A College Girl Part 32

_Where were they_?

As Darsie stood, ghastly and shuddering, by the water brink, she was subconsciously aware of a strong arm in hers. Subconsciously also she was aware that the arm belonged to Dan Vernon, but she had no time for look or word; her whole being was strung to one agonising thought. Mr Percival supported his half-fainting wife; the two sisters clung together; the relations of Mary Everard paced wildly to and fro. On sh.o.r.e all was tumult and confusion, on the river sunbeams sparkled, the stream was quiet and undisturbed.

"Percival was like a fish: Percival could have kept afloat for hours."

A voice separated itself from the confused babel, and struck on Darsie's ear, but even as her heart leaped upward another voice spoke. "It is not a case of swimming. If he were not quick enough in getting away--if he were caught beneath--penned!"

The strong arm gripped her more firmly still, steadied her trembling. A fierce voice issued an order for "Silence! Silence!"

Margaret France came up with beautiful soft eyes and a beautiful soft voice. She spoke wise, tender words. You were to come away--it was better so. It would add to your friends' distress if you were ill. You were wet, cold. You were to be sensible and come home.

Darsie looked at her thoughtfully for a long moment. She was thinking that she loved Margaret France, that she had taken a fancy to her the first evening at Newnham. How droll and witty she had been as an auctioneer! Of the purport of her present words she had no comprehension. She sighed and turned her face to the river.

"Leave her to me," said Dan's voice quietly. "I will take care of her."

They found them at sundown; the two young, fair bodies--the tall, pale lad, the slim, dark maid--two cold effigies of youth, and health, and joy. On Ralph's forehead was a deep red mark, the mark of the blow which had given him a prey to the waters; but Mary's brown locks floated round a sweet, untroubled face.

They bore them to the mortuary, and those who loved them sat and wept alone. Darsie spent the two following days with the stricken family, who found their one comfort in listening again and again to the story of Ralph's brave end. Weak and unstable in life, in death he had shown a gallant front, and more than one of the unfortunate crew came forward to testify to his courageous and selfless efforts on their behalf.

Mr Percival went about with a set face and shoulders bowed like those of an old man. The girls wept helplessly from morn till night; Mrs Percival lost in one night all lingering trace of youth; she kept up bravely before her husband and daughters, but alone with Darsie her anguish found vent.

"My son, my son! He was so good to me--so loving and kind. His faults were the faults of youth, and, oh, Darsie, my, faults also! We blamed him for faults which we had not tried to check. If he had lived and had been obliged to face life for himself he would have risen to it, as he rose to that last great chance. It takes a brave man to face death calmly. He was not weak or selfish then--my Ralph! No one dared call him weak. Thank G.o.d! We were with him to the end, we were happy together, and you were with him too. That is what he would have wished.

He loved you, Darsie. If he had lived, he would have wished you for his wife."

"Yes!" sighed Darsie, and laid her head gently on the other's knee. In the silence which followed she was acutely aware of the unspoken question which filled the air, acutely distressed that she could not give the stricken mother the a.s.surance for which she craved.

In Ralph's lifetime his friendship had brought Darsie as much pain as joy, and, though death had wiped away all but tender recollections, even in this hour of grief and shock she did not delude herself that she sorrowed for him with the deepest sorrow of all. The anxious, pitiful affection which she had felt for the man who leaned so heavily upon her was more that of a sister than a wife.

Darsie stretched out her hand, found the chilly one of the poor mother, and leaning her soft cheek over it, pressed it tenderly with her lips.

"You must let me be your third daughter! We can talk about him together. I can tell you about this last year--every little tiny thing that he said and did. You'll never be anxious about him any more, dear, never afraid! You will always be proud of your hero boy."

Mrs Percival sighed. She was in too sensitive a mood not to realise the meaning of the girl's lack of response, but the first pang of disappointment was followed by a thought full of comfort to the sore mother-heart.

"I loved him best. He was mine to the end! No one loved him like his mother!"

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

BRIGHTER DAYS.

Six months pa.s.sed by--months of grief and pain, and bitter, unavailing regret; of work and play, of long summer days, and wintry fog and cold; of reviving happiness also, since, thank G.o.d! joy returns like the spring, bringing back hope and joy to a darkened world. There was a place in Darsie's heart which would ever be consecrated to the memory of Ralph; but _it_ was not a foremost place--that most crushing of sorrows had been spared her; and when one not yet twenty-one is living the healthiest and most congenial of lives, and is above all elevated to the proud position of third-year girl, it would be as unnatural as wrong to dwell continually upon a past grief.

At first Darsie felt shocked and ashamed when the old gay mood swept her off her balance, and she found herself dancing, singing, and making merry as of yore, but her two mentors, Mrs Reeves and Hannah Vernon, united to combat this impression.

"To bear a sorrow _cheerfully_ is the only resignation worthy of the name!" This was the older woman's verdict; the younger preached the same precept in student vernacular--

"Why grizzle when you want to smile? Pray, what good can you do yourself, or any one else, by going about with a face like a fiddle?

Remember Margaret France, and don't block up the window to shut out the stars! Let them twinkle for all they are worth, the blessed little things. They are _tired_ of hiding behind the clouds. You have a duty to the living as well as to the dead; remember that!"

Yes, it was true. Looking back over the last eight months Darsie realised what a debt of grat.i.tude she owed to relations and friends alike for their tenderness and forbearance. It had been hard on the home party to have the summer holidays clouded by the presence of a mourner who shuddered at the sight of water, collapsed into tears at unexpected moments, and lived in a condition of super-sensitiveness, ready as it seemed to be hurt by the most innocent word; yet how gentle and patient they had been, every single one of them, down to Tim himself! Mother and father, of course, had been angels; one took it for granted that they would be, but who could have believed in such consideration from the boys and girls. Dear old Clemence! What a comfort she had been! Darsie had often been inclined to think that, for sheer rest and soothing, no one could compete with a plump, practical, matter-of-fact sister, who had no thought for "ifs" or "whys," but was full of care to ensure your present physical well-being. Then, if for a moment Clemence seemed to fall short, there was Lavender, ready to pour out floods of sympathy, to mingle her tears with yours, and listen to endless reminiscences. As for the boys, Harry and Russell forbore to tease, affected blindness to reddened eyes, and said, "Buck up, old girl!" with real heartiness of feeling, while Tim was a.s.siduous in the offer of sticky sweets.

The Vernons, lucky creatures! went off _en ma.s.se_ to Switzerland for July and August. Darsie morbidly told herself that they were anxious to avoid the depression of her own presence during the chief holiday of the year. She was, as she expressed it, "too proud to say so," but the inward soreness made her so cold and abrupt in manner that her friends had good cause to reverse the accusation.

With regard to Dan Vernon in especial there was a soreness at Darsie's heart. During the first days after the tragic happening Dan had been a tower of strength, always at hand to comfort, support, and take every difficulty upon his own shoulders. To outward appearance Darsie had appeared oblivious of his presence, but subconsciously she had leaned on his strength with a profound relief. It was hard to have Dan withdraw into his sh.e.l.l just as she was beginning to long for his presence; but he _had_ withdrawn, and like most naturally shy and reticent people, withdrawn farther than ever, as if in reaction from his unusual demonstration.

In hall itself the absence of Margaret France made a big blank. Having pa.s.sed her tripos with a first cla.s.s, Margaret had placidly returned home to help her mother in the house, and take part in an ordinary social life. "What a waste!" cried her Newnham acquaintances, but Margaret's friends, remembering her own words on the subject, believed that she had chosen the better part.

With October came the return to Newnham, and for the first few weeks an access of grief and depression. It was hard to fall into the old life shorn of its greatest interest, to be reminded of Ralph at every turn, to see his friends pa.s.s by, laughing and gay, while his place was blank.

Then it was that Darsie discovered the real tenderness of heart which lies beneath the somewhat callous exterior of the college girl.

Freshers, second-year girls, even austere thirds themselves, combined to surround her with an atmosphere of kindness and consideration. No _word_ of sympathy was ever spoken, but almost every hour of the day brought with it some fresh deed of comfort and cheer. Offerings of flowers, tendered by a friend, or laid anonymously on "burry" or coffin; bags of fruit and cake, invitations galore, surprise visits to her own study, each in turn bringing a gleam of brightness to the day. Plain Hannah, too, dear old plain Hannah! In the midst of her grief Darsie was filled with amus.e.m.e.nt at Hannah's unique fashion of showing her sympathy. Hot water evidently commended itself to her mind as the ideal medium, for at a dozen hours of the day and night the door of Darsie's study would open and Hannah would appear on the threshold, steaming can in hand. Early morning, eleven o'clock, before lunch, before tea, before dinner, before cocoa, before bed, Hannah and her can never failed to appear. For the first half of the Michaelmas term Darsie might literally have been described as never out of hot water.

And now it was the Lent term; eight months had pa.s.sed by since the date of Ralph's death, and it surely behoved Darsie to rise above her depression, and to throw herself once more into the full, happy life of the house. She was thankful to do it, thankful to welcome dawnings of the old zest, to feel her feet involuntarily quicken to a dance, to discover herself singing as she moved to and fro. The winter had pa.s.sed; spring was in the air. It seemed right that it should be in her heart also.

As usual in the Lent term, hockey was the one absorbing subject outside "shop," and Hannah Vernon, now advanced to the lofty position of captain, had special reasons for welcoming her friend's reviving spirits.

One chilly day in February she entered Darsie's study with a somewhat unusual request.

"The girls are getting restive, and think that it's quite time we had another fancy match. They want me to arrange one on the spot. It's so blighting to be told that one is so clever, and looked to for inspiration. Every idea forsakes one on the instant. You've been hibernating for an age, you ought to have lots stored up!"

"I haven't--I've grown hideously dull. What did we have last?"

"Thicks against Thins! Never shall I forget it! To play forward padded with three separate cushions, and with shawls wound round your limbs, is the sort of thing one rises to _once_ in a lifetime, but never twice. I made an adorable fat woman! The Thins had no spirit left in them when they beheld my bulk. I vote that we don't have anything that involves padding this time. One never knows one's luck."

"No-o! I think we might hit on something more subtle," Darsie ruminated, with her eyes on the ceiling. Her reputation of being the Newnham belle remained unchallenged after two separate incursions of Freshers.

As she sat before a "burry," clad in a blue, pinafore-like garment, from which emerged white silk sleeves to match the collar and yoke, her hand absently turning over a pile of notebooks, bound in green and blue and rose, she made a striking contrast to Hannah Vernon in a cinnamon coat and skirt, built for wear by a cheap tailor on the principle of "there or thereabouts." Even the notebooks reflected the personality of their owners, for the one which Hannah carried was of the shiny black persuasion which seemed to proclaim that, being made for good solid work, it disdained the affectation of beauty. Plain Hannah's little eyes twinkled affectionately at her old friend. She detached a pencil from a chain which dangled by her side, and said tentatively--

"Subtle--yes! Good biz! Let's have a Subtler by all means."

"I--was thinking--we might have something touching upon future possibilities. I've not quite got it yet, but something about brides and spinsters. Future brides--budding brides--beautiful brides."

"Easy enough to have adjectives for the brides. Where do the spinsters come in?"

"Oh, one would have to infer--subtly, of course--that they _would_ be spinsters! That would be adjective enough. Embryo spinsters-- preparatory spinsters--p-p-probable spinsters. I have it! I have it!

'Possible Brides against Probable Spinsters!'"

"Ha!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Hannah, and drew her forefinger slowly down her nose.

"_Good_! Top hole. Amusin', but--injudicious? Shouldn't mind one rap myself; lead off the Probables with a cheer. But, I fear me, there'd be brickbats floating in the air. How much would you take in coin of the realm to go up to Vera Ruskin and invite her to play for the spinsters?

Personally I'd rather be excused."

"I'd volunteer as a start! Love to do it!"

"Ye-es! Just so. n.o.ble of you, no doubt; but unconvincing," returned Hannah dryly. "No! It's a fine suggestion in theory, but in practice I'm afraid it won't work. I don't want to imperil my popularity for good. Think of something a trifle less searching! Er--er--Slackers against--against what? Slackers against Swotters! How would that do for a change?"