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THE GIRLS OF ST. WODE'S
by
MRS. L. T. MEADE
Author of
"Deb and the Duchess," "A Girl in Ten Thousand,"
"Good Luck," etc.
New York
Grosset & Dunlap
Publishers
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I—PREPARING FOR THE YOUNG DÉBUTANTES.
CHAPTER II—IN A THIRD-CLASS CARRIAGE.
CHAPTER III—THE TORN DRESS.
CHAPTER IV—IN THE GIRLS’ BEDROOMS.
CHAPTER V—THE MODERN VIEW OF LIFE.
CHAPTER VI—BELLE THE SAGE.
CHAPTER VII—THE FATE OF THE GIRLS.
CHAPTER VIII—THE GILROYS.
CHAPTER IX—ONE TAKEN, THE OTHER LEFT.
CHAPTER X—LLEWELLYN’S GIFT.
CHAPTER XI—ST. WODE’S COLLEGE.
CHAPTER XII—INKY ANNIE.
CHAPTER XIII—A COCOA PARTY.
CHAPTER XIV—A COCOA PARTY—CONTINUED.
CHAPTER XV—BELLE’S ROOM AT ST. WODE’S.
CHAPTER XVI—FRESHERS.
CHAPTER XVII—THE “MERRY ALICE.”
CHAPTER XVIII—THE GUILD OF ST. ELIZABETH.
CHAPTER XIX—THE MAN BY THE RUIN.
CHAPTER XX—NOT A BIT LIKE IT.
CHAPTER XXI—WHAT IS UP?
CHAPTER XXII—THE PROMISE.
CHAPTER XXIII—THE PICNIC.
CHAPTER XXIV—THE TWINS.
CHAPTER XXV—THE PRAYER OF FAITH.
CHAPTER XXVI—ANNIE’S REQUEST.
CHAPTER XXVII—TELL ME THE TRUTH, LESLIE.
CHAPTER XXVIII—RUPERT.
CHAPTER XXIX—30 NEWBOLT SQUARE.
CHAPTER XXX—ANNIE IN THE TOILS.
CHAPTER XXXI—HANDWRITING.
CHAPTER XXXII—WHO HAS TAKEN THE KEY?
CHAPTER XXXIII—CONFESSION.
CHAPTER I
PREPARING FOR THE YOUNG DÉBUTANTES.
Eileen, Marjorie, and Letitia Chetwynd were expected home from school.
It was a bright day early in April, and Mrs. Chetwynd was seated in her
luxurious London drawing-room conversing with her special friend, Mrs.
Acheson.
Two years ago Mrs. Chetwynd, on the death of her husband, a
distinguished Indian officer, had returned to England. She was a
fashionable, up-to-date-looking lady now. Her widow’s dress was
carefully chosen—not too depressing, but all that was correct and
proper.
Mrs. Acheson, also the widow of an Indian officer, was not fashionable
in the ordinary acceptance of the word. She was plainly, even shabbily,
dressed. She wore long weepers to her widow’s cap, and her hair was
brushed smoothly away from her broad forehead. Her face was large and
somewhat sunburnt, her hands well shaped, but with a look about them
which showed that they were not unacquainted with manual labor.
“Yes,” said Mrs. Chetwynd, uttering a sigh as she spoke, “this is a
great day for me. The girls are educated, and are coming home.”
“For good?” said Mrs. Acheson.
“Well, yes, my dear; I suppose so. You see, they are all eighteen. It is
absurd to keep girls at school after eighteen. They were eighteen the
end of last year. In these days, when people grow old so terribly fast,
girls ought to have their so-called education finished at eighteen.”
“My dear Belle would not agree with you,” said Mrs. Acheson.
Mrs. Chetwynd threw up her hands and slightly raised her arched brows.
“Spare me, dear Emily,” she cried. “I do not want to hear any of your
dear, extraordinary, clever Belle’s theories at present. I sincerely
trust—yes, my dear, I must be frank—I sincerely trust the wave of her
influence will never come into my house.”
Mrs. Acheson sighed and sank back in her chair.
“On the whole,” she said, “I have much to be thankful for. I have enough
to live on, and the memory of my dear husband’s brilliant career will
always be a comfort to me. Belle is also in excellent health. She is, of
course, one of the great admirations of my life; but I will admit it,
dear, in a whisper, that she is also one of my trials. But, dear Helen,
I had forgotten that you had three daughters; and how can they be all
eighteen at the same time?”
“I have not three daughters, my dear; I have only two. Letitia is not my
daughter. She is my niece; she is my dear husband’s younger brother’s
child. She happens to have been born within a month of Eileen and
Marjorie, who are twins, consequently the three are practically the same
age. They will be home in about an hour and a half. They are all devoted
to each other; but I confess it will be something of a handful taking
three into society at the same time.”
“Oh, you surely don’t mean to introduce the whole three the same
season?” said Mrs. Acheson. “How can you contemplate anything so
appalling?”
“But I do contemplate it,” said Mrs. Chetwynd, “and I believe I shall
manage very well. I have been, of course, in close correspondence with
their invaluable teacher, Mrs. Marchland, and have had frequent
photographs of the children. Eileen and Marjorie are alike in appearance
and strikingly handsome; they will be foils to Letitia, who is as fair
as they are dark. Letitia is pretty and fascinating, of the petit order.
I should think the three would make something of a sensation. You see,
my dear, I have large means, for my husband came in for the property of
his elder brother, who died six months before him. I can do well by the
children, and I mean to do so.”
“You contemplate matrimony as the aim and object of your ambition?” said
Mrs. Acheson.
“Nothing of the kind,” replied Mrs. Chetwynd, slightly reddening. “If it
comes, well and good. If a really estimable, worthy man takes a fancy to
any of my girls, and his affection is returned, I shall look upon
marriage as a suitable life for my children; but I do not take them into
society for the sole purpose of getting husbands.”
Mrs. Acheson slowly shook her head.
“You will find it difficult to make people believe that,” she said.
“In all probability the three girls will marry,” continued Mrs. Chetwynd
in her calm, even voice, which seldom rose to excitement or dropped to
melancholy. “Marriage is what Providence intends for all happy women,
early marriage and happy homes of their own. But I shall not hurry the
matter nor put myself out about it. I mean the girls to have a good
time, and will leave other matters to Providence.”
“Taking steps meanwhile to accomplish your real object,” murmured Mrs.
Acheson under her breath.
“My dear Emily, do tell me about your Belle,” continued Mrs. Chetwynd.
“So you have really sent her to St. Wode’s College?”
“Yes; and she is very happy there, and hopes to do well in her tripos.”
“I must frankly say that I hate girls’ colleges,” said Mrs. Chetwynd.
“After all, these new-fangled ideas that women have taken hold of are
most disastrous. What awful creatures one meets now and then! All
womanliness extracted out of them—mere walking intellects with no hearts
of any sort.”
“You really do run to the fair with the thing,” replied Mrs. Acheson. “I
am sure my dear Belle——”
But Mrs. Chetwynd did not want to hear about dear Belle. Just at that
moment there came a welcome interruption in the shape of tea. It was
placed on a small table in front of the hostess, who poured it out,
helped her friend to rich cream, and offered her hot buttered cake. Mrs.
Acheson could only manage plain teas at home, and she enjoyed her
friend’s meals, she was fond of saying, all the more by contrast.
“I shall long to hear of your dear girls, and also to see them,” she
said, as she sipped her tea and stirred it slowly with a small Russian
spoon.
“Well, come over and take a peep at them on Saturday,” said Mrs.
Chetwynd. “Belle is away, is she not?”
“She comes home to-morrow night; she has had a very pleasant tour in
Switzerland. May I bring her with me?”
Mrs. Chetwynd longed to say “No.” She disliked Belle Acheson, she
disliked her manners and her mode of life, and she did not wish her to
exercise the smallest influence over Letitia, Eileen, and Marjorie.
After a moment’s reflection, however, she came to the conclusion that
these young ladies could not be injured by any one so plain and
unimportant. She therefore bent her head in token of willingness to
receive Belle Acheson for a few hours into her house.
“Let it be Saturday, then,” she said. “Come as early as you can in the
afternoon. If all goes well, I mean to have my three girls presented
this season. I took this house for the purpose: it is in a fashionable
locality and close to everything. Yes, after all, three young débutantes
will in one sense be an advantage. The thing will be out of the common;
nothing is admired so much as the uncommon. I expect I shall enjoy
myself; and the girls, whatever happens, shall have a good time. If you
are wise, my dear Emily, you will try to introduce Belle. If you dress
her well you might do wonders with her, and——”
“Belle in society!” said Mrs. Acheson with a laugh. “Ah, I see you do
not know her yet. Expect me on Saturday, and I will bring Belle if I
can.”
Mrs. Chetwynd heaved a sigh as her friend left the room.