CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
CHRISTMAS DAY.
It was Christmas Day; fifteen eventful months had passed by since DarsieGarnett and Hannah Vernon had made their appearance in Clough in thecharacter of modest and diffident Freshers. Now, advanced to thedignity of second-year girls, they patronised new-comers with the best,and talked, thought, and behaved as though, deprived of their valuablesupport, the historical centre of Cambridge must swiftly crumble to thedust.
The little air of assurance and self-esteem which seems inseparable froma feminine student had laid its hand on Darsie's beauty, robbing it ofthe old shy grace, and on each fresh return to the old home Clemence andLavender eloquently described themselves as "squelched flat" by thedignified young woman who sailed about with her head in the air, anddelivered an ultimatum on every subject as it arose, with an air of "Myopinion is final. Let no dog bark!"
These mannerisms, however, were only, after all, a veneer; and when twoor three days of merry, rollicking family life had passed by, the oldDarsie made her appearance once more, forgot to be learned and superior,forbore to refer to college and college ways in every second or thirdsentence, and showed a reviving interest in family affairs.
Clemence was fatter than ever, a subject of intense mortification toherself, though at each fresh meeting she confided in whispered asidesthat she had "lost five pounds--ten pounds," as the case might be. Noone believed in these diminutions, but if one happened to be amiablydisposed, one murmured vaguely, and affected conviction; and if one werenot, one openly jeered and scoffed! Lavender was sentimental and wrotepoetry in which "pale roses died, in the garden wide, and the wind blewdrear, o'er the stricken mere." She had advanced to the dignity of longskirts, and dressed her hair--badly!--in the latest eccentricity offashion.
Vie Vernon, on the contrary, had developed into a most elegant person,quite an accomplished woman of the world, darkly suspected of "going tobe engaged" to a young lawyer with a dark moustache, who had latelydeveloped a suspicious fondness for her father's company.
It really gave one quite a shock to realise _how_ grown-up the oldcompanions had become even the brothers Harry and Russell weretransformed into tall striplings who bought newspapers on their ownaccount, and preferred, actually _preferred_, to be clean rather thandirty! It was a positive relief to listen to Tim's loud voice, look athis grimy paws, and reflect that one member of the family was still inthe enjoyment of youth.
As usual, the postman's arrival was the first excitement of Christmasmorning. He brought with him an armful of letters and parcels, andDarsie was quick to spy Ralph Percival's handwriting upon one of thesmallest and most attractive-looking of the packets.
The colour came into her cheeks as she looked, but after holding theparcel uncertainly for a moment, she laid it down again, and proceededto open other letters and boxes, leaving this particular one to thelast. An onlooker would have been puzzled to decide whether it was moredread or expectation which prompted this decision; and perhaps Darsieherself could hardly have answered the question. The table was soonspread with envelopes and wrappings of paper which had enclosedsouvenirs from college friends, and the more costly offerings from MrsPercival and her girls, inscribed with the orthodox words of greeting.Darsie ranged them in order, and then, still hesitating, turned to thelast packet of all.
Inside was a note folded so as to act as additional wrapper for a smallwhite box. Ralph's writing, large and well-formed like himself, filledthe half-sheet.
"Dear Darsie,--I hope you will accept the enclosed trifle which has beenmade for you, from my own design. You will understand its meaning! Iam more than ever in need of pulling up! Don't fail a fellow, Darsie!
"Yours,--
"Ralph B. Percival."
Inside the box lay a small but beautifully modelled anchor brooch, witha fine golden rope twined round the stock. Darsie looked at it with thesame mingling of joy and pain which seemed inseparable from each stageof her friendship with this attractive but irresponsible young man.
It was just like Ralph to have thought of this pretty and graceful wayof expressing his sentiments, and it was not in girl nature to resist aglow of gratified vanity; but as she turned the golden anchor in herhands and realised the significance of the symbol, an old impatiencestirred in Darsie's heart. A man who trusted to another for anchoragein life, and who was ever in danger of breaking loose and drifting on tothe rocks, was not the strong knight of a young girl's dreams. Therewere moments when the protecting tenderness which had prompted the lastyear's efforts gave place to sudden intolerance and resentment.
Inspired by Mrs Reeves's words in her first term at college, Darsie hadset gallantly to the task of influencing Ralph Percival for good, andpreventing his further deterioration. At first it had appeared aforlorn hope; and she would have despaired many a time if it had notbeen for the encouragement which she received from Mrs Reeves and her"curate," Margaret France. Then gradually and surely her influence hadbegun to make itself felt. It could not truthfully be said that she hadso inspired Ralph that he had turned over a new leaf, and abandoned badpractices from a desire for the right itself. If the truth must betold, desire for his pretty mentor's approbation and praise had been afar stronger factor in the improvement which seemed to have beeneffected.
Ralph was emotional, and as his interest in Darsie deepened into thesentimental attachment which seemed a natural development of theirintimacy, he grew increasingly anxious to stand well in her estimation.During the May term there had been teas in the college gardens,breakfast parties at the Orchard, picnics on the river, which hadafforded opportunities of _tete-a-tete_ conversations when, amidst theflowers and the sunshine, it had been quite an agreeable sensation tolament over one's weaknesses and shortcomings, and to receive in returnthe wisest of counsels from Darsie's pretty lips.
"To please _you_, Darsie!--I'm hanged if I care what other people think,but if _you_ ask me--" The promises gained were all couched in thispersonal vein. "If you chuck me, Darsie, I shan't worry any more."This was the threat held out for the future. Unsatisfactory, if youwill, yet the fact remained that for the first part of the last termRalph _had_ appeared to show greater interest in work than he had beforemanifested, and had been involved in a minimum of scrapes.
There were moments when, remembering these facts, Darsie felt proudlythat she had not lived in vain; moments when Ralph's dependence onherself and graceful acknowledgments of her help seemed the chiefinterest in life. But there were also other moments when the bondbetween them weighed heavy as a chain. In less than two years thetraining days would be over, Ralph would be a man, and she herself awoman on the threshold of life. Would she be expected to play the partof permanent anchor, and, if so, could she, should she undertake thetask?
For the last few weeks of the term Darsie had been so absorbed in herown surroundings that she had had no time or thought to bestow onoutside interests, and Mrs Reeves being abroad, no college news came toher ears from that source.
Now since the beginning of the holidays Ralph's name had hardly beenmentioned, since family interests were predominant, and Darsie hadlearned from experience that the subject of "Percival" was calculated tosend Dan Vernon into his most taciturn mood.
On this Christmas morning, however, Darsie was in a mood of somewhatreckless gaiety; let the future take care of itself. For to-day, atleast, she was young and happy and free; the Vernon family was comingover in bulk to spend the evening, when the presence of one of Dan'schums would supply an agreeable element of novelty to the occasion. Notone single gloomy thought must be allowed to cloud the sunshine of thisChristmas Day!
Dinner was served at seven o'clock, and was truly a festive occasion.The dining-room table being unequal to the task of providingaccommodation for sixteen people, the schoolroom table had to be used asa supplement. It was a good inch higher than the other, and suppliedwith a preponderance of legs, but these small drawbacks could not weighagainst the magnificent effect of the combined len
gth, covered, as itwas, with fruit, flowers, and a plethora of bright red bonbons andcrackers. The girls wore their prettiest evening frocks; the turkey,the goose, the plum-pudding, and the mince-pies were all paragons oftheir kind, while dessert was enlivened by the discovery of smallsurprise presents cunningly hidden away within hollowed oranges, apples,and nuts. Silver thimbles, pocket-calendars, stamp-cases, sleeve-links,and miniature brooches, made their appearance with such extraordinaryunexpectedness that Darsie finally declared she was afraid to venture toeat even a grape, lest she might swallow a diamond alive!
When the hilarious meal had come to an end, the company adjourned into adrawing-room illumined by firelight only, but such firelight! For overa week those logs had been stacked by the kitchen grate so that theymight become "as dry as tinder."
Placed in the big grate, they sent up a leaping, crackling flame whichwas in itself an embodiment of cheer, and when the sixteen chairs werefilled and ranged in a circle round the blaze, there was a Christmaspicture complete, and as goodly and cheery a picture as one need wish tosee. A basket of fir-cones stood at either side of the grate, and theorder of proceedings was that each guest in turn should drop a cone intothe heart of the fire, and relate an amusing story or coincidence thewhile it burned. Results proved that the amount of time so consumedvaried so strangely that suggestions of foul play were made by more thanone raconteur.
"It's not fair! Some one has got at these cones! Some of them havebeen soaked to make them damp!--"
Be that as it may, no one could possibly have foretold who would happento hit on this particular cone, so that the charge of injustice fellswiftly to the ground.
Mrs Garnett opened the ball with a coincidence taken from her own life,the cone burning bright and blue the while.
"When I was a girl of twenty, living at home with my father and mother,I had a curiously distinct dream one night about a certain MrDalrymple. We knew no one of that name, but in my dream he appeared tobe a lifelong friend. He was a clergyman, about sixty years of age--nothandsome, but with a kind, clever face. He had grey hair, and heavyblack eyebrows almost meeting over his nose. I was particularlyinterested in his appearance, because--this is the exciting part!--inmy dream I was engaged to him, and we were going to be married thefollowing month... Next morning, when I awoke, the impression left wasunusually distinct, and at breakfast I made them all laugh over mymatrimonial plans. My sisters called me `Mrs Dalrymple' for severaldays, and then the joke faded away, and was replaced by something newerand more exciting. Two years passed by, and then, in the summerholidays, I went to Scotland to pay a visit. A slight accident on theline delayed me at a small station for a couple of hours, and I strolledthrough the village to pass the time by seeing what could be seen. Itwas a dull little place, and the principal street was empty of every onebut a few children until, when I reached the end, a man in a black coatcame suddenly out of a house and walked towards me. He was tall andelderly and thin, his hair was grey, his eyebrows were dark and met in apeak over his nose. My heart gave a great big jump, for it was the faceof the man I had seen in my dream--the man who was to have been myhusband! You can imagine my surprise! It was many, many months since Ihad given a thought to the silly old dream, but at the first glance atthat face the memory of it came back as clear and distinct as on themorning after it had happened. I walked towards him quite dazed withsurprise, and then another extraordinary thing happened! He wasevidently short-sighted, and could not distinguish figures at adistance, but presently, as we drew nearer together, he in his turnstarted violently, stared in my face as if he could hardly believe hiseyes, and then rushed forward and seized me by the hand. `I _am_ gladto see you--I _am_ glad! This _is_ a pleasure! When did you come?'Poor old man! My blank face showed him his mistake, and he dropped myhand and began to mumble out apologies. `I've made a mistake. Ithought you were--I thought you were--' He frowned, evidently searchedin vain for a clue, and added feebly, `I thought I knew you. _Your faceis so familiar_!' It was all over in a minute. He took off his hat,and hurried on overcome with embarrassment, and I turned mechanically inthe direction of the church. It was closed, but by the gate stood aboard bearing the hours of services, and beneath them the name of theminister of the parish. I read it with a thrill. The name was `_TheRev. John Dalrymple_'!"
Mrs Garnett lay back in her chair with the contented air of a_raconteuse_ who has deftly led up to a _denouement_, and her audiencegasped in mingled surprise and curiosity.
"How _thrilling_! How weird!"
"What an extraordinary thing! Go on! Go on! And what happened next?"
Mrs Garnett chuckled contentedly.
"I met your father, married him, and lived happily ever after! As forMr Dalrymple, I never met him again nor heard his name mentioned. Thesequel is not at all exciting, but it was certainly an extraordinarycoincidence, and caused me much agitation at the time. I have timedmyself very well--my cone has just burned out. Who's turn comes next?"
There followed a somewhat lengthened pause while every one nudged anext-door neighbour, and disdained responsibility on his own account.Then Mr Vernon stepped into the breach.
"I heard a curious thing the other day. A friend of mine was takensuddenly ill on a hillside in Switzerland, was carried into a chalet andmost kindly tended by the good woman. When, at the end of severalhours, he was well enough to leave, he wished to make her a present ofmoney. She refused to take it, but said that she had a daughter inservice in England, and that it would be a real pleasure to her, if,upon his return, my friend would write to the girl telling her of hisvisit to the old home. He asked for the address, and was told, `MarySmith, care of Mr Spencer, The Towers, Chestone.' He read it, lookedthe old woman in the face and said, `_I_ am Mr Spencer! _I_ live atThe Towers, Chestone; and my children's nurse is called Mary Smith!'There! I can vouch for the absolute truth of that coincidence, and Ithink you will find it hard to beat."
"And what did he say to the nurse?" asked literal Clemence, to thedelight of her brothers and sisters, whose imaginary dialogues betweenmaster and maid filled the next few minutes with amusement.
Dan's friend hailed from Oxford, and gave a highly coloured account of apractical joke in several stages, which he had played on an irritatingacquaintance. The elder members of the party listened with awe, ifwithout approval, but Tim showed repeated signs of restlessness, and ina final outburst corrected the narrator on an all-important point.
"That's the way they had it in _Britain's Boys_!" he declared, whereuponthe Oxford man hid his head under an antimacassar, and exclaimedtragically that all was discovered! "Now it's Darsie's turn! Tell us astory, Darsie--an adventure, your own adventure when you went out inthat punt, and the mill began working--"
"Why should I tell what you know by heart already? You'd only bebored."
"Oh, but you never tell a story twice over in the same way," persistedClemence with doubtful flattery. "And Mr Leslie has never heard it.I'm sure he'd be interested. It really _was_ an adventure. Soromantic, too. Ralph Percival is _so_ good-looking!"
"I fail to see what his looks have to do with it," said Darsie in hermost Newnham manner. "Strong arms were more to the purpose, and thosehe certainly does possess."
"Strong arms--stout heart!" murmured Lavender in sentimental aside."Well, then, tell about the treasure-hunt in the Percivals' garden--andhow you--you know! Go on--that's another _real_ adventure."
"All Miss Darsie's adventures seem to have been in connection with thePercival family!" remarked the Oxford man at this point.
Darsie flushed with annoyance, and retired determinedly into her shell.She was seated almost in the centre of the circle, between her fatherand John Vernon, and the leaping light of the fire showed up her faceand figure in varying shades of colour. Now she was a rose-maiden,dress, hair, and face glowing in a warm pink hue; anon, the rose changedinto a faint metallic blue, which gave a ghostlike effect to the slimform; again, she was all white--a dazzling, un
broken white, in which thelittle oval face assumed an air of childlike fragility and pathos. Asshe sat with her hands folded on her knee, and her head resting againstthe dark cushions of her chair, more than one of the company watched herwith admiration: but Darsie was too much occupied with her own thoughtsto be conscious of their scrutiny.
As each story-teller began his narrative, she cast a momentary glance inhis direction, and then turned back to fire-gazing once more. Once ortwice she cast a curious glance towards the far corner where Dan Vernonwas seated, but he had drawn his chair so far back that nothing could bedistinguished but the white blur of shirt-front. Darsie wondered if Danwere uninterested, bored, asleep--yet as her eyes questioned thedarkness she had the strangest impression of meeting other eyes--dark,intent eyes, which stared, and stared--
Vie Vernon was telling "a _most interesting_ coincidence," her openingsentence--"It was told to me by a friend--a lawyer,"--causingsurreptitious smiles and nudges among her younger hearers. "There was agirl in his office--a typewriting girl. All the money had been lost--"
"Whose money? The lawyer's or the office's?"
"Neither! Don't be silly. The girl's father's, of course."
"You never told us that she had a father!"
"Russell, if you interrupt every minute, I won't play. Of course he'dlost it, or the girl wouldn't have been a typist. Any one would knowthat! Ed--the lawyer did sea-sort of business--what do you call it?--marine things--and the girl typed them. Years before a brother haddisappeared--"
"The lawyer's brother?"
"No! I'm sorry I began. You are so disagreeable, The _girl's_ uncle,of course, and they often wanted to find him, because he was rich, andmight have helped them now they were poor. One day, when she was typingout one of the depositions--"
"Ha!" The unusual word evoked unanimous comment. "`De-pos-itions--ifyou please'! How legal we are becoming, to be sure!"
Vie flushed, and hurried on breathlessly--
"She came across the name of John H. Rose, and she wondered if the H.meant Hesselwhaite, for that was her uncle's second name, and she lookedit up in the big document, and it _was_ him, and he was on the westcoast of South America, and they wrote to him, and he left them a lot ofmoney, and they lived happy ever after."
Polite murmurs of astonishment from the elders, unconcealed sniggeringsfrom the juniors, greeted the conclusion of this thrilling tale, andthen once more Darsie was called upon for her contribution, and thistime consented without demur.
"Very well! I've thought of a story. It's about a managing clerk whowas sent to Madrid on business for his firm. I didn't know him myself,so don't ask questions! While he was in Madrid he went to the opera onenight, and sat in a box. Just opposite was another box, in which sat abeauteous Spanish maid. He looked at her, and she looked at him. Theykept looking and looking. At last he thought that she smiled, and wavedher fan as if beckoning him to come and speak to her. So in the firstinterval the eager youth made his way along the richly carpetedcorridors; but just as he reached the door of the box it opened, and aman came out and put a letter into his hand. It was written in Spanish,which the youth did not understand; but, being filled with a frenzy ofcuriosity to know what the fair one had to say, he decided to run to hishotel, and get the manager to translate it without delay. Well, hewent; but as soon as the manager had read the note he started violently,and said in a manner of the utmost concern: `I exceedingly regret, sir,to appear inhospitable or inconsiderate, but I find it my painful dutyto ask you to leave my hotel within an hour.' The clerk protested,questioned, raged, and stormed, but all in vain. The manager refusedeven to refer to the letter; he simply insisted that he could entertainhim no longer in the hotel, and added darkly: `It would be well for theSenor to take the first train out of Spain.'
"Alarmed by this mysterious warning, the unhappy youth accordingly shookoff the dust from his feet and returned to London, where he confided hiswoes to his beloved and generous employer. The employer was a Spanishmerchant and understood the language, so he naturally offered to solvethe mystery. No sooner, however, had his eye scanned the brief lines,than a cloud shadowed _his_ expressive countenance, and he addressedhimself to the youth more in sorrow than in anger. `It grieves me tothe heart, Mr--er--_Bumpas_,' he said, `to sever our connection afteryour faithful service to the firm; but, after the perusal of this note,I have unfortunately no choice. If you will apply to the cashier hewill hand you a cheque equal to six months' salary; but I must ask youto understand that when you leave my office this morning it is for thelast time!'"
A rustle of excitement from the audience, a momentary glimpse of Dan'sface in the flickering light, testified to the interest of thisextraordinary history.
Darsie bent forward to encourage her fir-cone with a pat from the poker,and continued dramatically--
"Bewildered, broken-hearted, almost demented, the unfortunate youthbetook him to an uncle in America (all uncles seem to live in America),who received him with consideration, listened to his sad tale, and badehim be of good cheer. `By a strange coincidence' (coincidence again!)said the worthy man, `there sups with me to-night a learned professor oflanguages, resident at our local college. He, without doubt, will makeplain the mysterious contents of the fatal note!' Punctual to his hourthe professor arrived, and the harassed youth hailed with joy the end ofhis long suspense. Whatever might be the purport of the words writtenin that fatal paper, the knowledge thereof could not be worse than thefate which had dogged his footsteps ever since that tragic night when hehad first cast eyes on the baleful beauty of the Spanish maid. Yetmight it not be that once again the sight of these words would send himwandering homeless o'er the world--that the stream of his uncle'sbenevolence might be suddenly damned by a force mysterious asinexorable?
"Trembling with emotion, the young man thrust his hand into his pocketto bring forth this mystic note--"
Darsie paused dramatically.
"And--and--and then--?"
"He discovered that it was not there! In the course of his longwanderings it had unfortunately been mislaid."
The clamour of indignation which followed this _denouement_ can bebetter imagined than described but the example having been set,wonderful how many stories of the same baffling character were revivedby the different members of the company during the remainder of thefirelight _stance_. So wild and exaggerated did the narratives become,indeed, that the meeting broke up in confusion, and took refuge in thoseadmittedly uproarious Christmas games which survived from the happynursery days, when "to make as much noise as we like" seemed the climaxof enjoyment.
And so ended Christmas Day for the joint ranks of the Vernons andGarnetts.