative anecdotes setting them forth in their best
and worst lights; they had heard of the ancient splendours of the
Castle, and the past glories of the family, and--for Pixie was gifted
with a most engaging honesty--they had also heard of the present
straitness of means, the ingenious contrivances by which the family
needs were supplied, and even of one tragic episode when the butcher
refused to supply any more meat, just when one of the county magnates
was expected to dinner! It had been a ghastly occasion, but Bridgie
went and "spoke soft to him," and he was a decent man, and he said it
wasn't for "all the mutton in the world,"