Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
A College Girl
By Mrs George de Horne Vaizey________________________________________________________________________Here is a book about the young girl and her awakening to the world bythis talented author. Darsie, the heroine, is selected by an old auntto come and spend a year or so as her companion. The old woman triesto coach Darsie in matters of deportment and behaviour. This would bepretty odious if it were not for the presence locally of a young familyof boys and girls of Darsie's age, whom, being rich and living rathergrandly, the aunt allows Darsie to know. The first half of the bookdescribes the times they had. The old aunt promises Darsie that shewill make available the funds needed for Darsie to go up to Cambridgeas a student at Newnham, a girls' college.
When the second half of the book begins the old aunt has just died, andDarsie feels glad that the poor old lady will be relieved of all herpains. The years of studentship are well described, and the friendsthat Darsie made come and go through the story. Finally we reach thelast exams. Darsie does quite well, but is not in the First Class. Shehas a Second, which will be enough for her to be able to go and teach atsome less distinguished school. But her friend Dan, one of those whomwe met in the first half of the book, has obtained a First Class Honoursdegree, and the book ends with him asking her to marry him. What hedoesn't know, and I suppose the author didn't either, is that young mengoing to teach at a top-rate boys' school are expected to spend theirspare time coaching sports, and not to be married. In fact they wouldbe better to have achieved a "Blue" at Oxford or Cambridge than a gooddegree.
I have had to make a slightly strange and annoying change to the name ofone of the girls in the story. I changed Vi Vernon to Vie Vernon. Thereason was that otherwise the speech generator always read her name as"Six Vernon". What we have now sounds correct, but if you read the bookyou will see this mis-spelling two dozen times. My apologies for doingthis, but you will understand why I did it.
It is a good read, and as always I recommend making an audiobook of it,so that you can listen to it. NH________________________________________________________________________
A COLLEGE GIRL
BY MRS GEORGE DE HORNE VAIZEY
CHAPTER ONE.
BOYS AND GIRLS.
This is the tale of two terraces, of two families who lived therein, ofseveral boys and many girls, and especially of one Darsie, hereducation, adventures, and ultimate romance.
Darsie was the second daughter in a family of six, and by reason of herupsetting nature had won for herself that privilege of priority which byall approved traditions should have belonged to Clemence, the eldersister. Clemence was serene and blonde; in virtue of her seventeenyears her pigtail was now worn doubled up, and her skirts had reachedthe discreet level of her ankles. She had a soft pink and white face,and a pretty red mouth, the lips of which permanently fell apart,disclosing two small white teeth in the centre of the upper gum, becauseof which peculiarity her affectionate family had bestowed upon her thenickname of "Bunnie." Perhaps the cognomen had something to do with hersubordinate position. It was impossible to imagine any one with thename of "Bunnie" queening it over that will-o'-the-wisp, that electricflash, that tantalising, audacious creature who is the heroine of thesepages.
Darsie at fifteen! How shall one describe her to the unfortunates whohave never beheld her in the flesh? It is for most girls an awkwardage, an age of angles, of ungainly bulk, of awkward ways, self-consciousspeech, crass ignorance, and sublime conceit. Clemence had passedthrough this stage with much suffering of spirits on her own part andthat of her relations; Lavender, the third daughter, showed at thirteenpreliminary symptoms of appalling violence; but Darsie remained as everthat fascinating combination of a child and a woman of the world, whichhad been her characteristic from earliest youth. Always graceful andalert, she sailed triumphant through the trying years, with straightback, graceful gait, and eyes a-shine with a happy self-confidence. "Iam here!" announced Darsie's eyes to an admiring world. "Let the bandstrike up!"
Some inherent quality in Darsie--some grace, some charm, some spell--which she wove over the eyes of beholders, caused them to credit herwith a beauty which she did not possess. Even her family shared in thisdelusion, and set her up as the superlative in degree, so that "aspretty as Darsie" had come to be regarded a climax of praise. The glintof her chestnut hair, the wide, bright eyes, the little oval face set ona long, slim throat smote the onlooker with instant delight, and soblinded him that he had no sight left with which to behold the blemisheswhich walked hand in hand. Photographs valiantly strove to demonstratethe truth; pointed out with cruel truth the stretching mouth, the small,inadequate nose, but even the testimony of sunlight could not convincethe blind. They sniffed, and said: "What a travesty! Never again to_that_ photographer! Next time we'll try the man in C-- Street," andDarsie's beauty lived on, an uncontroverted legend.
By a triumph of bad management, which the Garnett girls never ceased todeplore, their three brothers came at the end instead of the beginningof the family. Three grown-up brothers would have been a grand asset;big boys who would have shown a manly tenderness towards the weaknessesof little sisters; who would have helped and amused; big boys going toschool, young men going to college, coming home in the vacations,bringing their friends, acting as squires and escorts to the girls athome. Later on brothers at business, wealthy brothers, generousbrothers; brothers who understood how _long_ quarter-day was in cominground, and how astonishingly quickly a girl's allowance vanishes intospace! Clemence, Darsie, and Lavender had read of such brothers inbooks, and would have gladly welcomed their good offices in the flesh,but three noisy, quarrelsome, more or less grimy schoolboys, superblyindifferent to "those girls"--this was another, and a very differenttale! Harry was twelve--a fair, blunt-featured lad with a yawningcavity in the front of his mouth, the result of one of the manyaccidents which had punctuated his life. On the top story of theGarnett house there ran a narrow passage, halfway along which, for wantof a better site, a swing depended from two great iron hooks. Harry, aschampion swinger, ever striving after fresh flights, had one day in afrenzy of enthusiasm swung the rings free from their hold, anddescended, swing and all, in a crash on the oil-clothed floor. Thecrash, the shrieks of the victim and his attendant sprites, smote uponMrs Garnett's ears as she sat wrestling with the "stocking basket" in aroom below, and as she credibly avowed, took years from her life.Almost the first objects which met her eye, when, in one bound, as itseemed, she reached the scene of the disaster, was a selection of smallwhite teeth scattered over the oil-clothed floor. Henceforth for yearsHarry pursued his way minus front teeth, and the nursery legend darklyhinted that so injured had been the gums by his fall that no secondsupply could be expected. Harry avowed a sincere aspiration that thisshould be the case. "I can eat as much without them," he declared, "andwhen I grow up I'll have them false, and be an explorer, and scaresavages like the man in Rider Haggard," so that teeth, or no teeth,would appear to hold the secret of his destiny.
Russell had adenoids, and snored. His peculiarities included a facultyfor breaking his bones, at frequent and inconvenient occasions, aninsatiable curiosity about matters with which he had no concern, and amost engaging and delusive silkiness of manner. "Gentleman Russell," atitle bestowed by his elders, had an irritating effect on an elderbrother conscious of being condemned by the contrast, and when quoteddownstairs brought an unfailing echo of thumps in the seclusion of theplayroom.
Tim played on his privileges as "littlest," and his mother's barelyconcealed partiality, and was as irritating to his elders as a smallperson can be, who is always present when he is not wanted, absent whenhe is, in peace adopts the airs of a conqueror, and in w
arfare promptlycries, and collapses into a curly-headed baby boy, whom the authoritiesdeclare it is "cr-uel" to bully!
For the rest, the house was of the high and narrow order common to townterraces, inconveniently crowded by its many inmates, and viewed fromwithout, of a dark and grimy appearance.
Sandon Terrace had no boast to make either from an architectural or aluxurious point of view, and was so obviously inferior to its neighbour,Napier Terrace, that it was lacerating to the Garnett pride to feel thattheir sworn friends the Vernons were so much better domiciled thanthemselves. Napier Terrace had a strip of garden between itself and therough outer world; big gateways stood at either end, and what Vie Vernongrandiloquently spoke of as "a carriage sweep" curved broadly between.Divided accurately among the houses in the terrace, the space of groundapportioned to each was limited to a few square yards, but the Vernonswere chronically superior on the subject of "the grounds," and inspringtime when three hawthorns, a lilac, and one spindly laburnum-treestruggled into bloom, their airs were beyond endurance.
The Vernons had also a second claim to superiority over the Garnetts,inasmuch as they were the proud possessors of an elder brother, a remoteand learned person who gained scholarships, and was going to be PrimeMinister when he was grown up. Dan at eighteen, coaching with a tutorpreparatory to going up to Cambridge, was removed by continents ofsuperiority from day-school juniors. Occasionally in their disguise ofthe deadly jealousy which in truth consumed them, the Garnett familyendeavoured to make light of the personality of this envied person. Tobegin with, his name! "Dan" was well enough. "Dan" sounded a boy-likeboy, a manly man; of a "Dan" much might be expected in the way of sportand mischief, but--oh, my goodness--_Daniel_! The Garnetts discussedthe cognomen over the play-room fire.
"It must be so _embarrassing_ to have a Bible name!" Lavender opined."Think of church! When they read about me I should be covered withconfusion, and imagine that every one was staring at our pew!"
Clemence stared thoughtfully into space. "I, Clemence, take theeDaniel," she recited slowly, and shuddered. "No--really, I couldn't!"
"He wouldn't have you!" the three boys piped; even Tim, who plainly wastalking of matters he could not understand, added his note to thechorus, but Darsie cocked her little head, and added eagerly--
"Couldn't you, really? What _could_ you, do you think?"
Clemence stared again, more rapt than ever.
"Lancelot, perhaps," she opined, "or Sigismund. Everard's nice too, orRonald or Guy--"
"Bah! Sugary. _I_ couldn't! Daniel is _ugly_," Darsie admitted, "butit's strong. Dan Vernon will fight lions like the Bible one; they'llroar about him, and his enemies will cast him in, but they'll not manageto kill him. He'll trample them under foot, and leave them behind, likemilestones on the road." Darsie was nothing if not inaccurate, but inthe bosom of one's own family romantic flights are not allowed to atonefor discrepancies, and the elder sister was quick to correct.
"Daniel didn't fight the lions! What's the use of being high falutin'and making similes that aren't correct?"
"Dear Clemence, you _are_ so literal!" Darsie tilted her head with anair of superiority which reduced the elder to silence, the while shecogitated painfully why such a charge should be cast as a reproach. Tobe literal was to be correct. Daniel had _not_ fought the lions!Darsie had muddled up the fact in her usual scatterbrain fashion, and bygood right should have deplored her error. Darsie, however, was seldomknown to do anything so dull; she preferred by a nimble change of frontto put others in the wrong, and keep the honours to herself. Now, aftera momentary pause, she skimmed lightly on to another phase of thesubject. "What should you say was the character and life history of awoman who could call her eldest child `Daniel,' the second `ViolaImogen,' and the third and fourth `Hannah' and `John'?"
Clemence had no inspiration on the subject. She said: "Don't be silly!"sharply, and left it to Lavender to supply the necessary stimulus.
"_Tell_ us, Darsie, tell us! You make it up--"
"My dear, it is evident to the meanest intellect. She was the child ofa simple country household, who, on her marriage, went to live in atown; and when her first-born son was born, she pined to have himchristened by her father's name in the grey old church beneath the ivytower; so they travelled there, and the white-haired sire held theinfant at the font, while the tears furrowed his aged cheeks. _But_--byslow degrees the insidious effects of the great capital invaded the mindof the sweet young wife, and the simple tastes of her girlhood turned tovanity, so that when the second babe was born, and her husband wished tocall her Hannah after her sainted grandmother, she wept, and made anawful fuss, and would not be consoled until he gave in to Viola Imogen,and a christening cloak trimmed with plush. And she was christened in acity church, and the organ pealed, and the godmothers wore rich array,and the poor old father stayed at home and had a slice of christeningcake sent by the post. But the years passed on. Saddened and soberedby the discipline of life, aged and worn, her thoughts turned once moreto her quiet youth, and when at last a third child--"
"There's only two years between them!"
Darsie frowned, but continued her narrative in a heightened voice--
"--Was laid in her arms, and her husband suggested `Ermyntrude'; sheshuddered, and murmured softly, `Hannah--_plain_ Hannah!' and plainHannah she has been ever since!"
A splutter of laughter greeted this _denouement_, for in truth HannahVernon was not distinguished for her beauty, being one of the plainest,and at the same time the most good-natured of girls.
Lavender cried eagerly--
"Go on! Make up some more," but Clemence from the dignity of seventeenyears felt bound to protest--
"I don't think you--_ought_! It's not your business. Mrs Vernon's afriend, and she wouldn't be pleased. To talk behind her back--"
"All right," agreed Darsie swiftly. "Let's crack nuts!"
Positively she left one breathless! One moment poised on imaginaryflights, weaving stories from the baldest materials, drawing allegoriesof the lives of her friends, the next--an irresponsible wisp, with nothought in the world but the moment's frolic; but whatever might be thefancy of the moment she drew her companions after her with the magnetismof a born leader.
In the twinkling of an eye the scene was changed, the Vernons with theirpeculiarities were consigned to the limbo of forgotten things, whileboys and girls squatted on the rug scrambling for nuts out of a paperbag, and cracking them with their teeth with monkey-like agility.
"How many can you crack at a time? Bet you I can crack more than you!"cried Darsie loudly.