CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.
NEW YEAR'S EVE.
Seated alone in the train, _en route_ for her visit to the Percivals,Darsie had time to think in a more quiet and undisturbed fashion thanhad been possible in the past bustling days, and a disagreeable feelingof apprehension arose in her mind as she recalled the wording of thethree invitations. In each was present the same note of depression, thesame hint of trouble in connection with the son of the house. Couldanything have happened of which she was unaware? No letter from TheManor had reached her for some weeks past, but letters were proverbiallyscarce at Christmas-time, so that it would be foolish to argue ill fromthat fact alone. Darsie braced herself physically and mentally, squaredher shoulders, and resolutely dismissed gloomy thoughts.
Noreen and Ralph met her at the station, looking reassuringly cheerfuland at ease a magnificent new motor stood in waiting outside, with acart for the luggage. Inside the beautiful old house the atmosphere waswarmed by hot pipes, and scented with the fragrance of hothouse plants,banked together in every corner. It was not the usual case of beingwarm and cosy inside a room, and miserably chilled every time onecrossed a passage or ascended the stairs. Mrs Percival and the girlswere marvels of elegance in Parisian gowns, Ralph looked his handsomestin knickerbocker suit and gaiters, and the servants moved noiselessly toand fro, performing their tasks with machine-like accuracy.
Extraordinary how complete a change of scene may take place betweenlunch and tea! How swiftly a new atmosphere makes the old unreal!
As Darsie sat drinking her tea in the old wainscoted hall, it seemedimpossible to realise that such things as poverty and struggle were inexistence; even the shabby bustle and squeeze of her own dear homebecame incredible in the face of this spacious, well-ordered calm!
Mrs Percival made no attempt at private conversation, and showed notrace of "ulterior motive" in manner or conversation, which was a hugerelief to Darsie's mind. She was not in a mood for seriousconversation; what she wanted was the usual Percival offering of praise,admiration, and petting, and this was bestowed upon her with even morethan the usual generosity. The grey-whiskered old Squire kissed her onboth cheeks; the girls assured her that she was prettier than ever, andgreeted her feeblest sallies with bursts of delighted laughter. Ralphgazed at her with adoring eyes; it was all, as Darsie had been wont toremark, most grateful and comforting!
The first evening passed pleasantly enough, though there was anoticeable effort on the part of each member of the family to keep theconversation from touching upon the subject of Ralph's affairs. Anyreference to Cambridge was taboo, as Darsie swiftly discovered, butthere were many points of interest left, which were both pleasant andamusing to discuss.
The next morning--the last morning of the year--broke fine and bright,and the view seen through the long windows of the dining-room was almostas beautiful as in summer itself. The park showed the same stretch ofvelvet green, a belt of evergreens and tall Scotch firs filled up thefar distance, while the leafless boughs of elms and beeches made a lace-like tracery against the sky. To the right the old cedar stood calm andunmoved, as it had stood while generations of Percivals had lived, andloved, and sorrowed, and died.
When breakfast was over--and breakfast in the country is a meal whichpursues a calm and leisurely course--the four young people strolled intothe porch to discuss the programme for the day.
"Darsie is nerving herself to look at the horses' tails!" said Idalaughingly. It was a Percival peculiarity, agreeable or irritatingaccording to the mood of the hearer, that they never by any chanceforgot a remark, but continually resurrected it in conversation foryears to come. Never a morning had Darsie spent at the Manor that shehad not been reminded of scathing comments on the habit of daily visitsto kennels and stables, as delivered by herself on the occasion of herfirst visit. To-day, however, she had only time to grimace a reply,before Ida continued cheerfully--
"You won't be asked, my dear! We have something far more important onhand. You have walked right into the jaws of the tenants' annual NewYear's treat, and will have to tire your hands decorating all themorning, and your gums smiling all the evening. It's an all-day-and-night business, and we get home at cock-crow in a state of collapse--"
"It's held in the village hall," Noreen took up the tale, slippingunconsciously into what Darsie called her "squire's-eldest-daughter-manner."
"Quite a nice building. We make it look festive with wreaths andbunting. They think so much of decorations!" ("They" in Percivalparlance alluded to the various tenants on the estate.) "We try to thinkof something novel each year as a surprise. They like surprises. We'vearranged with half a dozen girls to be there to help. Quite nice girls,daughters of the principal farmers. You must be _quite_ sweet to them,Darsie, please! It is our principal meeting of the year, and we make apoint of being friendly."
"Must I really?" Darsie assumed an expression of dejection. "What adisappointment! It's so seldom I get an opportunity of being proud andgrand. What's the good of staying at a Manor House, and driving downwith `the family,' if I have to be meek and friendly like any one else?Couldn't you introduce me as the Lady Claire, and let me put on airs fora treat? It would act as a contrast to your `friendly ways,' and makethem all the more appreciated."
The girls laughed as in duty bound, and declared that it _would_ besport, and wondered if they dared, but Ralph sharply called them toorder.
"Rot! As if everybody in this neighbourhood didn't know Darsie byheart! Put on your hats, and don't talk rubbish. It will take us allour time to get through with the hall before lunch."
Town-bred Darsie privately hoped that the motor would appear to carrythe helpers to the hall three miles away, but the Percivals themselvesnever seemed to dream of such a possibility. In short skirts and thickboots they plodded cheerfully across boggy meadows and muddy lanes,climbed half a dozen stiles, and arrived at last in the High Street ofthe little village, close to the entrance of the unpretentious woodenbuilding which called itself the Village Hall.
Darsie thought that she had never beheld an interior which seemed sothoroughly to need, and at the same time to defy, decoration!Whitewashed walls, well splashed by damp; a double row of pegs all roundthe walls at a level of some five or six feet from the ground; woodenforms, and a small square platform, made up a whole which was bare andugly to a degree.
A group of five or six girls stood beside a pile of evergreens; a youthin shirt-sleeves was in process of unpacking crumpled flags andflattened Japanese lanterns from an old tin box; two ladders stoodagainst the walls.
The entrance of "the family" was marked by a general movement among thelittle company, and Darsie watched the greetings which ensued withtwinkling amusement.
Noreen and Ida were _so_ pleasant, _so_ full of gratitude for thepresence of each individual helper, _so_ anxious to be assured that theycould _really_ spare the time. Ralph was so laboriously polite, whilethe girls themselves, pleasant, kindly, and well-educated, were eitherhappily unaware of the thinly disguised patronage, or had the goodmanners to conceal their knowledge. There was no doubt which sideappeared to best advantage in the interview!
"The first thing we must do is to decide upon a scheme of decoration,"Ida declared. "Darsie, suggest something! You have never done itbefore, so your ideas ought to be novel. What can we do to make thehall look pretty and cheerful?"
"Rebuild it!" was Darsie's instant and daring reply, whereat thefarmers' daughters laughed _en masse_, and the Percivals lookedhaughtily displeased.
"Father built it!"
"Awfully good of him! _And_ wicked of his architect. I shan't employhim to build my house!"
"I think," said Noreen loftily, "that we had better confine ourselves todiscovering the scheme of decoration. It is too late to interfere withthe structure of the hall. We generally make wreaths and fasten them tothe gas brackets, and drape the platform with flags."
"Then we may take it as settled that we _won't_ do that to-day. What
happens to the pegs?"
"They hang their things on them, of course--hats, and coats, andmufflers--"
"That _must_ be decorative! How would it be to make them leave theirwrappings at the entrance to-night, or put them under their own chairs,and to arrange a broad band of holly round the room so as to hide thepegs from view? It would be so easy to tie on the branches, and itwould have quite a fine frieze effect."
"`Mrs Dick, you are invaluable!'" quoted Ralph gaily. "It's a rippingidea. Let's set to at once, and try the effect."
No sooner said than done; the little band of workers spread themselvesover the room, and began the task of trying prickly holly branches tothe line of pegs in such fashion as to form a band about two feet deep,entirely round the room. Berries being unusually plentiful that year,the effect was all the more cheery, and with the disappearance of theutilitarian pegs the hall at once assumed an improved aspect. A secondcommittee meeting hit on the happy idea of transforming the platforminto a miniature bower, by means of green baize and miniature fir-trees,plentifully sprinkled with glittering white powder. The flags wererelegated to the entrance-hall. The Japanese lanterns, instead ofhanging on strings, were so grouped as to form a wonderfully lifelikepagoda in a corner of the hall, where--if mischievously disposed--theymight burn at their ease without endangering life or property. Theironwork of the gas-brackets was tightly swathed with red paper, and thebare jets fitted with paper shades to match. From an artistic point ofview Darsie strongly opposed the hanging of the timeworn mottoes, "AHearty Welcome to All," "A Happy New Year," and the like, but theSquire's daughters insisted that they liked to see them, and thefarmers' daughters confirming this theory, up they went, above theevergreen frieze, the white cotton letters standing out conspicuouslyfrom their turkey-red background.
It was one o'clock before the work was finished, and a tired anddistinctly grubby quartette started out on their three-mile return walkacross the fields. Certainly country-bred folk were regardless offatigue! "If I owned a motor I should _use_ it!" Darsie said toherself with a distinct air of grievance as she climbed to her own roomafter lunch, and laid herself wearily on her couch, the while thePercival trio trotted gaily forth for "just a round" over their privategolf-links.
The evening programme was to begin with a concert, alternate items ofwhich were to be given by the villagers and members of the surrounding"families."
At ten o'clock refreshments were to be served, in adjoining classrooms,and during the progress of the informal supper chairs and forms were tobe lifted away, and the room cleared for an informal dance, to beconcluded by a general joining of hands and singing of "Auld Lang Syne"as the clock struck twelve.
The Percival ladies and their guests from the surrounding houses madeelaborate toilettes for the occasion. The villagers were resplendent inSunday blacks, "best frocks" and bead chains, the small girls and boysappearing respectively in white muslins and velveteen Lord Fauntleroysuits; the Squire opened proceedings with expressions of good wishes,interspersed with nervous coughs, and Noreen and Ida led off the musicalproceedings with a lengthy classical duet, to which the audiencelistened with politely concealed boredom.
To Darsie's mind, the entire programme as supplied by "the families" wasdull to extinction, but to one possessing even her own slight knowledgeof the village, the contributions of its worthies were brimful ofinterest and surprise.
The red-faced butcher, who, on ordinary occasions, appeared to have nomind above chops and steaks, was discovered to possess a tenor voiceinfinitely superior in tone to that of his patron, the Hon. Ivor Bruce,while his wife achieved a tricky accompaniment with a minimum ofmistakes; the sandy-haired assistant at the grocer's shop supplied aflute obbligato, and the fishmonger and the young lady from thestationer's repository assured each other ardently that their true lovesowned their hearts; two school-children with corkscrew curls held aheated argument--in rhyme--on the benefits of temperance; and, mostsurprising and thrilling of all, Mr Jevons, the butler from The Manor,so far descended from his pedestal as to volunteer "a comic item" in theshape of a recitation, bearing chiefly, it would appear, on theexecution of a pig. The last remnant of stiffness vanished before thisinspiring theme, and the audience roared applause as one man, whereuponMr Jevons bashfully hid his face, and skipped--literally skipped--fromthe platform.
"Who'd have thought it! Butlers are human beings, after all!" gaspedDarsie, wiping tears of merriment from her eyes. "Ralph, do you supposeJevons will dance with me to-night? I _should_ be proud!"
"Certainly not. He has one square dance with the mater, and thatfinishes it. You must dance with me instead. It's ages since we've hada hop together--or a talk. I'm longing to have a talk, but I don't wantthe others to see us at it, or they'd think I was priming you in my owndefence, and the mater wants to have the first innings herself. We'llmanage it somehow in the interval between the dances, and I know you'llturn out trumps, as usual, Darsie, and take my part."
Ralph spoke with cheerful confidence, and Darsie listened with a sinkingheart. The merry interlude of supper was robbed of its zest, as shecudgelled her brains to imagine what she was about to hear. Ralph wasevidently in trouble of some sort, and his parents for once inclined totake a serious stand. Yet anything more gay and debonair than themanner with which the culprit handed round refreshments and waited onhis father's guests it would be impossible to imagine. Darsie watchedhim across the room, and noted that wherever he passed faces brightened.As he cracked jokes with the apple-cheeked farmers, waited assiduouslyon their buxom wives, and made pretty speeches to the girls, no onlookercould fail to be conscious of the fact that, in the estimation of thetenants, "Master Ralph" was as a young prince who could do no wrong.
For reasons of his own, Ralph was tonight bent on ingratiating himselfto the full. For the first half-hour of the dance he led out onevillage belle after another, and it was not until waltz number five hadappeared on the board that he returned to Darsie's side.
"At last I've a moment to myself! My last partner weighed a ton, atleast, and I'm fagged out. Got a scarf you can put round you if we goand sit out?"
Darsie nodded, showing a wisp of gauze, and, laying her hand on Ralph'sarm, passed with him out of the main room into the flag-decked entrance.For the moment it was empty, the dancers having made _en masse_ in thedirection of the refreshment-tables. Ralph looked quickly from side toside, and, finding himself unobserved, took a key from his pocket andopened a small door leading into the patch of garden at the back of thehall. The moonlight showed a wooden bench fitted into a recess in thewall. Ralph flicked a handkerchief over its surface, and motionedDarsie towards a seat.
"It's clean enough. I gave it a rub this morning. You won't be cold?"
"Oh, no; not a bit." Darsie wrapped the wisp of gauze round hershoulders, and prepared to risk pneumonia with as little thought asninety-nine girls out of a hundred would do in a similar case. The hourhad come when she was to be told the nature of Ralph's trouble; shewould not dream of losing the opportunity for so slight a considerationas a chill!
Ralph seated himself by her side, rested an elbow on his knees, thethumb and first finger of the uplifted hand supporting his chin. Hiseyes searched Darsie's face with anxious scrutiny.
"You didn't hear anything about me before you left Newnham?"
"Hear what? No! What was there to hear?"
Ralph averted his eyes, and looked across the patch of garden. Themoonlight shining on his face gave it an appearance of pallor andstrain.
"Dan Vernon said nothing?"
"No!" Darsie recalled Dan's keen glance of scrutiny, the silence whichhad greeted her own remarks, and realised the reason which lay behind."Dan is not the sort to repeat disagreeable gossip."
"It's not gossip this time; worse luck, it's solid, abominable fact.You'll be disappointed, Darsie. I'm sorry! I _have_ tried. Beastlybad luck being caught just at the end. I was sent down, Darsie! It wasjust at the end of the term, so they sent me
down for the last week. Aweek is neither here nor there, but the parents took it hard. I'mafraid you, too--"
Yes! Darsie "took it hard." One look at her face proved as much, andamong many contending feelings, disappointment was predominant--bitter,intense, most humiliating disappointment.
"Oh, Ralph! What for? I hoped, I thought--you _promised_ me to becareful!"
"And so I was, Darsie! Give you my word, I was. For the first half ofthe term I never got anything worse than three penny fines. It isn't adeadly thing to stay out after ten. And I was so jolly careful--neverwas so careful in my life. But just the night when it was mostimportant I must needs be caught. You can't expect a fellow to get awayfrom a big evening before twelve. But that's what it ended in--a bigjaw, throwing up all my past misdeeds, and being sent down. Now you canslang away."
But Darsie made no attempt to "slang." With every word that had beenuttered her feelings of helplessness had increased. Ralph hadapparently made little difference in his ways; he had only been morecareful not to be found out! At the very moment when she had beencongratulating herself, and boasting of the good results of herfriendship, this crowning disgrace had fallen upon him. No wonder Danhad been silent; no wonder that he had looked upon her with that long,questioning gaze! The thought of Dan was singularly comforting at thismoment--strong, silent, loyal Dan, going forth valiantly to the battleof life. Darsie's little face took on a pinched look; she shivered, anddrew the thin scarf more tightly round her. Her silence, the sufferingwritten on her face, hit Ralph more hardly than any anger; for the firsttime something deeper than embarrassment showed itself in face andvoice.
"For pity's sake, Darsie, speak! Say something! Don't sit there andlook at me like that."
"But, Ralph, what is there to say?" Darsie threw out her arms with agesture of hopelessness. "I've talked so often, been so eloquent,believed so much! If this is the outcome, what more can be said?"
"I _have_ tried! I _did_ want to please you!"
"By not being found out! It's not much comfort, Ralph, to feel thatI've encouraged you in deception. And all those nights when you stayedout late, were you betting as usual--getting into debt?"
Ralph frowned.
"I've been beastly unlucky, never knew such a persistent run. That'sthe dickens of it, Darsie. I haven't dared to tell the Governor yet,but I positively must get hold of the money before the tenth. I'm boundto pay up by then. It's a debt of honour."
Darsie's red lip curled over that word. She sat stiff and straight inher seat, not deigning a reply. Ralph appeared to struggle with himselffor several moments, before he said urgently--
"The mater is going to talk to you. She knows that you have moreinfluence with me than any one else. It's true, Darsie, whatever youmay think--I should have drifted a lot deeper but for you. When shedoes, do your best for a fellow! They'll be down on me for not havingtold about this debt. The Governor asked if there was anything else,but upon my word I hadn't the courage to own up at that moment."
Still Darsie did not reply. She was wondering drearily what she couldfind to say when the dreaded interview came about; shrinking from thethought of adding to the mother's pain, feeling a paralysing sense ofdefeat; yet, at this very moment of humiliation, a ray of lightillumined the darkness and showed the reason of her failure.
Dan was right! no one could truly help a man without first implanting inhis heart the wish to help himself! She had been content to bribeRalph, as a spoiled child is bribed to be good; had felt a glow ofgratified vanity in the knowledge that her own favour was the prize tobe won. If the foundations of her buildings were unstable, what wonderthat the edifice had fallen to the ground? The thought softened herheart towards the handsome culprit by her side, and when she spoke atlast it was in blame of herself rather than of him.
"I'm sorry, too, Ralph. I might have helped you better. I rushed inwhere angels fear to tread. I gave you a wrong motive. It should havebeen more than a question of pleasing me--more even than pleasing yourparents... Oh, Ralph, dear, you know--you know there is somethinghigher than that!--Is religion nothing to you, Ralph? Don't you feelthat in wasting your life you are offending against God--against Christ!Can't you try again with _that_ motive to help you?--I can't make lightof things to your people, but I can take part of the blame on myself.If it is true that I have any influence over you, I have thrown itaway..."
Ralph laid his hand over the gloved fingers clasped together on Darsie'sknee.
"Don't say that! Don't think that, Darsie. I may be a rotter, but I'dhave been a hundred times worse if it hadn't been for you. And don'texaggerate the position: it's a pity to do that. Every man isn't born aDan Vernon. Most fellows only reach that stage of sobriety when theyare middle-aged. It would be a pretty dull world if no one kicked overthe traces now and then in their youth. What have I done, after all?Slacked my work, helped myself to a bit more play and come down on theGovernor for an extra cheque now and again. Lots of fellows come aworse cropper than that--"
Darsie wondered if a "worse cropper" might not possibly be a lessserious ill than persistent slacking and irresponsibility; but now thatthe bad news was out, Ralph was fast regaining his composure.
"I'll turn out all right yet, Darsie, you'll see. The tenants like me.I'll settle down and make a first-rate squire when my time comes. AndI'll make up to you then for all this worry and bother." For a momenthis voice was significantly tender, then the recollection of his presentdifficulty swept over him once more, and he added hastily: "You'll--you'll break it to the mater, won't you? About that money, I mean.She'll take it best from you--"
Darsie rose from her seat, and stood before him, tall and white in themoonlight.
"No!" she said clearly. "I will not. You must make your ownconfession. Things have been made easy for you all your life, Ralph.Now you must fight for yourself."
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Ralph bore no malice; even his momentary irritation at finding himself,as he considered, "left in the lurch," lasted but a few moments afterhis return to the hall. Darsie would rather have had it last a littlelonger. To see an unclouded face, to catch the echo of merry laughterwithin ten minutes of a humiliating confession, seemed but anotherinstance of instability of character. It seemed literally impossiblefor Ralph to feel deeply on any subject for more than a few moments at atime; nevertheless, such was the charm of his personality that she feltboth pleased and flattered when twelve o'clock approached and he camesmilingly forward to lead her to her place in the great ring encirclingthe whole room. "I must have you and mother--one on either side," hesaid, and as they crossed the floor together Darsie was conscious thatevery eye in the room followed them with a smiling significance. Theyoung Squire, and the pretty young lady who was his sister's friend--anice pair they made, to be sure! Every brain was busy with dreams ofthe future, weaving romantic plans, seeing in imagination other sceneslike the present, with Darsie in the place of hostess. She knew it,divined instinctively that Ralph knew it too, felt the recognition of itin the grip of Noreen's hand, in the tender pathos of Mrs Percival'ssmile. And once again Darsie wondered, and doubted, and feared and feltthe weight of invisible chains. There are moments, however, when doubtsand fears are apt to be swept away in a rush of overwhelming emotions,and one of those is surely the beginning of a new year. To be young andpretty; to be by general acceptance the queen of the evening--no normalgirl could help being carried away by such circumstances as these! Whenthe last chime of the twelve rang slowly out, and the audience with oneaccord burst into the strains of "Auld Lang Syne," Darsie's eyes shonewith excitement, and she returned with unction the pressure of Ralph'sfingers.
"Then here's a hand, my trusty friend, And gie's a hand o' thine!"
The volume of sound swelled and sank, here and there a voice took ahusky tone; here and there an eye grew dim, but these belonged as a ruleto the patriarchs among the guests, for whom t
he past was full of tendermemories, for whom but a few more New Years could dawn. Perhaps thismight be the last, the very last, they would live to see. The youngfolks shed no tears; they were not unconscious of the prevailingemotion, but with them it found vent in a tingling expectation. Lifelay ahead. Life was to come. What would life bring?
When the song ceased, and the linked circle broke up into separategroups, Darsie, glancing up into Ralph's face, was surprised to see itwhite and tense. She smiled, half amused, half sad, bracing herself tohear some emotional protest or vow for the future; but Ralph spake noword. Instead, he led her to a seat, bowed formally before her, and,still with that white, fixed look, marched straight across the room tohis father.
Darsie's pulse quickened, her little teeth clenched on her lower lip,she pressed her hands against her knee the while she watched theeloquent scene. Father and son faced each other; handsome man, handsomeyouth, strangely alike despite the quarter of a century between theirrespective ages; the Squire's face, at first all genial welcome andunconcern, showing rapidly a pained gravity. Ralph was speakingrapidly, with an occasional eloquent gesture of the arm, obviouslyrecounting some facts of pressing importance to himself and his hearer,as obviously pleading a cause. With a thrill of excitement Darsieleaped to the true explanation of the situation. Fresh from the singingof the New Year song, Ralph had not paused to consider conventions, butthen and there had hastened to make his confession in his father's ears.
"Governor! I'm sorry! I was a coward, and wouldn't own up. I've beenplaying the fool again, and have lost more money. I owe over fiftypounds, and it has to be paid up by the tenth of this month."
The Squire looked his son full in the face.
"Is that all the truth, Ralph, or only a part?" he asked quietly. "Letme hear the whole please, now that we are about it."
"That is the whole, sir. There's nothing more to be told."
"The money shall be paid, but you must do something for me in return.We can't talk here. Come to my study when we get home!"
The Squire laid his hand on his son's shoulder with a momentary pressureas he turned aside to attend to his guests, but Ralph lopped crestfallenand discomfited. It was one thing to blurt out a disagreeableconfession on the impulse of a moment, and another and very differentone to discuss it in cold blood in the privacy of a study. In themiddle of the night, too! Ralph shivered at the thought. Why on earthcouldn't the Governor be sensible, and wait till next morning? Themoney would be paid--that was the main point--all the rest could wait.