CHAPTER EIGHT.
FIRST DAYS.
Darsie left home on the following Thursday, and in company with AuntMaria and "my woman" took train for Arden, in Buckinghamshire. Thejourney was a nightmare, for Lady Hayes disliked travelling, and was ina condition of nervousness, which made her acutely susceptible to thedoings of her companions. Within an hour of starting Darsie had beenadmonished not to sit facing the engine because of the draught, not tolook out of the window in case she got a cinder in her eye, not to readin case she strained her eyes, not to rub her fingers on the pane, notto cross her knees because it was unladylike, not to shout, not tomumble, not to say "What?" not to yawn without putting her finger overher mouth, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
Being called to account so frequently was an exhausting process, andDarsie felt a thrill of joy at the announcement of lunch. A meal in atrain would be a novel and exciting experience which would go fartowards making up for the dullness of the preceding hour, but alas!Aunt Maria refused with scorn to partake of food, cooked goodness knewhow, by goodness knew whom, and had supplied herself with a few Plasmonbiscuits, the which she handed round with the information that theycontained more nourishment than ounces of beefsteak. They were verydull and very dry, however, and Darsie managed to get a crumb down thewrong way, and coughed continuously for the next hour in a tickling,aggravating manner, while Aunt Maria reiterated, "Really, my dear!_Most_ unpleasant!" and seemed to consider herself personally aggrieved.
When Arden was reached the position improved, for stationmaster andporters alike flew to hover round the great lady of the neighbourhood,and Darsie sunned herself in the novel consciousness of importance.Outside the station a cart was waiting for luggage, and a large, old-fashioned barouche with two fat brown horses, and with two brown-liveried servants upon the box. The village children bobbed curtsies asthe carriage bowled through the village street, and Darsie smiledbenignly and bent her yellow head in gracious acknowledgment. As nieceand guest of the Lady of the Towers, these greetings were surely partlyintended for herself. She felt an exhilarating glow of complacence, anddetermined to describe the scene to Vie Vernon on the earliest possibleopportunity.
The Towers was a large, very ugly, stucco house, surrounded by abeautiful rolling park. Inside, the rooms were huge and square, and oneand all characterised by a depressing pitch of orderliness, which madeit almost impossible to believe that they could be used as ordinaryhuman habitations!
Darsie was escorted to a bedroom with ponderous mahogany furniture, socomplete a contrast from her own shabby, cheery little den that thesight of it added the final touch to her depression. She refreshedherself by a long splash in hot water, brushed out her tangled mane, puton her Sunday dress, and descended in state to partake of dinner, whichwas served an hour earlier than usual in consideration of thetravellers' hunger and fatigue.
Despite her weariness and nervous exhaustion, Lady Hayes had made whatappeared to Darsie's unsophisticated eyes a magnificent toilette for themeal, and she eyed the Sunday frock with a criticism which was anythingbut approving. "But it's the best I've got, except the party one, and Ican't wear that for one old lady," said Darsie to herself as shefollowed meekly behind the _moire antique_ train, and seated herself atthe end of the dining-table. Two men-servants stood at attention--two!one for each diner, solemn, immovable-looking creatures who seemed tomove on wheels and who kept their eyes glued upon every mouthful youate, ready to pounce upon your plate and nip it swiftly and noiselesslyaway. They were stricken with dumbness also, if you were to trust theevidence of your senses, but had certainly ears, and could drink inevery word you said.
For the rest, it might be soothing to one's pride to live in a bigcountry house, but it was certainly abnormally dull. The day'sprogramme never varied by a hair's breadth, and Aunt Maria, though kind,possessed the failing of all others most trying to the youthful mind._She fussed_! She fussed about clothes, she fussed about food, shefussed about draughts, she fussed about manners, deportment, speech, theway you sat down, the way you got up, the way you laughed, yawned,sneezed, crossed the room, and did your hair. From morning to night,"My dear, _don't_!" or "My dear, _do_!" rang in Darsie's ears, till shewas almost beside herself with irritation.
Honestly and laboriously she tried to practise her father's advice: toput the thought of the seaside party aside, make the most of the goodpoints of her own position, and "fight the good fight," but the effortseemed to exhaust her physically, as well as mentally, until by the endof the day she looked white and drooping, pathetically unlike hernatural glowing self. Aunt Maria noticed the change, and fussed aboutthat, too, but with an underlying tenderness that was upsetting to thegirl's strained nerves.
"You look very tired to-night, my dear! Are you not well? Is thereanything the matter?"
"Quite well, thank you. Only--lonely!" replied Darsie, with a plaintiveaccent on that last word which brought Lady Hayes's glance upon her inquick inquiry--
"Lonely! But, my dear, you haven't been a minute alone all day long."
"No," agreed Darsie meekly, and said no more, but the littlemonosyllable was more eloquent than any disclaimer. Lady Hayes flushed,and knitted her brows in thought.
"I must ask some young people to meet you. I have some nice youngfriends living about a mile away. They are visiting at present, butwill soon be home. I will write. Naturally you miss the youngsociety."
She was so kind, so considerate, that it seemed mean to feel bored andimpatient; but, oh dear, how long the days _did_ seem, how dull andmonotonous the morning drive, the afternoon needlework, the evening gameof patience or bezique.
The climax came one rainy afternoon when the ordinary two-hours drivecould not take place, and the hostess and her young guest had spent mostof the day together in the library. Now it is trying for an old lady aswell as for a young one to be deprived of the usual exercise, and ifDarsie's impatience and rebelliousness of spirit were more acute thanusual, Lady Hayes was also more nervous and exacting. In this instancethe weight of the old lady's displeasure seemed to fall upon Darsie'sunfortunate coiffure. Whatever turn the conversation might take, itreturned with relentless certainty to "Your hair, my dear! When _I_ wasyoung, young girls wore their hair neatly braided. I intensely dislikeall this purring and elaboration. You would look a different girl ifyou brushed it smoothly."
"I should," agreed Darsie coolly. "I should look a sight. _My_pompadour is the best pompadour in my class. The girls all say so.They ask me how I do it. I've taught lots of them to do their own."
"I'm sorry to hear it. Time enough when you come out to wear`pompadours,' as you call them. And your bow! Ridiculous size! If itwere neat and small--"
"They wear them twice as big in America. And in France. Sash ribbons!I would, too, if I could afford. It's the fashion, Aunt Maria. Everyone wears them big."
"Surely that is all the more reason why a sensible girl should set agood example by being neat and moderate herself! I don't approve ofhair being allowed to grow long at your age, but if it _is_ long, itought certainly to be kept in bounds. Yours is hanging all over yourshoulders at this moment. Most untidy! I am speaking for your owngood."
There was a moment's chilly silence, then Darsie asked in a tone ofextraordinary politeness--
"Just exactly _how_ would you do my hair, Aunt Maria, if you were in myplace to-day?"
Lady Hayes straightened herself briskly. "I should _brush_ it," shesaid emphatically. "It is naturally curly, no doubt, but I cannotbelieve that a good brushing would not reduce it to order! I shoulddamp it and brush it well, and then tie it back so that it would nothang loose over your shoulders like a mane. It would be pleasant to seewhat a difference it would make. A neat head is one of the things whichevery young gentlewoman should strive to possess."
Darsie folded her needlework, put it neatly away in her bag, and, risingfrom her seat, marched slowly from the room. It was nearing the hourfor tea, when she usually went upstairs to
wash and tidy-up generally,so that there was nothing unusual in her departure; it was only when shewas safe inside her room that the extraordinary nature of to-day'spreparations was revealed.
She took off the lace collar and pretty bead necklace which gave an airof lightness to her plain dark dress, wrapped a dressing-jacket roundher shoulders, and dipped her head deep into a basin of water. Thenwith a comb the _wet_ hair was parted accurately in the centre, andbrushed to the ears till it had the air of being painted rather thanreal, so smooth and plastered was the effect. The ends, plaited withmerciless tightness, were looped together with a fragment of a brokenshoelace, so tightly that from the front no sign of their presence couldbe suspected. When all was finished and the dressing-jacket thrownaside the effect was positively startling to behold. It did not seempossible to believe that this prim, demure damsel could be the samebrilliant-looking creature who had entered the room but ten minutesbefore, and Darsie herself was half-shocked, half-triumphant at thecompleteness of the transformation.
"'Spose I had a fever and lost my hair! How simply awful!" she said toherself in terror. "If they could see me at home, they'd never call mepretty again. I think even Aunt Maria will jump!"
She skipped with delight at the possibility, and the gesture seemed sosingularly out of keeping with her appearance that she laughed again,restored to good temper by the delightful experience of taking part in aprank once more.
Ten minutes later, accurately at the moment when the tea equipage wouldbe in course of arrangement in the drawing-room, Darsie composed herface into a "prunes and prism" decorum, and slipped noiselessly into theroom.
To a certain extent all was as she had expected. Mason stoodmajestically over the tea-table; James, his satellite, approached with atray of cakes and sandwiches; Aunt Maria sat waiting in her high-backedchair--so far all was just as she had planned; what she was allunprepared for, however, was the presence of three youthful visitors,two girls and a youth, who sat facing the door, staring at her instunned dismay.
The Percivals! By all that was ill-timed and embarrassing, thePercivals themselves, returned from their visit, choosing a wetafternoon to drive over and pay their respects to Lady Hayes's youngguest! Sheer horror of the situation took away Darsie's breath; shestood stock still in the middle of the floor, felt her lips gape apart,the crimson rush to her face, saw in a mental flash a vision of thecountry bumpkin she must appear--just for a moment, then Aunt Maria'svoice said, in even, equable tones--
"Ah, here she is! Darsie, these are my young friends of whom I havespoken. I am pleased that you should become acquainted. My niece,Darsie Garnett. Noreen, Ida, and Ralph Percival... Now we will havetea!"
The voice, the manner, were absolutely normal. Was it possible that shehad not _seen_? Darsie shot a quick glance at the old lady's face, metan unconcerned smile, and for the first time in the history of theiracquaintance felt a thrill of admiration. Splendid to have such self-control, to show _no_ sign of surprise or irritation! She shook handsawkwardly with the three visitors, and sat down on the nearest chair.
"So awfully pleased to meet you!" cried Noreen gushingly. She was asmart-looking girl of sixteen, with brown eyes and a deeply dimpledchin. Darsie knew exactly what she was thinking--understood that thegushing manner had been adopted to disguise dismayed disappointment inthe aspect of a possible companion. Ralph was quite old--eighteen atleast, with well-cut features, thin lips, and small grey eyes, a dandywearing a fancy waistcoat and resplendent white spats. His whole aspectbreathed a loud, "I told you so! You _would_ drag me with you. _Told_you how it would be. Lady Hayes's grand-niece! What could you expect?"Ida was bubbling over with curiosity. What a fine story she would haveto tell to the family party on her return!
Conversation would have dragged pitifully if it had not been for AuntMaria's efforts, for the visitors seemed smitten with dumbness, andbeneath the fire of their glances Darsie's embarrassment increasedrather than diminished. She had no spirit left; a succession ofmonosyllables and an occasional "Oh, really!" made up the sum of hercontributions to the conversation. It must have been a strong sense ofduty which nerved Noreen Percival to offer the invitation whichpresumably was the object of her visit.
"We want to know if you will come to lunch with us on Thursday, and stayfor the afternoon? If it's fine, we can have some tennis. We willdrive you back after tea."
Darsie hesitated, but apparently the decision was not to be left to her.Aunt Maria accepted with a gracious acknowledgment of Mrs Percival'skindness, and in answer to a scowl from Ralph his sisters rose and madea hasty adieu.
"We came in the governess cart. The pony gets restless--mustn't keephim waiting. Thank you _so_ much! Goodbye!"
They were gone; the outer door was shut behind them. Darsie, standingby the tea-table, caught a glimpse of her own reflection in a mirror atthe opposite end of the room, a stiff, Dutch-doll of a figure, withplastered hair, crimson cheeks, and plain frock. She glanced at AuntMaria reseating herself in her high-backed chair, and taking up theinevitable knitting. Now for it! now for the lecture! Well, after all,she had only done what had been suggested, a trifle _more_ perhapsthan had been suggested, but that was erring on the right side, not thewrong. Besides, if a naughty impulse to annoy and humiliate Aunt Mariahad really existed, in the end she had been a thousand times morehumiliated herself. And now, if you please, she was to be scolded andlectured into the bargain!
But Aunt Maria neither lectured nor scolded. All through that next hourwhen pride kept Darsie chained to her place, the older lady talked inher most natural manner, and even smiled at her companion across thepatience-board without a flicker of expression to betray that the figureconfronting her was in any way different from the one which she wasaccustomed to see.
Once more admiration vanquished irritation, and Darsie roused herself tojoin in the problem of "building," and ended in actually feeling adawning of interest in what had hitherto appeared the dreariest ofproblems. When seven o'clock struck, and the old lady closed the board,and said, in her natural, every-day voice, "And now we must dress fordinner!" Darsie walked slowly across the room, hesitated, and finallyretraced her steps and knelt down on a footstool by Lady Hayes' side.
"Aunt Maria--_please_! I should like to thank you!"
"Thank me, my dear. For what?"
"For--for saying nothing! For not crowing over me as you might havedone!"
The flushed, upturned face was very sweet--all the sweeter perhaps forthe plastered hair, which gave to it so quaint and old-world an air.Lady Hayes laid a wrinkled hand on the girl's shoulder; her eyestwinkled humorously through her spectacles.
"No, I won't crow, my dear! That would be ungenerous. Circumstanceshave been pretty hard on you already. This--this little exhibition wasnot intended for an audience, but for my own private edification. Itwas unfortunate that the Percivals should have chosen such a moment fortheir first call. I was sorry for your discomfiture."
"You oughtn't to have been! I _meant_ to be naughty. Oh, you'vescored--scored all the way. I apologise in dust and ashes, but please--if you will be very noble--_never_ speak of it again!"
She reached the door once more, was about to make a bolt for thestaircase, when Lady Hayes's voice called to her to return--
"Darsie?"
"Yes!"
"Come here, child!"
The thin hand was held out to meet hers, the kind old eyes lookedwonderfully soft and tender.
"I think it is only fair to tell you that ... in your own language, youhave scored also! ... Oblige me by doing your hair in your ordinaryfashion for the future!"
"Oh, Aunt Maria, you _duck_!" cried Darsie, and for the first time inher life flung her arms voluntarily around the old lady's neck and gaveher a sounding kiss.