A College Girl Part 16

"Certainly, my dear. Why not? It is quite natural that Mrs Ferriers should wish to give you some little remembrance as you were the means of restoring a valuable heirloom. It is a good stone. You must be careful not to lose it."

"Is it valuable, Aunt Maria--worth a lot of money?"

"It is a pretty ornament, my dear. Do not look a gift horse in the mouth."

It was all very well for Aunt Maria, a t.i.tled lady with a box full of jewels of her own, to take things calmly, but for a member of a poor large family to receive a ruby pendant was a petrifying experience, only to be credited by a continual opening of the box and holding of it in one's hand to gaze upon its splendours. And then the very next morning the bell rang again, and in came another parcel, another jeweller's box, and inside it a blue enamelled watch with an encircling glitter of light where a family of tiny diamonds formed a border round the edge. There was an enamel bow also to fasten it on to a dress, but Darsie fairly quaked at the thought of the responsibility of wearing so gorgeous an ornament.

"That will do for mother," she announced decidedly. "It wouldn't be _decent_ for me to flaunt about in enamel and diamonds when she has an old gold thing that is always slow. Besides, if she wears it I can watch the diamonds flash, and that is the best part of the fun. Aunt Maria, that's two! Do you suppose, should you imagine, that they'll _all_--"

Lady Hayes looked shocked, as in duty bound.

"My dear, I don't suppose anything about it. That is not our affair.

It is sufficient that these two friends have been most kind and generous, and that you ought to be a very grateful girl. Surmises as to future gifts are in the worst possible taste."

Darsie wrinkled her nose and sat in silence for several moments, moving the little watch to and fro to catch the play of light upon the stones.

Then suddenly she spoke again--

"Aunt Maria, what are your ideas with regard to _luck_?"

"I have none, my dear. I don't believe in its existence!"

"But you must, Aunt Maria. You must. It was the merest luck my seeing that hole, and thinking of feeling inside, but it seems as if it were going to have such big consequences. Just in a moment it has brought me more influential friends than most girls meet with in the whole of their lives. They are all grateful to me; they feel that I have helped them; they want to help me in return; but after all there's no credit to me, it was all done without one sc.r.a.p of thought or trouble. It seems hard to think that many people work and slave for years, and fail to gain a quarter as much as I have done by just pure luck!"

"Don't be so sweeping in your a.s.sertions, child. These are early days yet to talk about results. When you come to my age, my dear, you will look back and realise that those who go through life in the right spirit are never left to the mercy of what you call 'luck.' 'Submit thy way unto the Lord, and _He_ will direct thy path.' I am an old woman, Darsie, but I can say from my heart that goodness and mercy have followed me all the days of my life."

Darsie sat gazing thoughtfully into her aunt's face. Within the last weeks a degree of intimacy had developed between the old woman and the girl, which made it possible for the latter to speak out more openly than she would have believed possible a short month before.

"Aunt Maria," she said slowly, "I wish you would explain... You talk of goodness and mercy, but--don't be shocked!--it doesn't seem to me that you have so _much_ to be thankful for! ... You are rich, of course, but that doesn't count for much by itself, and your life must have been hard... You are delicate, and your husband died, and you have no children--no one to live with you in this big house. Now when you _are_ old you are so lonely that you are glad to have me--a girl like me--for a few weeks' visit! When I go away you will be lonely again..."

A tremor pa.s.sed over Lady Hayes's face; the thin fingers crossed and uncrossed themselves on her lap, but she smiled, a brave and patient smile. "You are right, Darsie. I have had bitter trials, nevertheless I have gained the greatest treasure that is given to any one on this earth."

"What is that, Aunt Maria?"

"Peace in my soul, child--'the peace of G.o.d, which pa.s.seth understanding,'" said the old woman solemnly.

There was silence in the room. Darsie bent her head, awed and touched by the sound of those wondrous words. A month ago, at home with her brothers and sisters, she would have scoffed at the idea of peace in connection with Great-aunt Maria, but a closer intimacy had altered her opinion. About the trifling affairs of every day Aunt Maria continued to fuss. No one could deny for a moment that she fussed; but the big demands of life found her calm, serene, prepared. On the surface the waters might dash occasionally into foam, but the deep, strong current bore steadily towards the sea!

Darsie pondered, and as though divining the course of her thoughts, Lady Hayes spoke once more.

"Perhaps that appears to you a serious statement for me to make, since there are times when I must appear a very unpeaceful person. I am apt to be unduly concerned about trifles, to my own exhaustion and that of others. I am aware of the fact, and also that to one of your impetuous disposition such a failing must be particularly trying. Nevertheless, Darsie,"--the old voice deepened impressively--"_the peace is there_!"

Slowly, thoughtfully Darsie bowed her head.

"Yes, I know. I've _felt_ it. It has made me ashamed. The human part of you may get out of hand sometimes, but you are _very_ nearly an angel, Aunt Maria. You haven't much more to learn!"

Lady Hayes shook her head, but her hand fell on Darsie's head with a tender touch, and a light shone in the tired eyes. The lonely heart was grateful for those words of encouragement.

Darsie's surmise that still more presents might arrive was justified by the delivery of three more packets--a dainty little pearl necklace from Mrs Percival, a turquoise and diamond ring (oh, the rapture of owning a real ring of one's very own!) and a combination present of a jewelled bangle from three other ladies who had benefited by the lucky find.

Thus in one short week had Darsie's jewellery risen from a total which she herself described as consisting of "a few gla.s.s beads and a gold safety-pin" to five separate articles of real beauty and value.

She was fond of spreading her treasures in a row on the table and gazing at them _en bulk_, moving her head from side to side to enjoy the flas.h.i.+ng colours of the stones, and as she did so Lady Hayes was more than surprised by a mercenary element which seemed out of keeping with the girl's natural character.

"Rubies are the most valuable stones, aren't they, Aunt Maria--more valuable than diamonds?"

"If they are of the right colour and depth, and of sufficient size."

"You said this was a good stone. It's a ripping colour. I should think this must be a valuable stone, wouldn't you?"

"I prefer not to speculate on the subject, child."

Or again--

"I should think this watch was worth lots of money. I have just counted, and there are forty diamonds, teenies, of course, but still-- And the enamel is so fine. My bracelet has five _big_ diamonds, and a whole heap of pearls; and there's the necklace, too. Should you think, Aunt Maria, that they were worth a hundred pounds put together?"

Lady Hayes laid down her knitting, and stared with stony eyes into the girl's face.

"I have told you before, Darsie, that I excessively dislike surmises as to the value of presents. I am surprised and disappointed to discover signs of an avaricious and grasping nature!"

To her surprise and dismay the only reply to this serious aspersion was a good-natured laugh.

"Goodness gracious, mercy on us!" cried Darsie audaciously. "I'm bad enough, in all conscience, but I'm not _that_! Not a grasp in me! You ask any one at home, and they'll tell you I'm quite stupidly generous.

It's not the money for the money's sake, I think of, but for what it will _do_! I've no use for jewels, Aunt Maria--shan't ever have a chance of wearing them, like Noreen and Ida. Imagine a daily governess glittering with gems! But if only--only I could turn them into money, it might fulfil the big ambition of my life and send me to Newnham, without troubling father for a penny! Can you wonder that I feel impatient with watches and chains when I think of _that_?"

"I am sorry, my dear. I did not understand. I apologise!" said Lady Hayes promptly. It was this unfailing sense of justice, combined with the dignity which never forsook her under any stress of excitement or agitation, which had been most largely instrumental in attracting the girl's admiration. From the impetuous standpoint of youth it seemed an almost inhuman pinnacle of perfection, but Darsie was quite determined that at some far-distant elderly epoch--say, in thirty years' time--she would begin practising these virtues on her own account. They seemed the only decorous accompaniment of white hair and spectacles.

She stretched out a sunburnt hand and patted the old lady's shoulder with an affectionate touch.

"All right! Don't worry. It _did_ seem greedy, and of course you couldn't guess. You see, it's particularly hard because plain Ha- Hannah Vernon, I mean--is going up, and that seems to make it worse for me. Her father is richer than ours, and he believes in higher education, so it's all settled that she is to go to Newnham, and she talks about it all the time, and pities me when she's in a good temper, and brags when she's not. And Dan would be at Cambridge, too, and Ralph Percival, and, oh dear, oh dear, we'd have such _sport_! b.a.l.l.s, and picnics, and cocoa parties, and boating in summer--no end of lovely exciting pranks!"

"Excuse me, my dear,"--Lady Hayes was frosty again, staring stonily over the rim of her spectacles--"excuse me, but would you kindly explain for what reason you are anxious to go to Cambridge? I had imagined that it was for education, now it appears that b.a.l.l.s and picnics are the attraction. Which of the two is it of which you are really thinking?"

"Oh, Aunt Maria, I'm a human girl! Of _both_!" cried Darsie, laughing.

"Education first, of course, because of the result, and all it will mean afterwards, but if you want the truth, I shouldn't be so keen if it wasn't for the fun! We know a girl who's just come down, and it sounds such a lovely life... I'd work hard; I love work, and when there is any on hand there's no peace for me till it's done; but _wouldn't_ I just play, too! It would be the time of my life. Oh, Aunt Maria, when I look at the governesses at school, and think that I'm going to be like that all my days, it _does_ seem hard that I shouldn't have just two or three years _first_ of the life I want!"

The words, the tone, both bore a touch of real pathos; nevertheless Lady Hayes smiled, as if, so far from being pained by the sad prospect, she found something amusing in the contemplation.

"It is a mistake to look too far ahead in life, but of course if you contemplate teaching, you ought to be thoroughly equipped." She was silent for a moment, gazing thoughtfully through the window. Then in a level, perfectly commonplace voice she continued: "I shall be pleased, my dear, to defray the expenses of your course at Newnham..."

The manner in which our great ambitions in life meet their realisation is always and inevitably other than we have imagined. Sometimes so many years have pa.s.sed by since the dreaming of the cherished plans, that the eager spirit is transformed into a wearied and dispirited being, to whom fulfilment brings no joy; sometimes it comes freighted with complications which rob it of half its zest; sometimes it brings no charm at all, but only bitterness and disappointment; and again--oh, often again, thank G.o.d for His mercies!--it comes at the moment of hopelessness, of renunciation, dazzling the eyes and heart with a very incredulity of joy.

Those few quiet words in an old woman's voice transformed for Darsie Garnett the whole path ahead, making what had seemed a far-away vision become a solid, tangible fact. Quietly, prosaically, without any nourish of trumpets, the great prize of life had been handed into her grasp.

She sat motionless, staring with distended eyes, while Lady Hayes continued to speak in calm, even tones.

"I should like to explain to you, my dear, that I am not as rich a woman as I appear. It was my dear husband's wish that I should continue to occupy this house for the term of my life, but after that it pa.s.ses to his relations. It is an expensive place to keep up, and leaves little margin out of the income which goes with it. I cannot save as I should have wished, and my own property is not large. When it is divided among my various nephews and nieces, there will not be much for each. I should like to have done more for your father, as he has a large family to provide for, but it is impossible. In your case, however, you have done me a kindness in spending these weeks with me when I needed companions.h.i.+p--and, I think, we are good friends! I can spare a few hundreds to give you your training _and_ your fun--and it will be a pleasure to me to do so. I will make a formal arrangement in my will so that in the case of my--so that in any case the money may be forthcoming. So, my dear, you may look upon the matter as settled, and make your arrangements accordingly."

Darsie put her hands to her head. Her cheeks were white, but around her eyes and nose an increasing pinkness of hue betrayed the inward struggle of emotion.

"I'm going to cry! I'm going to cry!" she cried. And when Lady Hayes began a protest, "Oh, Aunt Maria, don't, _don't_ be proper!" she pleaded piteously. "I can't bear it just now. Please, please let me thank you in my own way! I must howl! I _must_! I'm all seething and churning with emotion, and if I don't cry I shall burst; but oh, I _do_ love you--I adore you--I shall wors.h.i.+p you until my dying day... You'll be like a saint to me. I'll put you up on a pedestal and burn incense to you every day of my life. If you _knew_ what it meant! And I've been so mean and hateful--such a contemptible little worm! Oh, if I lived a hundred thousand years, I could never repay you for this!"