The Love Affairs of Pixie

________________________________________________________________________ Here we have yet again the lovable Pixie, the youngest child of the O'Shaughnessy family, who had all been brought up at Knock Castle, in Ireland, and about whom two previous books have been written. None of the family can quite get their minds round the fact that Pixie is now old enough to have affairs, and even to marry, especially as they are all aware how very plain she is.

But Pixie has other ideas. She becomes engaged to Stanor Vaughan, a very good-looking young rising businessman, whose very rich but disabled uncle is his guardian. The uncle suggests that Stanor should go to America for a couple of years, to become a bit more mature.

Meanwhile there is very nasty and sudden accident to little Jack, an angelic little boy, whom everybody adores. Will he survive?

Eventually Stanor returns to London. But things have sorted themselves out rather better than we would have thought after the first few chapters.

This book was printed in a very heavy type on thinnish paper. It was a mistake to scan it on the default brightness setting, and it was very difficult to clean out all the misreads. There may yet be a few, but not many, I hope. These will be taken out eventually, I hope.

________________________________________________________________________ THE LOVE AFFAIRS OF PIXIE, BY MRS GEORGE DE HORNE VAIZEY.

CHAPTER ONE.

THE QUESTION OF NOSES.

When Pixie O'Shaughnessy had reached her twentieth birthday it was borne in upon her with the nature of a shock that she was not beautiful. Hitherto a buoyant and innocent self-satisfaction, coupled with the atmosphere of love and admiration by which she was surrounded in the family circle, had succeeded in blinding her eyes to the very obvious defects of feature which the mirror portrayed. But suddenly, sharply, her eyes were opened.

"Did it ever occur to you, Bridgie, my dear, that I've grown-up plain?" she demanded of her sister, Mrs Victor, as the two sat by the fire one winter afternoon, partaking luxuriously of strong tea and potato cakes, and at the sound of such a surprising question Mrs Victor started as if a crack of thunder had suddenly pealed through the quiet room. She stared in amazement; her big, grey eyes widened dramatically.

"My good child," she demanded sternly, "whatever made you think of asking such a preposterous question?"

"'Twas borne in on me!" sighed Pixie sadly. "It's the way with life; ye go jog-trotting along, blind and cheerful, until suddenly ye bang your head against a wall, and your eyes are opened! 'Twas the same with me. I looked at myself every day, but I never saw. Habit, my dear, blindfolded me like a bandage, and looking at good-looking people all day long it seemed only natural that I should look nice too. But this morning the sun shone, and I stood before the glass twisting about to try on my new hat, and, Bridgie, the truth was revealed! My nose!"

"What's the matter with your nose?" demanded Mrs Victor. Her own sweet, delicately cut face was flushed with anger, and she sat with stiffened back staring across the fireplace as if demanding compensation for a personal injury.

Pixie sighed, and helped herself to another slice of potato cake.

"It scoops!" she said plaintively. "As you love me, Bridgie, can you deny it scoops?" And as if to illustrate the truth of her words she twisted her head so as to present her little profile for her sister's inspection.