Hannah strolled into Darsie's study, open letter in hand. "Here's
games!" she announced. "An invitation from Mrs Hoare for myself and
friend--that's you--to go to tea on Sunday afternoon. That's because
I'm Dan's sister, of course. He'll be there, too, I expect, and the
handsome Percival, and lots more men. The question is, shall we go?"
Now Mrs Hoare was the wife of the head of that well-known college of
which Dan and Ralph were members, and the invitation was therefore the
fulfilment of one of Darsie's dreams.
"Of course we'll go!" she cried ardently. "Sunday tea at a man's
college is part of the Cambridge programme, and we want to see all that
we can. Personally, I consider that they might have asked us before."
She lay back in her seat, and stared dreamily at the wall, puckering her
brow in thought, the while Hannah chuckled in the background.
"I know what you are thinking about!"
"You don't!" cried Darsie, and blushed, a deep guilty blush.
"I _do_! Costume for Sunday, and the question of possibly squeezing out
three or four shillings to buy an extra bit of frippery to add to your
charms!"
"Boo!" cried Darsie impatiently; then with a sudden change of front:
"And if I _was_, I was perfectly right! Newnham girls are not half
careful enough about their appearance, and it tells against the cause.
A perfect woman, nobly planned, ought to be as clever as she is--er--
dainty, and as dainty as she is clever."
"Thank you for the concession! Very considerate of you, I'm sure. If
you had stuck to `beautiful,' I should have been hopelessly left out.
Even `dainty' is beyond me, I'm afraid; but I'll promise you to be neat
and tidy, and saints can do no more--if they happen to have been born
_plain_ saints, that's to say!"
Hannah stood in front of the mirror, staring back at her flat, square
face with an expression of serenely detached criticism.
"If you are the beauty of this college, I run a close race for the booby
prize! Bit of a handicap that, if you care about popularity. This
Sunday afternoon now! they'll all be buzzing round you like so many
flies, while I do wallflower in a corner. Nonsense to say that looks
don't count! So far as I can see, the difference between your face and
mine will probably make the difference in our lives. You'll marry a
lord of high degree, and I'll school marm and be maiden aunt."
"Oh, Hannah!" Darsie was acutely discomfited by such words from
Hannah's lips. True they were spoken in matter-of-fact tones, and
without the suspicion of a whine, but as the first instance of anything
approaching a lament, the occasion was historic. "Oh, Hannah, dear--
it's only at first! After the first no one cares a rap _what_ you look
like, so long as you're nice."
"Fal-de-ral!" cried Hannah scornfully. "Of course they care! Any one
would--should myself, but you needn't look so hang-dog, my dear. It's
not _your_ fault, and I am quite comfortable, thank you. If any man
ever wants to marry me, I'll know jolly well that it's for myself, and
that he really loves me through and through. There isn't any of the
glamour business about this child to make him imagine that he cares,
when it's only a passing phase. And if it's my lot to live alone, I'll
back myself to be as happy as most wives I come across. It's my own
big, splendid life, and I'm going to _make_ it splendid, or know the
reason why!" Hannah struck a dramatic gesture, danced a few fancy steps
in an elephantine manner, and stumped towards, the door. "So be it,
then! We accept with pleasure, and I'll leave you to trim your hat."
Whether or no any such embellishment did take place history sayeth not,
but it is certain that Darsie Garnett made a very charming picture on
the following Sunday afternoon, and that her dainty style of beauty
showed to peculiar advantage against the oak panelling of the stately
old room in which the head of --- College and his gracious, fragile-
looking wife dispensed tea to their guests.
The first few minutes after their arrival were rather an ordeal to the
two Freshers, who had never before been present at such a gathering, and
felt themselves the cynosure of every eye; but the kindness of host and
hostess soon put them at their ease.
A fair sprinkling of college men were in the room, handing round tea and
cakes to the guests. Dan Vernon greeted Darsie with an illuminating
"Halloa!" and his sister with an even shorter grunt; but it was only
when she was comfortably settled down to tea that Darsie caught sight of
Ralph Percival's fair, close-clipped head at the far side of the table.
He seemed in no hurry to speak to her--a fact duly scored against him in
Miss Darsie's mind, and this indifference served to pique her into a
more vivacious reception of the attentions of his companions.
As Hannah had foretold, her pretty friend held quite a little court as
one man after another strolled up to join the animated group around her
chair. There were two other girls in that group, and a married woman
with a strikingly sweet face, who had been introduced as the sister of
the hostess. Mrs Reeves, as she was called, appeared to be on intimate
terms with the men, and her presence, instead of acting as a restraint,
only added to their enjoyment. Darsie thought that she was a charming
creature, was conscious that she herself was being scrutinised with
special attention, and sincerely hoped that the verdict was favourable.
It was a curious person who did not wish to stand well in Alicia
Reeves's estimation!
Suddenly Ralph Percival edged in at the back of the group, and stationed
himself by Darsie with an air of possession.
"Well, Miss Darsie Garnett, isn't it about time that you had some talk
with me?"
"Quite time!" Darsie's tone was eloquent, and she looked Ralph in the
face with a quiet steadiness, at which he had the grace to blush. He
had been in no hurry to claim acquaintanceship until her social success
was assured; she was fully aware of the fact, but her pique died a rapid
death as she looked closely into the lad's face. Ralph at twenty-two
was as handsome as in his boyhood, handsomer, indeed, but there were
other changes, which the girl's eyes were quick to read; for though we
may keep silence with our tongue, the hand of Time imprints marks upon
our features which are unfailing guides to our spiritual progress or
decline.
For many months past Ralph Vernon had persistently allowed himself to
fall short of his best, slacking in work, overstepping at play,
abandoning "straightness" for a gathering mesh of deceit. Attached to
his name was an unsavoury reputation of card-playing for high stakes, of
drinking too much, although not to the extent of actual drunkenness; and
the character had alienated from him the friendship of serious men, and
evoked a disapproving aloofness in the manner of his instructors. At
the moment when he most needed help those who were best fitted to give
it sedulously avoided his company, and in this first moment of meeting
Darsie was tempted to follow their example.
Horrid to look like that! At his age to own those lines, those reddened
eyes, that dulled white skin! Up went the little head, the slender neck
reared itself proudly, the red lips curled over small white teeth.
Darsie intended to wither Ralph by the sight of such obvious distaste,
but with the easy vanity of his nature he attributed her airs to girlish
pique at his own neglect, and was correspondingly elated thereat.
The little schoolgirl who had been his sister's friend had grown into a
"stunning girl," with whom the men were evidently greatly impressed.
Ralph decided that the hour had come to claim her as an old friend and
take her under his wing. He sat himself down by her side and
persistently monopolised her attention.
"College life evidently suits you, Darsie. You are looking rippingly
well!"
"Am I? Sorry to be unable to return the compliment!"
"Oh!" Ralph moved impatiently. "Don't _you_ begin that tune! It is
dinned into my ears from morning till night. A fellow may swot himself
into a rag, and not a word will be said, but if he oversteps an inch for
his own amusement there's the dickens to pay. I said from the start
that I intended to have a good rag. College is one of the best times in
a man's life, and he's a fool if he doesn't make the most of his
chance."
"It is also--incidentally--supposed to be a time for mental
improvement," returned Darsie in sententious tones, which brought upon
her an instant rebuke.
"Oh, for pity's sake don't come the Newnham swag over me! Can't stand
those girls as a rule. Avoid 'em like poison. Take my advice as an old
friend and avoid that style as you would the plague. You're too jolly
pretty to come the strong-minded female. Far better stick to your old
style. Men like it a heap better."
"It is a matter of perfect indifference to me _what_ men like!" declared
Darsie, not, it is to be feared, with absolute veracity. "I am proud to
be a Newnhamite, and if the girls do have a few mannerisms, they count
for precious little beside their virtues. They are up to work, and they
_do_ work with might and main, though there can be no place in the world
where there is no fun. We are always having some prank or other--
politicals, and cocoa-parties and hockey matches, and dances--"
"What's the fun of dances with no men to dance with? Wait till May
term, and see what a real ball is like. We'll have some river picnics,
too, and breakfasts at the Orchard. There's lots to be done in summer,
but just now there's nothing on but teas. You must come to tea in my
rooms. I've got a slap-up study." He turned towards Mrs Reeves and
addressed her with confident familiarity. "Mrs Reeves will play
chaperon, and I'll promise you the best cakes that Cambridge can
produce."
"Oh, yes, I'll play chaperon." To Darsie's surprise the sweet-faced
woman smiled back into Ralph's face with friendly eyes, not appearing
even to notice the over-confidence of his manner. "Mr Percival gives
charming parties, and I can answer for it that his boast as to the cakes
is justified. I can never fathom where he gets them."
She turned to Darsie with a little gesture of confidence, and slightly
lowered her voice. "I am known as `the Professional Chaperon.' I hope
you will engage my services if you are in need of such a personage, but
perhaps we ought to know one another a little better first. I should
like so much to know you! Will you come to see me one afternoon next
week when you are free, and feel inclined for a chat? I won't ask any
one else, so that we can have a real cosy time."
Surprised and gratified, and more than a little flattered, Darsie
mentioned her free hours, and received in return Mrs Reeves's card
bearing an address in Grange Road, then once more Ralph engrossed her
attention.
"I say! You might ask Ida up for a night or two, and bring her along.
They'll let you have a friend now and then, and she'd like it all right.
Awfully decent in writing to me, Ida is, and fights my battles at home.
Sensible girl! Understand it's no good to jaw. I'd like to have Ida
up for a bit."
"So would I. I'll ask her with pleasure." One of Ralph's best points
had been his affection for his sisters, and the reminder thereof
softened Darsie's heart. She smiled at him with recovered friendliness.
"I'll ask Ida, and you must ask Dan and Hannah Vernon, and make a nice
family party. Do you see much of Dan? I don't expect _he_ makes a rag
of himself over amusement!"
Ralph shrugged carelessly. "I've no use for Vernon! Good head for
routine work, but as a pal, dull as you make 'em! I'll ask him once as
you make a point of it, but I don't fancy you'll want him twice. As for
the sister--but perhaps I'd better not make any remarks?"
"Much better!" Darsie said frostily. "Your manners have not improved,
Ralph. I think, if you please, that I would rather not talk to you any
more for the present. Would you tell Dan Vernon that I want him to take
your place?"
It was the first, the very first time in her life that Darsie had
essayed the part of queening it over a member of the opposite sex, and
the success of the venture was startling even to herself. Ralph
flushed, flinched, rose without a word, and stalked across the room to
summon Dan as required; and Dan came meekly forward, seated himself in
the discarded chair, and faced her with an air of solemn expectation.
His rugged face looked plain and roughly hewn in contrast with Ralph's
classical features, but the dark eyes were eloquent as of yore, and the
sight of the tilted chin brought back a score of old-time memories.
Darsie looked at him with satisfaction, but with a disconcerting
blankness of mind as to what to say first. From the other side of the
room Ralph was looking on with cynical eyes; it was imperative that the
silence should be broken at once.
"Dan, _please_ say something! I wanted Ralph to go, so I asked for you.
Do please find something to say."
Dan smiled broadly. Each time that she saw him smile Darsie wondered
afresh how she could ever have thought him plain. His dark eyes glowed
upon her with the look she liked best to see.
"What am I to say? It's good to see you here, Darsie. You are looking
very--well! Everything going all right? Sure there's nothing I can
do?"
"No." Darsie beamed happily. At that moment there seemed nothing left
to wish. Dan's friendliness gave the finishing touch to her content,
and the world was _couleur de rose_. "I am loving it all more than I
expected. The work's glorious, and the play's glorious, and I'm just
absorbed in both. It's splendid, coming here to-day to see this lovely
old house and meet you again. I thought you had forgotten all about
me."
But Dan had drawn back into his shell, and refused to be cajoled. He
glowered at the opposite wall for some minutes, then asked abruptly--
"Why did you send off Percival?"
"Oh--!" Darsie hesitated, and then answered with discretion: "I had
talked to him as much as I cared about for the moment, and I shall see
him soon again. He is going to get up a tea-party for me, with that
sweet Mrs Reeves as chaperon. I told him to ask you and Hannah."
"You should not have done that!" Dan spoke with sharp displeasure. "I
don't care to accept Percival's hospitality for myself, and certainly
not for my sister. I shall tell Hannah to refuse."
Darsie glanced across to where Hannah sat, a typical plain Hannah at
that moment, with feet planted well apart, and on her face the
expression of dour determination which she adopted in moments of
boredom; from her to Ralph Percival, standing in graceful pose, his
fine, almost feminine, profile outlined clearly against the panelled
wall, and, glancing, laughed softly to herself. It seemed so ridiculous
to think of this girl needing protection from this man.
"I fancy Hannah is quite capable of looking after herself."
"I'm sure of it. She's a new-comer, however, and she doesn't get into
Percival's set if I can help it."
"Dan! It can't be so bad if Mrs Reeves is willing to go. She accepted
in a minute. I heard her myself."
"She goes everywhere, to the wildest fellows' rooms. She has her own
ideas, no doubt, but I don't profess to understand them." He hesitated,
puckering his brows, and looking at her with dark, questioning eyes. "I
have no authority over you, Darsie, but I wish--"
"Ralph saved my life," interrupted Darsie simply.
Dan looked at her sharply, stared with scrutinising attention at her
face, but spoke no further word of protest. He evidently realised, as
Darsie did herself, that it would be a mean act to reject the friendship
of a man who had wrought so great a service.
Half an hour later the two girls slowly wended their way past the tower
gateway of Trinity, past Caius, with its twinkling lights, stately
King's, and modest Catherine's, to the homelike shelter of their own
dear Newnham.
"Well!" cried Hannah, breaking a long silence, "you had a big success
and I had--_not_! But you're not a bit happier than I, that I can see.
Men are poor, blind bats. I prefer my own sex; they are much more
discriminating, and when they like you--they _like_ you, and there's no
more shilly-shally. Those men never know their own minds!"