It was really rather fun dressing for the visit to the Percivals on
Thursday; trying to make oneself look one's _very_ best, and imagining
their surprise at the transformation! Aunt Maria, too, seemed quite to
enter into the spirit of the thing, inquired anxiously _which_ dress,
and gave special instructions that it should be ironed afresh, so that
it might appear at its freshest and best.
"My woman" had evidently been instructed to take the young guest's
wardrobe under her care, since new ribbons and frilling now appeared
with engaging frequency, giving quite an air to half-worn garments.
Darsie in a blue muslin dress, with a white straw hat wreathed with
daisies, and her golden locks floating past her waist, made a charming
picture of youth and happiness as she sat in the old barouche, and when
the hall was reached Aunt Maria cast a keen glance around the grounds,
transparently eager to discover the young people and share in the fun of
the meeting.
Ralph was nowhere to be seen, that was _not_ to be wondered at under the
circumstances, but the two girls were on duty on the tennis-lawn in
front of the house, ready to come forward and welcome their guest
immediately upon her arrival.
The blank gapes of bewilderment with which they witnessed the alighting
of the radiant blue and gold apparition afforded keen delight both to
aunt and niece. They were literally incapable of speech, and even after
Aunt Maria had driven away, coughing in the most suspicious manner
behind a raised hand, even then conversation was of the most jerky and
spasmodic kind. It was amusing enough for a time, but for a whole
afternoon it would certainly pall, and Darsie _did_ want to enjoy
herself when she had a chance. She decided that it was time to put
matters on a right footing, and looked smilingly to right and left, at
her embarrassed, tongue-tied companions.
"I think," said Darsie politely, "that I owe you an explanation!"
She explained, and Noreen and Ida pealed with laughter, and danced up
and down on the gravel path, and slid their hands through her arm,
vowing undying friendship on the spot.
"How per-fectly killing! I do _love_ a girl who is up to pranks.
_What_ a prank! How you _must_ have felt when you saw us sitting there!
And Lady Hayes--what _did_ she say? Was she per-fectly furious?"
"Aunt Maria behaved like an angel, a dignified angel! I never liked her
so much. How did _you_ feel? Tell me just exactly your sentiments when
you saw me walking into that room?"
"I certainly did feel upset, because we _had_ to ask you! Mother said
we must, and we asked each other what on _earth_ should we do with you
all day long. Ida did say that your eyes were pretty. She was the only
one who stuck up for you at all! I thought you looked too appalling for
words."
"What did your brother say?" asked Darsie with natural feminine
curiosity, whereupon Noreen answered with unabashed candour--
"He said you were `a rummy little frump,' and that he would take very
good care to have an engagement for to-day as many miles as possible
away from home!"
"Did he, indeed!" The colour rose in Darsie's cheeks. "Well, I'm very
glad he did. I like girls best, and I thought _he_ looked conceited and
proud. My best friend has a big brother, too, but he's not a bit like
yours. Rather shaggy, but _so_ clever and kind! He promised to write
to me while I was here, just because he knew I should be dull. It's
really an honour, you know, for he is terrifically clever. Every one
says he will be Prime Minister one day. He's going to Cambridge. Your
brother is, too, isn't he? I shouldn't think they would be at _all_ in
the same set!"
The Percival girls looked at each other and smiled.
"Poor old Ralph! Isn't she blighting? You don't know anything about
him, you know. It's only because he called you a frump, but never mind,
he has to be back to tea to look after some work for father, and then
he'll see! If you are going to be friends with us, you mustn't begin by
disliking our brother. He may be conceited, but he is certainly not
`shaggy,' and he is much nicer to his sisters than most big boys. He
thinks we are really nicer than other girls."
Darsie regarded them critically.
"Well, I think you are!" she conceded graciously. "Oh, how thankful I
am that there is some one _young_ in the neighbourhood. I was beginning
to feel so painfully middle-aged. Let's sit down and talk. Tell me
about yourselves. Do you go to school? Which school? Do you go in for
exams? What subjects do you like best?"
Noreen laughed, and shook her head.
"We have a governess. We are going for a year to a finishing school in
Paris, but mother doesn't approve of exams, for girls. She wants us to
be able to play, and sing, and draw, and speak German and French, and
she says that's enough. We don't bother about Latin or mathematics or
any of those dull old things."
"They are not dull. They're glorious. I revel in them. But you're
rich, of course, and won't have to work. I shall have to earn money
myself, so I want to pass all the exams. I can."
The Percivals stared in solemn surprise. The idea was so strange it
took some time to digest. All their friends were well off like
themselves; really, when they came to think of it, they had never met a
prospective _working_ girl before! They regarded Darsie with a
curiosity tinged with compassion.
"Do you mean it--really? Tell us about yourself? Where do you live?"
"In Birchester, Craven Street, Sandon terrace--the corner house in
Sandon Terrace."
"Craven Street. Really!" The girls were plainly shocked, but Ida
rallied bravely, and said in her most courteous air: "It must be so
_interesting_ to live in a street! So much to see. And have you _very_
interesting people living across the road?"
"No. Rather dull. Husbands and wives, and one old bachelor with a
leg--lame leg, I mean. No one at all thrilling, but our friends--our
_best_ friends--live in a terrace at right angles with ours. We have
great times with them. I'll tell you about our latest craze."
Noreen and Ida sat breathlessly listening to the history of the
telegraph, till it was time to go into the house for lunch, when Darsie
was introduced to Mrs Percival, a very smartly dressed lady, who looked
astonishingly young to be the mother of a grown-up family. After lunch
the three girls attempted tennis, but gave it up in deference to the
visitor's lack of skill, visited stables and kennels and conservatory,
and were again brought face to face with the different points of view
existing between the town and the country dweller.
"Do all people who live in the country go and stare at their horses and
dogs every day of their lives?" demanded Darsie with an air of patient
resignation, as Noreen and Ida patted, and whistled, and rubbed the
noses of their four-footed friends, fed them with dainty morsels, and
pointed out good points in technical terms which were as Greek in the
listener's ears. "Aunt Maria goes every single day; it's a part of the
regular programme, like knitting in the afternoon and Patience at night.
I get--_so_ bored!"
The shocked looks which the Percival sisters turned upon her seemed
ludicrously out of proportion with the circumstances.
"Don't you--don't you _love_ animals?"
"Certainly--in their place. But I _cannot_ see the interest in staring
in through a stable door at the same horses standing munching in the
same stalls day after day. It's no use pretending that I can," declared
Darsie obstinately. "And the dogs make such a noise, and drag at your
clothes. I'm always thankful to get away. Let's go back to the garden
and look at the flowers. I could stare at flowers for ages. It seems
too glorious to be true to be able to pick as many roses as you like.
At home mother buys a sixpenny bunch on Saturday, and cuts the stalks
every day, and puts them into fresh water to make them last as long as
possible, and we have nasturtiums for the rest of the week. I love the
fruit and vegetable garden, too. It's so amusing to see how things
grow! Especially,"--she laughed mischievously, showing a whole nest of
baby dimples in one pink cheek, "I warn you frankly that this is a
hint!--especially things you can _eat_!"
Noreen and Ida chuckled sympathetically.
"Come along! There is still a bed of late strawberries. We'll take
camp-stools from the summer-house, and you shall sit and feast until you
are tired, and we'll sit and watch you, and talk. We seem to have had
strawberries at every meal for weeks past, and are quite tired of the
sight, so you can have undisturbed possession."
"And I," said Darsie with a sigh, "have never in my life had enough! It
will be quite an epoch to go on eating until I _want_ to stop. That's
the worst of a large family, the dainties divide into such tiny shares!"
Ten minutes later the three girls had taken up their position in the
kitchen garden in a spot which to the town-bred girl seemed ideal for
comfort and beauty. The strawberry-bed ran along the base of an old
brick wall on which the branches of peach-trees stretched out in the
formal upward curves of great candelabra. An old apple-tree curved
obligingly over the gravel path to form a protection from the sun, and
it was the prettiest thing in the world to glance up through the
branches with their clusters of tiny green apples, and see the patches
of blue sky ahead. Darsie sat stretching out her hand to pluck one big
strawberry after another, an expression of beatific contentment on her
face.
"Yes--it's scrumptious to live in the country--in summer! If it were
always like this I'd want to stay for ever, but it must be dreadfully
dull in winter, when everything is dead and still. I shouldn't like it
a bit."
"No! No!" the Percival girls protested in chorus. "It's beautiful
always, and livelier than ever, for there's the hunting. Hunting is
just _the_ most delightful sport! We hunt once a week always, and often
twice--the most exciting runs. We are sorry, absolutely sorry when
spring comes to stop us."
"Oh, do you hunt!" Darsie was quite quelled by the thought of such
splendour. In town it was rare even to see a girl on horseback; a hunt
was a thing which you read about, but never expected to behold with your
own eyes. The knowledge that her new friends actually participated in
this lordly sport raised them to a pinnacle of importance. She munched
strawberries in thoughtful silence for several moments before recovering
enough spirit to enter another plea in favour of town.
"Well, anyway--if you _don't_ hunt, it must be dull. _And_ lonely!
Aren't you scared to death walking along dark lanes without a single
lamppost? I should live in terror of tramps and burglars, and never
dare to stir out of the house after three o'clock."
"No you wouldn't, if you were accustomed to it. Our maids come home
quite happily at ten o'clock at night, but if they go to a city they are
nervous in the brightly lit streets. That's curious, but it's true. We
used to leave doors and windows open all day long, and hardly trouble to
lock up at night, until a few months ago when we had a scare which made
us more careful. Till then we trusted every one, and every one trusted
us."
"A scare!" Darsie pricked her ears, scenting an excitement. "What
scare? Do tell me! I love gruesome stories. What was it? Thieves?"
Noreen nodded solemnly.
"Yes! It's gruesome enough. Simply horrid for us, for so many other
people lost their--but I'll tell you from the beginning. It was the
night of the Hunt Ball at Rakeham, and the house was crammed with
visitors. We were allowed to sit up to see them all start. They looked
so lovely--the men in their pink coats, and the ladies in their very
best dresses and jewels. Well, it was about half-past seven; the ladies
had gone upstairs to dress about half an hour before, when suddenly
there was a great noise and clamour, and some one shouted `Fire!' and
pealed an alarm on the gong. No one knew where it was, but you never
heard such a hubbub and excitement. Doors opened all down the
corridors, and the ladies rushed out in dressing-gowns and dressing-
jackets, with hair half done, or streaming down their backs, shrieking
and questioning, and clinging to one another, and rushing downstairs.
The men were more sensible; they took it quite calmly, and just set to
work to put the fire out. It was in a little room on the second floor,
and the strange thing was that it hadn't been used for months, and no
one could account for there being a fire there at all. After a little
time one of the men came out into the corridor, and said: `There's
something wrong about this--this is not the result of accident! I don't
like the look of it at all.' Then he turned to the ladies, who were all
huddled together, gasping and questioning, with their maids and the
other servants in the background, and said: `Ladies! I advise you to go
back to your rooms as quickly as possible. There is not the slightest
danger, but it might be just as well to look after your jewellery!'
"You should have heard them shriek! They turned and rushed like
rabbits, and the maids rushed after them, shrieking too, but that was
nothing to the noise two minutes after, when they got back to their
rooms and found their jewels gone! They were laid out ready to be put
on, on the dressing-tables, and the alarm had been cleverly timed to
give the ladies enough time to get half dressed, but not enough to have
put on their jewellery. Only one out of all the party had put on her
necklace. She _was_ pleased!
"Well, they shrieked, and shrieked, and some of the men left the fire
and came upstairs to the rescue. Captain Beverley was the smartest, and
he just tore along the corridor to a dressing-room over the billiard-
room, and there was a man letting himself drop out of the window, and
scrambling over the billiard-room roof to the ground! Captain Beverley
gave the alarm, and the servants rushed out to give chase. It was very
dark, and they could not tell how many men there were, for they kept
dodging in and out among the trees. Some people said there were only
two, and some said they saw four, but only one was caught that night--an
idle, loafing young fellow who had been staying at the village inn for a
few weeks, pretending to be a city clerk convalescing after an illness.
The worst of it was that he had only a few of the smaller things in his
pockets, none of the really big, valuable pieces."
"Goodness!" Darsie's eyes sparkled with animation. "That _was_ an
excitement. I wish I'd been here. Go on! What happened after that?"
"Oh, my dear, the most awful evening! The visitors had all brought
their very _best_ things, as the Hunt Ball is a great occasion, and they
almost all cried, and one poor lady went into hysterics. Her father had
been an ambassador and had all sorts of wonderful orders and things
which she had had made into brooches and pendants, and they could never
be replaced, no matter how much money she spent. Dinner was the most
weepy meal you can imagine, and only one or two of the sensible ones
went on to the ball. The others stayed at home and moped, and mother
had to stay, too. Poor dear! she had to keep calm, and comfort every
one else, when she'd lost all her own pet things. There was one string
of pearls which has been in our family for generations, and each new
owner adds a few more pearls, so that it gets longer and longer, and
more and more valuable. It would have belonged to Ralph's wife some
day. He was so funny about it, so disappointed! He kept saying: `Poor
little girl! it _is_ rough luck!' We said: `Why pity her, when you
haven't the least idea who she is?' He said: `Why not, when I know very
well that I _shall_ know some day!'"
Darsie smiled with politely concealed impatience. She was not in the
least interested in Ralph's problematical wife, but she was devoured
with anxiety to hear further particulars of the exciting burglary.
"Well, well! Go on! You said they only caught one man that night.
That means, I suppose--"
"Yes!" Noreen sighed tragically. "That was the saddest part of it.
The next morning they found another man lying just outside the walled
garden. He had scrambled up, holding on to the fruit-trees, and had
then jumped down and broken his leg, and he was not a stranger, but one
of our very own men--an under-gardener whom we had all liked so much.
Father believed that he had been bribed and led away by the man from
London, and offered to let him off if he would tell all he knew, how
many thieves there had been, and give the names and descriptions of the
ones who had escaped, but he wouldn't. Nothing would make him speak.
We all tried in turns, and then the Vicar came and was shut up with him
for an age, but it was no use. They say `there's honour among thieves,'
and it's true. He wouldn't give the others away, so the two were sent
to prison together, and they are there still. Father says they won't
mind a few months' imprisonment, for when they come out they will get
their share of the money and be quite rich. They'll probably sail off
for America or Australia and buy land, and live in luxury ever after.
It _is_ a shame! Father and mother feel it awfully. Such a dreadful
thing to happen when you ask your friends to stay!"
"Yes! it's a comfort to have nothing to lose. Mother has one diamond
ring, which she always wears above the wedding one, and there's nothing
else worth stealing in the house, except watches and silver spoons, so
that Aunt Maria need fear no qualms on account of her present visitor.
No one will set her house on fire on account of my jewels--a few glass
beads and a gold safety-pin, all told! You see them before you now!"
Darsie tossed her head and pointed towards her treasures with an air of
such radiant satisfaction that Noreen and Ida dropped the effort to be
polite, and pealed with delighted laughter.
"You _are_ a funny girl! You do amuse us. It's so nice to have a new
friend. The girls near here are so deadly dull. You seem so full of
spirit."
"Too full. It runs away with me. I act first and think afterwards.
_Not_ a good principle for a working life," pronounced Miss Darsie
sententiously as she searched among the green leaves for a strawberry
sufficiently large and red to suit her fastidious taste. The Percivals
watched her with fascinated gaze. An hour before they would have
professed the most profound pity for a girl who lived in a street, owned
neither horse nor dog, and looked forward to earning her own living, but
it was with something more closely resembling envy that they now
regarded Darsie Garnett, weighted as she was with all these drawbacks.
There was about her an air of breeziness, of adventure, which shook them
out of their self-complacence. It no longer seemed the all-important
thing in life to belong to a county family, attend the hunt, and look
forward to a presentation at Court; they felt suddenly countrified and
dull, restricted in aim and interest.
It was while Darsie was still conversing in airy, discursive fashion,
and her companions listening with fascinated attention, that footsteps
were heard approaching, and Ralph's tall figure appeared at the end of
the path. He was evidently taking a short cut through the grounds, and
as Darsie was out of his line of vision, being planted well back among
the strawberry plants, he saw only his two sisters, and advanced to meet
them with cheerful unconcern.
"Hulloa! Here's luck! Hasn't she come?"
"Oh, yes! But it is luck all the same. Look for yourself!" cried
Noreen gleefully, pointing with outstretched hand to where Darsie sat, a
pale blue figure among a nest of greenery, her little, flushed, laughing
face tilted upward on the long white throat, her scattered locks ashine
in the sun. With the air of a queen she extended finger-tips crimson
with the strawberry juice towards the newcomer, and with the air of a
courtier Ralph Percival stooped to take them in his own.
For a moment they stared full into each other's eyes, while the
bewilderment on the young man's face slowly gave place to recognition.
"Glad to see you again, Princess Goldenlocks! Let me congratulate you
on the breaking of the spell. Who was the kind fairy who set you free
to appear among us in your rightful guise?"
He spoke like a book; he looked tall and handsome enough to be a prince
himself. Darsie forgave him on the instant for his former lack of
respect, and bent upon him her most dimpling smile.
"I freed myself. I wove my own spell, and when I was tired of it I
broke loose."
Ralph looked down at her with a slow, quizzical smile.
"You had better be careful! Spells are awkward things to move about.
They might alight, you know, on some other shoulders, and not be so
easily shaken off!"
His eyes, his voice, added point to the words. It was the first, the
very first compliment which Darsie had ever received from masculine
lips, and compared with the blunt criticisms of Dan Vernon, she found it
wonderfully stimulating.
"Come along, girls!" cried Ralph with a sudden return to a natural,
boyish manner. "There's a whole hour yet before tea, and we can't sit
here doing nothing. Let's go down to the river and punt. Do you punt,
Miss Garnett? I'll teach you! You look the sort of girl to be good at
sport. You'll pick it up in no time."
The three girls rose obediently and followed Ralph's lead riverwards,
while Noreen and Ida, gesticulating and grimacing in the background,
gave the visitor to understand that a great honour had been bestowed
upon her, and that she might consider herself fortunate in being the
recipient of an unusual mark of attention.