The college was quite shut away in its own grounds, and only from the
upper windows did the girls get a peep of the old University town of
Kingsdene. From these, however, particularly in the winter, they could
see the gabled colleges, the chapels with their rich glory of
architecture, and the smooth lawns of the college gardens as they sloped
gently down to the river.
St Benet's, the College for Women, was approached by a private road,
and high entrance gates obstructed the gaze of the curious. Inside
there were cheerful halls and pleasant gardens, and gay, fresh,
unrestrained life. But the passer-by got no peep of these things unless
the high gates happened to be open.
This was the first evening of term, and most of the girls were back.
There was nothing very particular going on, and they were walking about
the gardens, and greeting old friends, and telling each other their
experiences, and more or less picking up the threads which had been
broken or loosened in the long vacation.
The evenings were drawing in, but the pleasant twilight which was soon
to be rendered brilliant by the full moon seemed to the girls even nicer
than broad daylight to linger about in. They did not want to go into
the houses; they flitted about in groups here and there, chatting and
laughing merrily.
St Benet's had three Halls, each with its own Vice-Principal, and a
certain number of resident students. Each Hall stood in its own
grounds, and was more or less a complete home in itself. There were
resident lecturers and demonstrators for the whole college, and one Lady
Principal, who took the lead, and was virtually head of the college.
Miss Vincent was the name of the present Principal. She was an old
lady, and had a Vice-Principal under her at Vincent Hall, the largest
and newest of these spacious homes, where young women received the
advantages of University instruction to prepare them for the battle of
life.
Priscilla was to live at Heath Hall--a slightly smaller house, which
stood at a little distance away--its grounds being divided from the
grounds of Vincent Hall by means of a rustic paling. Miss Heath was the
very popular Vice-Principal of this Hall, and Prissie was considered a
fortunate girl to obtain a home in her house. She sat now a forlorn and
rather scared young person, huddled up in one corner of the fly which
turned in at the wide gates, and finally deposited her and her luggage
at the back entrance of Heath Hall.
Priscilla looked out into the darkness of the autumn night with
frightened eyes. She hated herself for feeling nervous. She had told
Aunt Raby that, of course, she would have no silly tremors, yet here she
was, trembling, and scarcely able to pay the cabman his fare.
She heard a girl's laugh in the distance, and it caused her to start so
violently that she dropped one of her few treasured sixpences, which
went rolling about aimlessly almost under the horse's hoofs.
"Stop a minute, I'll find it for you," said a voice. A tall girl with
big, brown eyes suddenly darted into view, picked up the sixpence as if
by magic, popped it into Priscilla's hand, and then, vanished.
Priscilla knew that this was the girl who had laughed; she heard her
laughing again as she turned to join someone who was standing beside a
laurel hedge. The two linked their arms together, and walked off in the
darkness.
"Such a frightened poor Fresher!" said the girl who had picked up the
sixpence to her companion.
"Maggie," said the other in a warning voice, "I know you, I know what
you mean to do."
"My dear good Nancy, it is more than I know myself. What awful
indiscretion does your prophetic soul see me perpetrating?"
"Oh, Maggie, as if anything could change your nature! You know you'll
take up that miserable Fresher for about a fortnight, and make her
imagine that you are going to be excellent friends for the rest of your
life, and then--p-f! you'll snuff her out as if she had never existed; I
know you, Maggie, and I call it cruel."
"Is not that Miss Banister I hear talking?" said a voice quite close to
the two girls.
They both turned, and immediately with heightened colour rushed up
eagerly to shake hands with the Vice-Principal of their college.
"How do you do, my dears?" she said in a hearty voice. "Are you quite
well, Maggie, and you, Nancy? Had you a pleasant holiday? And did you
two great chums spend it together?"
The girls began answering eagerly; some other girls came up and joined
the group, all anxious to shake hands with Miss Heath, and to get a word
of greeting from her.
At this moment the dressing-gong for dinner sounded, and the little
group moved slowly towards the house.
In the entrance-hall numbers of girls who had recently arrived were
standing about; all had a nod, or a smile, or a kiss for Maggie
Oliphant.
"How do you do, Miss Oliphant? Come and see me to-night in my room,
won't you, dear?" issued from many throats.
Maggie promised in her good-natured, affectionate, wholesale way.
Nancy Banister was also greeted by several friends. She, too, was gay
and bright, but quieter than Maggie. Her face was more reliable in its
expression, but not nearly so beautiful.
"If you accept all these invitations, Maggie," she said, as the two
girls walked down the corridor which led to their rooms, "you know you
will have to sit up until morning. Why will you say `yes' to everyone?
You know it only causes disappointment and jealousy."
Maggie laughed.
"My dear, good creature, don't worry your righteous soul," she answered.
"I'll call on all the girls I can, and the others must grin and bear
it. Now we have barely time to change our dresses for dinner. Stay,
though, Nance, there's a light under Annabel Lee's door; who have they
dared to put into her room? It must be one of those wretched Freshers.
I don't think I can bear it. I shall have to go away into another
corridor."
"Maggie, dear--you are far too sensitive. Could the college afford to
keep a room empty because poor dear Annie Lee occupied it?"
"They could, they ought," burst from Maggie. She stamped her foot with
anger. "That room is a shrine to me. It will always be a shrine. I
shall hate the person who lives in it." Tears filled her bright brown
eyes. Her arched proud lips trembled. She opened her door, and going
into her room, shut it with a bang, almost in Nancy Banister's face.
Nancy stood still for a minute. A quick sigh came from her lips.
"Maggie is the dearest girl in the college," she said to herself; "the
dearest, the sweetest, the prettiest, yet also the most tantalising, the
most provoking, the most inconsequent. It is the greatest wonder she
has kept so long out of some serious scrape. She will never leave here
without doing something outrageous, and yet there isn't a girl in the
place to be named with her. I wish--" here Nancy sighed again, and put
her hand to her brow as if to chase away some perplexity. Then, after a
moment's hesitation, she went up to the door of the room next to
Maggie's and knocked.