_me_, as well as to himself; but if you love a man--well, it comes
easier. ... Here's my station. So glad to have met you! I'll remember
about the purple."

The train stopped, and the good lady alighted and passed through the
wicket-gate, and her late companion watched her pass with a sentimental
sigh.

"`Ships that pass in the night, and signal each other in passing.' She
took to me, and I took to her. She'll talk about me all evening to May
and Felicia, and the tin-plate Papa, and ten chances to one we'll never
meet again. `It's a sad world, my masters!'" sighed Pixie, and dived in
her bag for a chocolate support.

The rest of the journey brought no companion so confidential, and Pixie
was heartily glad to arrive at her destination, and as the train
slackened speed to run into the station, to catch a glimpse of Esmeralda
sitting straight and stately in a high cart ready to drive her visitor
back to the Hall. Motors were very well in their way--useful trainlets
ready to call at one's own door and whirl one direct to the place where
one would be, but the girl who had hunted with her father since she was
a baby of four years old was never _so_ happy as when she was in command
of a horse. As the new-comer climbed up into the high seat the
beautiful face was turned towards her with a smile as sweet and loving
as Bridgie's own.

"Well, Pixie! Ah, dearie, this is good. I've got you at last."

"Esmeralda, _darling_! What an angel you look!"

"Don't kiss me in public, _please_," snapped Esmeralda, becoming prosaic
with startling rapidity at the first hint of visible demonstration. She
signalled to the groom, and off they went, trotting down the country
lane in great contentment of spirits.

"How's everybody?" asked Esmeralda. "Well? That's right. You can tell
me the details later on. Now, you have just to forget Bridgie for a
bit, and think of _Me_. I've wanted you for years, and I told Bridgie
to her face she was selfish to keep you away. If I'm not a good
example, you can take example by my faults, and isn't that just as good?
And there's so much that I want you to do. You always loved to help,
didn't you, Pixie?"

"I did," assented Pixie, but the quick ears of the listener detected a
hint of hesitation in the sound. The dark eyebrows arched in haughty
questioning, and Pixie, no whit abashed, shrugged her shoulders and
confessed with a laugh: "But to tell you the truth, my dear, it was not
so