CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
FIRST EXPERIENCES.
During the first month at Newnham Darsie and Hannah fell gradually andhappily into the routine of college life. They grew to recognise theircompanions by name, and to place them according to their several"shops"; they entertained cocoa parties in their rooms; picked up slangterms, and talked condescendingly of "townees"; they paid upsubscriptions to "Hall," "Games," "Flowers," and "Fic"; slept, played,and laughed and talked, and, above all, _worked_, with heart and mind,and with every day that passed were more convinced that to be a studentat Cambridge was the most glorious fate that any girl could desire.
A week after the beginning of term Helen Ross, the fortunate possessorof a double room, gave a tea-party, with one of the younger Dons aschaperon, to which Dan Vernon and a companion were invited. Ostensiblythe party was given in Hannah's honour, but to her astonishment anddismay Hannah's friend was not favoured with an invitation, and felt herfirst real twinge of loneliness in the knowledge that two old friendswere making merry together but a few yards away, while she sat solitaryand alone. What she had done to incur Helen Ross's dislike Darsie couldnot imagine, and, fortunately for herself, she was too large-hearted tosuspect that it arose simply from an unattractive girl's jealousy of onewhom all had combined to love and admire. Be that as it may, Darsie wasleft out of the tea-party, and her subsequent cross-questionings ofHannah were far from comforting.
"Had a good time?"
"Top hole."
"Nice people there?"
"Topping."
"Good cakes?"
"Scrum!"
"Dan ask for me?"
"No."
"Then he ought to have done!" Darsie told herself indignantly, and herthoughts flew off to Ralph Percival, wondering when she would see himnext, and recalling with pleasure his promise to "see her through."
The approach of the Freshers' hockey match banished less importanttopics, for Hannah was on edge with anxiety to be at her best, anddisport herself sufficiently well to be included in after-teampractices, while Darsie was scarcely less eager on her behalf.
When the afternoon arrived and the match began, the second and thirdyear girls crowded to look on, while the Captain stood apart surroundedby a few satellites from the Committee, as truly the monarch of all shesurveyed as any king who ever graced a throne. The thoughts of eachFresher turned with an anguish of appeal towards this figure; a smile onher face raised them to the seventh heaven; a frown laid them in thedust! Extraordinary to think that two short years ago this oracle hadbeen a Fresher like themselves! Inconceivable to imagine that in twoyears to come they themselves might occupy that same magnificentaltitude!
The eyes of the Oracle fell upon Hannah and approved what she saw, andhenceforth Hannah took part in team practices, and lorded it overDarsie, who in her turn affected a growing antagonism to the game.
"You can have too much of a good thing--even of games--and I seem tohave _eaten_ hockey every meal since I arrived!" she announcedimpatiently; and in truth, since an unwritten law forbade the discussionof "shop" at table, the conversation was largely limited todissertations on this the most popular of games.
On Sundays the two girls went together to King's College Chapel andgazed with admiration at the vaulted stone roof, with its marvellous fantracery; at its towering stained-glass windows, and the screen bearingthe monogram of Anne Boleyn; at the delicate carving of the stalls. Itwas so wonderfully different from the dreary town edifice in which theyhad been accustomed to worship, with its painted walls, heavy gallery,and wheezy organ played by an indifferent musician--so wonderfully,gloriously different that Darsie felt a pricking at the back of her eyesas though she were ready to cry for sheer pleasure and admiration. Themusic and the sermon seemed alike perfect, and Darsie ardently followedeach stage of the service.
Some people are inclined to grow frivolous and forgetful when the worldgoes well with them and the desire of their hearts is accomplished;others are filled with a passion of gratitude and thanksgiving, andDarsie Garnett belonged to the latter category. Prosperity made hermore humble, more kindly, more overflowing with love to God and man. Aportrait of Lady Hayes stood on her study mantelpiece, and every morningand evening she bent her sunny head to kiss the stern old face. Dearold Aunt Maria! she had so loved being kissed--_really_ kissed, as ifone meant it. If in that higher life to which she had gone she knewwhat was happening on earth, Darsie felt sure that she would like toknow that her portrait was still cherished. Her thoughts hoveredgratefully about the dead woman as she sat in this wonderful old church,and pictured with awe the succeeding generations who had worshippedwithin its walls. It was only when the sermon was at an end that,turning her head, Darsie met the gaze of a girl sitting a few seatsaway, and after a moment of bewilderment recognised the widely set eyesand curling lips of Margaret France.
In her dark hat and coat she looked less attractive than in eveningdress, but the fact made no difference in the thrill of pleasure withwhich Darsie realised her presence. Some quality in this girl appealedto the deep places of her heart; she realised instinctively that if theattraction were mutual the tie between them would be close and firm, butit must be all or nothing--she could never dally with friendship withMargaret France!
Walking home slowly along Silver Street, she found herself answeringabsently to Hannah's remarks, her whole attention riveted on watchingthe passers-by, wondering if by any possibility Margaret France wouldstop to speak to her once more, and her heart leaped with exultation asa footstep paused by her side, and the clear, crisp tones addressed herby name.
"Morning, Miss Garnett! Morning, Miss Vernon! Ripping day, isn't it?Glad to see you in King's. Saw you long before you spotted me, andenjoyed your enjoyment. Never forgot my first services. Good to bethere, isn't it?"
"Oh-h!" Darsie's deep-drawn breath of rapture was an eloquent response."I _have_ been happy! I've never in my life seen anything so wonderfulbefore. It seems almost too good to be true that I can go there everySunday for years to come. Cambridge is wonderful. I am more enchantedevery day. Even to walk along the streets is a joy."
"Good!" cried Margaret heartily. "Drop in to five o'clock servicesometimes when you're feeling tired, and tied up with your work. It's agrand soother. How goes the work so far? Enjoying the lectures?Finding the literature interesting?"
The two Modern Languages discussed work together eagerly, whilemathematical Hannah marched on a few feet ahead. Darsie felt a pang ofremorse, because she could not help wishing that she would _stay_ ahead,and so give the chance of a prolonged _tete-a-tete_ with MargaretFrance. The feeling of attraction was so strong now that they were faceto face that it was only by an effort of will that she could resistslipping her hand through the black serge arm, but the expression of herface was eloquent, and Margaret smiled back well pleased. When theyparted a few minutes later to go to their different halls, the oldergirl said casually, but in a lowered voice which showed that theinvitation was meant for Darsie alone--
"By the way, I'm at home for cocoa on Tuesday evenings at ten. Bringyour milk, and come along, will you! I'd like to have you."
"Rather!" cried Darsie eloquently, and ran up to her room aglow withdelight and pride, which grew still deeper at lunch when a casualreference to the invitation (it was really impossible to keep silent onso thrilling a point!) evoked a wide stare of surprise.
"To her Tuesdays! Are you sure? Nobody goes to those but her very booncompanions. You _are_ honoured!"
"Didn't ask _me_, I notice!" sniffed Hannah huffily. "No twin soulhere. Recognised an affinity in you, I suppose."
"Well, _I_ wasn't asked to play in team matches! Don't grudge me mylittle score!" returned Darsie, knowing well that an honour in sport wasmore to her companion than many cocoas. "Besides, you must remember youhave Helen Ross!"
"Oh, ah, yes! Helen Ross dotes on me. Disinterested, of course. Noconnection with the brother over the way!" commented Hannah with a grin."B
y the way, I hear from Dan that your friend Ralph Percival is introuble already, playing cards, getting into debt, and staying out afterhours. Seems to be a poor-spirited sort of fellow from all accounts!"
"He saved my life, anyway, when I was a youngster, and very nearlydrowned myself, paddling up a mill-stream. There's no want of spiritabout Ralph. Life has been made too easy for him, that's the mischief!"said Darsie in her most elderly and judicial manner. "It's difficult tokeep to the grind when you know that you will never need to work. Heneeds an object in life. Until he finds that, he will be content todrift."
"He'll drift into being sent down at this rate. That will be the end ofhim!" croaked Hannah gloomily; whereupon Darsie knitted her brows andcollapsed into silence for the rest of the meal.
Poor, dear, handsome Ralph! At the bottom of her heart Darsie washardly surprised to hear Hannah's report. The indifference with whichhe had entered upon his college life had not developed into any moreearnest spirit, as had been abundantly proved by his conversation whenthe two had last met, during the long vacation, while the hesitatingmanner of his mother and sisters seemed to hint at a hidden anxiety. Inthe depths of her heart Darsie was feeling considerably piqued by thefact that though she had now been over a month in Cambridge Ralph hadshown no anxiety to meet her, or to fulfil his promise of "showing theropes." Other girls had been invited to merry tea-parties in thedifferent colleges, and almost daily she had expected such an invitationfor herself, but neither of her two men friends had paid her this markof attention; but for the fact of an occasional meeting in the streetsthey might as well have been at the other end of the land. Prideforbade her commenting on the fact even to Hannah; but inwardly she haddetermined to be very proud and haughty when the deferred meeting cameabout. Dan was too wrapped up in himself to care for outsiders; Ralphwas a slacker--not worth a thought. Darsie dismissed them both with ashrug. Margaret France was worth a dozen men put together!
Ten o'clock on Tuesday evening seemed long in coming, but the momentthat the clock pointed to the hour Darsie hastened to her new friend'sstudy, and to her satisfaction found her still alone. The room lookeddelightfully cosy with pink shades over the lights, a clear blaze uponthe grate, and Margaret herself, in a pink rest-gown curled up in awicker-chair, was the very embodiment of ease. She did not rise asDarsie entered, but pointed to a chair close at hand, with an eagernesswhich was in itself the best welcome.
"That's right. Come along! I'm glad you're the first. Sit down andlook around. How do you like my den?"
Darsie stared to right and left with curious eyes, and came to theinstant conclusion that Margaret's room was like herself. From floor toceiling, from window to door, there was not one single article which didnot give back a cheering impression. If the article were composed ofmetal, it shone and glittered until it could shine no farther; if ofoak, every leaf and moulding spoke of elbow-grease, and clean, fresh-smelling polish; if it were a fabric of wool or cotton, it wasinvariably of some shade of rose, shedding, as it were, an aspect ofsummer in the midst of November gloom.
Over the fireplace was fastened a long brown-paper scroll, on which somewords were painted in big ornamental letters. Darsie read them with athrill of appreciation--
"Two men looked out through prison bars, One saw mud, the other stars!"
The eyes of the two girls met, and lingered. Then Darsie spoke--
"That's your motto in life! You look out for stars--"
"Yes! So do you. That's why I wanted to be friends."
"I wonder!" mused Darsie, and sat silent, gazing into the fire. "It isbeautiful, and I understand the drift, but--would you mind paraphrasingit for my benefit?"
"It's so simple. There _is_ mud, and there _are_ stars. It's just achoice of where we choose to look."
"Yes--I see. But don't you think there are times--when one is awfullydown on one's luck, for instance--when there's no one on earth so tryingas the persistent optimist who _will_ make the best of everything, andtake a cheerful view! You want to murder him in cold blood. I do, atleast. You feel ever so much more cheered by some one who acknowledgesthe mud, and says how horrid it is, and pities you for sticking sofast!"
Margaret's ringing laugh showed all her pretty white teeth. She rubbedher hands together in delighted appreciation.
"Oh, I know, I know! I want to kill them, too. Vision's not a mite ofuse without tact. But no bars can shut out the stars if we choose tolet them shine."
Her own face was ashine as she spoke, but anything more unlike"goodiness," abhorred by every normal girl, it would be impossible toimagine.
"Tell me about your work--how do you get on with your coach?" she askedthe next moment, switching off to ordinary subjects in the most easy andnatural of manners, and Darsie found herself laying bare all the littlehitches and difficulties which must needs enter into even the mostcongenial course of study, and being alternately laughed at andconsoled, and directed towards a solution by brisk, apt words.
"You're all right--you've got a head. You'll come through on top, ifyou'll be content to go slow. Want to take the Tripos first year, andhonours at that--that's your style! Calm down, my dear, and be contentto jog. It pays better in the end." She flashed a radiant smile atDarsie's reddening face, then jumped up to greet her other guests of theevening, three in number, who appeared at that moment, each carrying herown precious portion of milk.
One was "Economics" and owned so square a jaw that the line of it (therewas no curve) seemed to run down straight with the ear; another was"Science" and wore spectacles; a third was "Modern Languages," like thehost, but one and all shared an apparently unlimited appetite for Cocoa,Conversation, and Chelsea buns, the which they proceeded to enjoy to thefull. "Modern Languages" being in the ascendant, indulged in a little"shop" as a preliminary, accompanied by the sighs, groans, andcomplaints incidental to the subject.
"How's your drama getting on? Is it developing satisfactorily?"Student Number Two inquired of Darsie, in reference to the paper givenout at the last lecture in Divinity Hall, and Darsie shrugged with aplaintive air.
"I've been struggling to develop it, to _trace_ its development, as hesaid; but the tracings are decidedly dim! I get on much better with asubject on which I can throw a little imagination. `The growth of thenovel,' for instance--I wove quite a fairy-tale out of that."
The girls smiled, but with a dubious air.
"Better be careful! That's a ruse which most of us have tried in ourday, and come wearily back to sober fact... How do you like theHistorical French Grammar?"
The Fresher made a gesture as if to tear her hair, whereupon the second-year girls groaned in chorus.
"Hopeless! Piteous! In last year's Tripos the paper was positivelyinhuman. The girls said it was impossible even to understand thequestions, much less to answer them."
"Wicked! Waste of time, I call it. Most of us are training to teach,but it's not one in a hundred who will be called upon to teach _that_erudite horror."
Darsie looked at Margaret France as she spoke, and saw at once by theexpression of her companions that she had touched on a delicate subject.There was a moment's silence, then--
"I am not going to teach," said Margaret, smiling.
"Really! Then-- What are you going to do?"
"Live at home."
A future profession seemed so universal a prospect with the Newnhamstudents that Margaret's reply amazed Darsie as much as it appeared toannoy her other hearers.
Economics sniffed, and muttered beneath her breath; Science staredfixedly at the ceiling through her glittering spectacles; ModernLanguages groaned aloud.
"With your brain! With your spirit! After this training! Such wickedwaste..."
Margaret laughed lightly.
"Oh, Darsie Garnett, how mean of you, when I feed you with my bestChelsea buns, to land me in this time-honoured discussion! I'm an onlychild, and my parents have been perfect bricks in giving me my wish andsparing me for three whole
years! The least I can do is to go home anddo a turn for them. I fail to see where the waste comes in!"
"All you have learned--all you have studied--all you have read--"
"Just so! I hope it will make me a more interesting companion for them.And for myself! I've got to live with myself all the days of my life,remember, and I do _not_ wish to be bored!"
"You have such power, such capacity! You might do some work for theworld!"
"I intend to. What's the world made up of, after all, but a number ofseparate homes? As a matter of ordinary common sense isn't it best towork in one's _own_ home, rather than in a strange one?"
Margaret threw out her hands with a pretty appealing gesture, and hercompanions stared at her in silence, apparently too nonplussed to reply.Before they had time to rally to the attack, however, a startlinginterruption had occurred.
With a suddenness and violence which made the cocoa-drinkers jump intheir seats the door burst open, and the figure of a girl in eveningdress precipitated herself into their midst. Her light skirt was thrownover her shoulders, revealing an abbreviated white petticoat; her eyeswere fixed with a deadly determination; regardless of the occupants ofthe room or of the articles of furniture scattered here and there, sheflew at lightning speed to the window, closed it with a resounding bang,leaped like a cat at the ventilator overhead, banged that also, and withone bound was out of the room, the door making a third bang in her wake.
Darsie gasped in dismay. She herself had been transfixed withastonishment, but her companions had displayed a marvellous self-possession. Margaret had wrapped her arms round the cocoa-table toprotect it from upset, another girl had steadied the screen, a third hadobligingly lifted her chair out of the way; but no sign of alarm orcuriosity showed upon their faces, which fact did but heighten themystery of the situation.
"Is she--is she _mad_?"
The second-year girls laughed in chorus. From afar could be heard asuccession of bang, bang, bangs, as if in every study in the house thesame performance was being enacted. Margaret nodded at the Fresher withkindly reassurance.
"Only the fire drill! They've had an alarm, and she's told to shut offdraughts. Very good going! Not more than five or six seconds alltold!"
"There isn't really--"
"Oh, dear, no. No such luck! Poor fun having a fire brigade, and nochance to show its mettle. But we live in hope. You ought to join. Ican imagine you making a magnificent captain."
So here was another ambition. Darsie made a mental note to inquire intothe workings of the fire brigade, and to offer her name as a recruitwithout delay.