Chapter Nine.
The Percivals.
It was really rather fun dressing for the visit to the Percivals on Thursday; trying to make oneself look one’s very best, and imagining their surprise at the transformation! Aunt Maria, too, seemed quite to enter into the spirit of the thing, inquired anxiously which dress, and gave special instructions that it should be ironed afresh, so that it might appear at its freshest and best.
“My woman” had evidently been instructed to take the young guest’s wardrobe under her care, since new ribbons and frilling now appeared with engaging frequency, giving quite an air to half-worn garments. Darsie in a blue muslin dress, with a white straw hat wreathed with daisies, and her golden locks floating past her waist, made a charming picture of youth and happiness as she sat in the old barouche, and when the hall was reached Aunt Maria cast a keen glance around the grounds, transparently eager to discover the young people and share in the fun of the meeting.
Ralph was nowhere to be seen, that was not to be wondered at under the circumstances, but the two girls were on duty on the tennis-lawn in front of the house, ready to come forward and welcome their guest immediately upon her arrival.
The blank gapes of bewilderment with which they witnessed the alighting of the radiant blue and gold apparition afforded keen delight both to aunt and niece. They were literally incapable of speech, and even after Aunt Maria had driven away, coughing in the most suspicious manner behind a raised hand, even then conversation was of the most jerky and spasmodic kind. It was amusing enough for a time, but for a whole afternoon it would certainly pall, and Darsie did want to enjoy herself when she had a chance. She decided that it was time to put matters on a right footing, and looked smilingly to right and left, at her embarrassed, tongue-tied companions.
“I think,” said Darsie politely, “that I owe you an explanation!”
She explained, and Noreen and Ida pealed with laughter, and danced up and down on the gravel path, and slid their hands through her arm, vowing undying friendship on the spot.
“How per-fectly killing! I do love a girl who is up to pranks. What a prank! How you must have felt when you saw us sitting there! And Lady Hayes—what did she say? Was she per-fectly furious?”
“Aunt Maria behaved like an angel, a dignified angel! I never liked her so much. How did you feel? Tell me just exactly your sentiments when you saw me walking into that room?”
“I certainly did feel upset, because we had to ask you! Mother said we must, and we asked each other what on earth should we do with you all day long. Ida did say that your eyes were pretty. She was the only one who stuck up for you at all! I thought you looked too appalling for words.”
“What did your brother say?” asked Darsie with natural feminine curiosity, whereupon Noreen answered with unabashed candour—
“He said you were ‘a rummy little frump,’ and that he would take very good care to have an engagement for to-day as many miles as possible away from home!”
“Did he, indeed!” The colour rose in Darsie’s cheeks. “Well, I’m very glad he did. I like girls best, and I thought he looked conceited and proud. My best friend has a big brother, too, but he’s not a bit like yours. Rather shaggy, but so clever and kind! He promised to write to me while I was here, just because he knew I should be dull. It’s really an honour, you know, for he is terrifically clever. Every one says he will be Prime Minister one day. He’s going to Cambridge. Your brother is, too, isn’t he? I shouldn’t think they would be at all in the same set!”
The Percival girls looked at each other and smiled.
“Poor old Ralph! Isn’t she blighting? You don’t know anything about him, you know. It’s only because he called you a frump, but never mind, he has to be back to tea to look after some work for father, and then he’ll see! If you are going to be friends with us, you mustn’t begin by disliking our brother. He may be conceited, but he is certainly not ‘shaggy,’ and he is much nicer to his sisters than most big boys. He thinks we are really nicer than other girls.”
Darsie regarded them critically.
“Well, I think you are!” she conceded graciously. “Oh, how thankful I am that there is some one young in the neighbourhood. I was beginning to feel so painfully middle-aged. Let’s sit down and talk. Tell me about yourselves. Do you go to school? Which school? Do you go in for exams? What subjects do you like best?”
Noreen laughed, and shook her head.
“We have a governess. We are going for a year to a finishing school in Paris, but mother doesn’t approve of exams, for girls. She wants us to be able to play, and sing, and draw, and speak German and French, and she says that’s enough. We don’t bother about Latin or mathematics or any of those dull old things.”
“They are not dull. They’re glorious. I revel in them. But you’re rich, of course, and won’t have to work. I shall have to earn money myself, so I want to pass all the exams. I can.”
The Percivals stared in solemn surprise. The idea was so strange it took some time to digest. All their friends were well off like themselves; really, when they came to think of it, they had never met a prospective working girl before! They regarded Darsie with a curiosity tinged with compassion.
“Do you mean it—really? Tell us about yourself? Where do you live?”
“In Birchester, Craven Street, Sandon terrace—the corner house in Sandon Terrace.”
“Craven Street. Really!” The girls were plainly shocked, but Ida rallied bravely, and said in her most courteous air: “It must be so interesting to live in a street! So much to see. And have you very interesting people living across the road?”
“No. Rather dull. Husbands and wives, and one old bachelor with a leg—lame leg, I mean. No one at all thrilling, but our friends—our best friends—live in a terrace at right angles with ours. We have great times with them. I’ll tell you about our latest craze.”
Noreen and Ida sat breathlessly listening to the history of the telegraph, till it was time to go into the house for lunch, when Darsie was introduced to Mrs Percival, a very smartly dressed lady, who looked astonishingly young to be the mother of a grown-up family. After lunch the three girls attempted tennis, but gave it up in deference to the visitor’s lack of skill, visited stables and kennels and conservatory, and were again brought face to face with the different points of view existing between the town and the country dweller.
“Do all people who live in the country go and stare at their horses and dogs every day of their lives?” demanded Darsie with an air of patient resignation, as Noreen and Ida patted, and whistled, and rubbed the noses of their four-footed friends, fed them with dainty morsels, and pointed out good points in technical terms which were as Greek in the listener’s ears. “Aunt Maria goes every single day; it’s a part of the regular programme, like knitting in the afternoon and Patience at night. I get—so bored!”
The shocked looks which the Percival sisters turned upon her seemed ludicrously out of proportion with the circumstances.
“Don’t you—don’t you love animals?”
“Certainly—in their place. But I cannot see the interest in staring in through a stable door at the same horses standing munching in the same stalls day after day. It’s no use pretending that I can,” declared Darsie obstinately. “And the dogs make such a noise, and drag at your clothes. I’m always thankful to get away. Let’s go back to the garden and look at the flowers. I could stare at flowers for ages. It seems too glorious to be true to be able to pick as many roses as you like. At home mother buys a sixpenny bunch on Saturday, and cuts the stalks every day, and puts them into fresh water to make them last as long as possible, and we have nasturtiums for the rest of the week. I love the fruit and vegetable garden, too. It’s so amusing to see how things grow! Especially,”—she laughed mischievously, showing a whole nest of baby dimples in one pink cheek, “I warn you frankly that this is a hint!—especially things you can eat!”
Noreen and Ida chuckled sympathetically.
“Come along! There is still a bed of late strawberries. We’ll take camp-stools from the summer-house, and you shall sit and feast until you are tired, and we’ll sit and watch you, and talk. We seem to have had strawberries at every meal for weeks past, and are quite tired of the sight, so you can have undisturbed possession.”
“And I,” said Darsie with a sigh, “have never in my life had enough! It will be quite an epoch to go on eating until I want to stop. That’s the worst of a large family, the dainties divide into such tiny shares!”
Ten minutes later the three girls had taken up their position in the kitchen garden in a spot which to the town-bred girl seemed ideal for comfort and beauty. The strawberry-bed ran along the base of an old brick wall on which the branches of peach-trees stretched out in the formal upward curves of great candelabra. An old apple-tree curved obligingly over the gravel path to form a protection from the sun, and it was the prettiest thing in the world to glance up through the branches with their clusters of tiny green apples, and see the patches of blue sky ahead. Darsie sat stretching out her hand to pluck one big strawberry after another, an expression of beatific contentment on her face.
“Yes—it’s scrumptious to live in the country—in summer! If it were always like this I’d want to stay for ever, but it must be dreadfully dull in winter, when everything is dead and still. I shouldn’t like it a bit.”
“No! No!” the Percival girls protested in chorus. “It’s beautiful always, and livelier than ever, for there’s the hunting. Hunting is just the most delightful sport! We hunt once a week always, and often twice—the most exciting runs. We are sorry, absolutely sorry when spring comes to stop us.”
“Oh, do you hunt!” Darsie was quite quelled by the thought of such splendour. In town it was rare even to see a girl on horseback; a hunt was a thing which you read about, but never expected to behold with your own eyes. The knowledge that her new friends actually participated in this lordly sport raised them to a pinnacle of importance. She munched strawberries in thoughtful silence for several moments before recovering enough spirit to enter another plea in favour of town.
“Well, anyway—if you don’t hunt, it must be dull. And lonely! Aren’t you scared to death walking along dark lanes without a single lamppost? I should live in terror of tramps and burglars, and never dare to stir out of the house after three o’clock.”
“No you wouldn’t, if you were accustomed to it. Our maids come home quite happily at ten o’clock at night, but if they go to a city they are nervous in the brightly lit streets. That’s curious, but it’s true. We used to leave doors and windows open all day long, and hardly trouble to lock up at night, until a few months ago when we had a scare which made us more careful. Till then we trusted every one, and every one trusted us.”
“A scare!” Darsie pricked her ears, scenting an excitement. “What scare? Do tell me! I love gruesome stories. What was it? Thieves?”
Noreen nodded solemnly.
“Yes! It’s gruesome enough. Simply horrid for us, for so many other people lost their—but I’ll tell you from the beginning. It was the night of the Hunt Ball at Rakeham, and the house was crammed with visitors. We were allowed to sit up to see them all start. They looked so lovely—the men in their pink coats, and the ladies in their very best dresses and jewels. Well, it was about half-past seven; the ladies had gone upstairs to dress about half an hour before, when suddenly there was a great noise and clamour, and some one shouted ‘Fire!’ and pealed an alarm on the gong. No one knew where it was, but you never heard such a hubbub and excitement. Doors opened all down the corridors, and the ladies rushed out in dressing-gowns and dressing-jackets, with hair half done, or streaming down their backs, shrieking and questioning, and clinging to one another, and rushing downstairs. The men were more sensible; they took it quite calmly, and just set to work to put the fire out. It was in a little room on the second floor, and the strange thing was that it hadn’t been used for months, and no one could account for there being a fire there at all. After a little time one of the men came out into the corridor, and said: ‘There’s something wrong about this—this is not the result of accident! I don’t like the look of it at all.’ Then he turned to the ladies, who were all huddled together, gasping and questioning, with their maids and the other servants in the background, and said: ‘Ladies! I advise you to go back to your rooms as quickly as possible. There is not the slightest danger, but it might be just as well to look after your jewellery!’
“You should have heard them shriek! They turned and rushed like rabbits, and the maids rushed after them, shrieking too, but that was nothing to the noise two minutes after, when they got back to their rooms and found their jewels gone! They were laid out ready to be put on, on the dressing-tables, and the alarm had been cleverly timed to give the ladies enough time to get half dressed, but not enough to have put on their jewellery. Only one out of all the party had put on her necklace. She was pleased!
“Well, they shrieked, and shrieked, and some of the men left the fire and came upstairs to the rescue. Captain Beverley was the smartest, and he just tore along the corridor to a dressing-room over the billiard-room, and there was a man letting himself drop out of the window, and scrambling over the billiard-room roof to the ground! Captain Beverley gave the alarm, and the servants rushed out to give chase. It was very dark, and they could not tell how many men there were, for they kept dodging in and out among the trees. Some people said there were only two, and some said they saw four, but only one was caught that night—an idle, loafing young fellow who had been staying at the village inn for a few weeks, pretending to be a city clerk convalescing after an illness. The worst of it was that he had only a few of the smaller things in his pockets, none of the really big, valuable pieces.”
“Goodness!” Darsie’s eyes sparkled with animation. “That was an excitement. I wish I’d been here. Go on! What happened after that?”
“Oh, my dear, the most awful evening! The visitors had all brought their very best things, as the Hunt Ball is a great occasion, and they almost all cried, and one poor lady went into hysterics. Her father had been an ambassador and had all sorts of wonderful orders and things which she had had made into brooches and pendants, and they could never be replaced, no matter how much money she spent. Dinner was the most weepy meal you can imagine, and only one or two of the sensible ones went on to the ball. The others stayed at home and moped, and mother had to stay, too. Poor dear! she had to keep calm, and comfort every one else, when she’d lost all her own pet things. There was one string of pearls which has been in our family for generations, and each new owner adds a few more pearls, so that it gets longer and longer, and more and more valuable. It would have belonged to Ralph’s wife some day. He was so funny about it, so disappointed! He kept saying: ‘Poor little girl! it is rough luck!’ We said: ‘Why pity her, when you haven’t the least idea who she is?’ He said: ‘Why not, when I know very well that I shall know some day!’”
Darsie smiled with politely concealed impatience. She was not in the least interested in Ralph’s problematical wife, but she was devoured with anxiety to hear further particulars of the exciting burglary.
“Well, well! Go on! You said they only caught one man that night. That means, I suppose—”
“Yes!” Noreen sighed tragically. “That was the saddest part of it. The next morning they found another man lying just outside the walled garden. He had scrambled up, holding on to the fruit-trees, and had then jumped down and broken his leg, and he was not a stranger, but one of our very own men—an under-gardener whom we had all liked so much. Father believed that he had been bribed and led away by the man from London, and offered to let him off if he would tell all he knew, how many thieves there had been, and give the names and descriptions of the ones who had escaped, but he wouldn’t. Nothing would make him speak. We all tried in turns, and then the Vicar came and was shut up with him for an age, but it was no use. They say ‘there’s honour among thieves,’ and it’s true. He wouldn’t give the others away, so the two were sent to prison together, and they are there still. Father says they won’t mind a few months’ imprisonment, for when they come out they will get their share of the money and be quite rich. They’ll probably sail off for America or Australia and buy land, and live in luxury ever after. It is a shame! Father and mother feel it awfully. Such a dreadful thing to happen when you ask your friends to stay!”
“Yes! it’s a comfort to have nothing to lose. Mother has one diamond ring, which she always wears above the wedding one, and there’s nothing else worth stealing in the house, except watches and silver spoons, so that Aunt Maria need fear no qualms on account of her present visitor. No one will set her house on fire on account of my jewels—a few glass beads and a gold safety-pin, all told! You see them before you now!” Darsie tossed her head and pointed towards her treasures with an air of such radiant satisfaction that Noreen and Ida dropped the effort to be polite, and pealed with delighted laughter.
“You are a funny girl! You do amuse us. It’s so nice to have a new friend. The girls near here are so deadly dull. You seem so full of spirit.”
“Too full. It runs away with me. I act first and think afterwards. Not a good principle for a working life,” pronounced Miss Darsie sententiously as she searched among the green leaves for a strawberry sufficiently large and red to suit her fastidious taste. The Percivals watched her with fascinated gaze. An hour before they would have professed the most profound pity for a girl who lived in a street, owned neither horse nor dog, and looked forward to earning her own living, but it was with something more closely resembling envy that they now regarded Darsie Garnett, weighted as she was with all these drawbacks. There was about her an air of breeziness, of adventure, which shook them out of their self-complacence. It no longer seemed the all-important thing in life to belong to a county family, attend the hunt, and look forward to a presentation at Court; they felt suddenly countrified and dull, restricted in aim and interest.
It was while Darsie was still conversing in airy, discursive fashion, and her companions listening with fascinated attention, that footsteps were heard approaching, and Ralph’s tall figure appeared at the end of the path. He was evidently taking a short cut through the grounds, and as Darsie was out of his line of vision, being planted well back among the strawberry plants, he saw only his two sisters, and advanced to meet them with cheerful unconcern.
“Hulloa! Here’s luck! Hasn’t she come?”
“Oh, yes! But it is luck all the same. Look for yourself!” cried Noreen gleefully, pointing with outstretched hand to where Darsie sat, a pale blue figure among a nest of greenery, her little, flushed, laughing face tilted upward on the long white throat, her scattered locks ashine in the sun. With the air of a queen she extended finger-tips crimson with the strawberry juice towards the newcomer, and with the air of a courtier Ralph Percival stooped to take them in his own.
For a moment they stared full into each other’s eyes, while the bewilderment on the young man’s face slowly gave place to recognition.
“Glad to see you again, Princess Goldenlocks! Let me congratulate you on the breaking of the spell. Who was the kind fairy who set you free to appear among us in your rightful guise?”
He spoke like a book; he looked tall and handsome enough to be a prince himself. Darsie forgave him on the instant for his former lack of respect, and bent upon him her most dimpling smile.
“I freed myself. I wove my own spell, and when I was tired of it I broke loose.”
Ralph looked down at her with a slow, quizzical smile.
“You had better be careful! Spells are awkward things to move about. They might alight, you know, on some other shoulders, and not be so easily shaken off!”
His eyes, his voice, added point to the words. It was the first, the very first compliment which Darsie had ever received from masculine lips, and compared with the blunt criticisms of Dan Vernon, she found it wonderfully stimulating.
“Come along, girls!” cried Ralph with a sudden return to a natural, boyish manner. “There’s a whole hour yet before tea, and we can’t sit here doing nothing. Let’s go down to the river and punt. Do you punt, Miss Garnett? I’ll teach you! You look the sort of girl to be good at sport. You’ll pick it up in no time.”
The three girls rose obediently and followed Ralph’s lead riverwards, while Noreen and Ida, gesticulating and grimacing in the background, gave the visitor to understand that a great honour had been bestowed upon her, and that she might consider herself fortunate in being the recipient of an unusual mark of attention.