“Quite time!” Darsie’s tone was eloquent, and she looked Ralph in the face with a quiet steadiness, at which he had the grace to blush. He had been in no hurry to claim acquaintanceship until her social success was assured; she was fully aware of the fact, but her pique died a rapid death as she looked closely into the lad’s face. Ralph at twenty-two was as handsome as in his boyhood, handsomer, indeed, but there were other changes, which the girl’s eyes were quick to read; for though we may keep silence with our tongue, the hand of Time imprints marks upon our features which are unfailing guides to our spiritual progress or decline.
For many months past Ralph Vernon had persistently allowed himself to fall short of his best, slacking in work, overstepping at play, abandoning “straightness” for a gathering mesh of deceit. Attached to his name was an unsavoury reputation of card-playing for high stakes, of drinking too much, although not to the extent of actual drunkenness; and the character had alienated from him the friendship of serious men, and evoked a disapproving aloofness in the manner of his instructors. At the moment when he most needed help those who were best fitted to give it sedulously avoided his company, and in this first moment of meeting Darsie was tempted to follow their example.
Horrid to look like that! At his age to own those lines, those reddened eyes, that dulled white skin! Up went the little head, the slender neck reared itself proudly, the red lips curled over small white teeth. Darsie intended to wither Ralph by the sight of such obvious distaste, but with the easy vanity of his nature he attributed her airs to girlish pique at his own neglect, and was correspondingly elated thereat.
The little schoolgirl who had been his sister’s friend had grown into a “stunning girl,” with whom the men were evidently greatly impressed. Ralph decided that the hour had come to claim her as an old friend and take her under his wing. He sat himself down by her side and persistently monopolised her attention.
“College life evidently suits you, Darsie. You are looking rippingly well!”
“Am I? Sorry to be unable to return the compliment!”
“Oh!” Ralph moved impatiently. “Don’t you begin that tune! It is dinned into my ears from morning till night. A fellow may swot himself into a rag, and not a word will be said, but if he oversteps an inch for his own amusement there’s the dickens to pay. I said from the start that I intended to have a good rag. College is one of the best times in a man’s life, and he’s a fool if he doesn’t make the most of his chance.”
“It is also—incidentally—supposed to be a time for mental improvement,” returned Darsie in sententious tones, which brought upon her an instant rebuke.
“Oh, for pity’s sake don’t come the Newnham swag over me! Can’t stand those girls as a rule. Avoid ’em like poison. Take my advice as an old friend and avoid that style as you would the plague. You’re too jolly pretty to come the strong-minded female. Far better stick to your old style. Men like it a heap better.”
“It is a matter of perfect indifference to me what men like!” declared Darsie, not, it is to be feared, with absolute veracity. “I am proud to be a Newnhamite, and if the girls do have a few mannerisms, they count for precious little beside their virtues. They are up to work, and they do work with might and main, though there can be no place in the world where there is no fun. We are always having some prank or other—politicals, and cocoa-parties and hockey matches, and dances—”