A College Girl Part 23

A perfect woman, n.o.bly 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 b.o.o.by 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 pa.s.sing 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 a.s.sured; 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 amus.e.m.e.nt there's the d.i.c.kens 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 amus.e.m.e.nt!"

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 s.e.x, 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 cla.s.sical 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 sh.e.l.l, 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--"