rtains are drawn so snugly, are the boys and girls gathered round
the fire, the flames lighting up Bridgie's sweet face and Esmeralda's
stormy beauty? Oh, boys and girls, are you thinking of Pixie--your own
little Pixie?

"How that child does snort!" muttered Ethel impatiently. "It seems to
be our luck to have all the snorers in this room."

CHAPTER SIX.

A NOVEL AMUSEMENT.

During the weeks which followed, "Pixie's Prep" became a by-word among
her companions, for no amount of goading seemed sufficient to keep her
attention from roaming from her books during the hours when it was most
necessary that she should give them her undivided attention. However
sturdily she might begin, in ten minutes' time her eyes were wandering
about the room, she was scribbling on the margin of her book, or
twisting her handkerchief into a new variety of rag doll. The well-
meaning Kate, finding frowns and nudges losing their effect, resorted to
more drastic measures, such as the prick of a pin, or a tug of the elf-
like locks; but the victim's howls and protestations not only disturbed
her companions, but took so long to pacify that the experiment had to be
abandoned.

How Pixie managed to sustain even her very low place in the class was a
wonder to her companions; but in truth she had an unusually quick brain,
so that when she chose to apply herself she learnt as much as slower
girls would do in twice the time, while her Irish wit enabled her to
place her scraps of knowledge in the most advantageous light, and
rescued her from awkward questionings. Nowhere was this faculty more
marked than in French, of which she knew least, yet in which subject she
made the most rapid progress. It was clear to a pair of uncommonly
sharp eyes that Miss Phipps's leniency would some day come to an end,
and that she would then find herself in the position of being obliged
either to speak French or not to speak at all. To a born chatterbox the
latter alternative seemed the acme of misery, so it behoved her to
prepare for speech before the dread verdict was given, which she did in
a manner astonishing to her companions. Of French grammar she had the
poorest opinion, but she was sharp as a magpie to pick up the phrases of
others and store them for her own use. The morning after Mademoiselle
had suffered from a headache, Pixie's handkerchief was soaked with
offerings of eau-de-Cologne, from the various girls to whom she had
repeated ejaculation