A Sweet Girl Graduate. Meade L. T.

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ Priscilla in alarm. “I did notice that everyone stared at me when I came into the hall, but I thought it was because my face was fresh, and I hoped people would get accustomed to me by-and-by.”

      “You poor dear child, there are lots of fresh faces here besides yours. You should have come down under the shelter of my wing, then it would have been all right.”

      “But what have I done? Do tell me. I’d much rather know.”

      “Well, dear, you have only come into the hall by the dons’ entrance, and you have only seated yourself at the top of the table, where the learned students who are going in for a tripos take their august meals. That is pretty good for a Fresher. Forgive me, we call the new girls Freshers for a week or two. Oh, you have done nothing wrong. Of course not, how could you know any better? Only I think it would be nice to put you up to our little rules, would it not?”

      “I should be very much obliged,” said Priscilla. “And please tell me now where I ought to sit at dinner.”

      Miss Oliphant’s merry eyes twinkled.

      “Look down this long hall,” she said. “Observe that door at the farther end – that is the students’ door; through that door you ought to have entered.”

      “Yes – well, well?”

      “What an impatient ‘Well, well.’ I shall make you quite an enthusiastic Benetite before dinner is over.”

      Priscilla blushed.

      “I am sorry I spoke too eagerly,” she said.

      “Oh, no, not a bit too eagerly.”

      “But please tell me where I ought to have seated myself.”

      “There is a table near that lower entrance, Miss – ”

      “Peel,” interposed Priscilla. “My name is Priscilla Peel.”

      “How quaint and great-grandmotherly. Quite delicious! Well, Miss Peel, by that entrance door is a table, a table rather in a draught, and consecrated to the Freshers – there the Freshers humbly partake of nourishment.”

      “I see. Then I am as far from the right place as I can be.”

      “About as far as you can be.”

      “And that is why all the girls have stared so at me.”

      “Yes, of course; but let them stare. Who minds such a trifle?”

      Priscilla sat silent for a few moments. One of the neat waiting-maids removed her plate; her almost untasted dinner lay upon it. Miss Oliphant turned to attack some roast mutton with truly British vigour.

      By-and-by Priscilla’s voice, stiff but with a break in it, fell upon her ear.

      “I think the students at St. Benet’s must be very cruel.”

      “My dear Miss Peel, the honour of the most fascinating college in England is imperilled. Unsay those words.”

      Maggie Oliphant was joking. Her voice was gay with badinage, her eyes brimful of laughter. But Priscilla, unaccustomed to light repartee or chaff in any form, replied to her with heavy and pained seriousness.

      “I think the students here are cruel,” she repeated. “How can a stranger know which is the dons’ entrance, and which is the right seat to take at table? If nobody shows her, how can a stranger know? I do think the students are cruel, and I am sorry – I am very sorry I came.”

      Chapter Three

      An Unwilling “At Home.”

      Most of the girls who sat at those dinner-tables had fringed or tousled or curled locks. Priscilla’s were brushed simply away from her broad forehead. After saying her last words, she bent her head low over her plate, and longed even for the protection of a fringe to hide her burning blushes. Her momentary courage had evaporated; she was shocked at having betrayed herself to a stranger; her brief fit of passion left her stiffer and shyer than ever. Blinding tears rushed to Priscilla’s eyes, and her terror was that they would drop on to her plate. Suppose some of those horrid girls saw her crying? Hateful thought. She would rather die than show emotion before them.

      At this moment a soft, plump little hand was slipped into hers, and the sweetest of voices said —

      “I am so sorry anything has seemed unkind to you. Believe me, we are not what you imagine. We have our fun and our prejudices, of course, but we are not what you think we are.”

      Priscilla could not help smiling, nor could she resist slightly squeezing the fingers which touched hers.

      “You are not unkind, I know,” she answered; and she ate the rest of her dinner in a comforted frame of mind.

      After dinner one of the lecturers who resided at Heath Hall, a pleasant, bright girl of two- or three-and-twenty, came and introduced herself, and presently took Priscilla with her to her own room, to talk over the line of study which the young girl proposed to take up. This conference lasted some little time, and then Priscilla, in the lecturer’s company, returned to the hall for tea.

      A great many girls kept coming in and out. Some stayed to have tea, but most helped themselves to tea and bread-and-butter, and took them away to partake of in their own private rooms.

      Maggie Oliphant and Nancy Banister presently rushed in for this purpose. Maggie, seeing Priscilla, ran up to her.

      “How are you getting on?” she asked brightly. “Oh, by-the-bye, will you cocoa with me to-night at half-past ten?”

      “I don’t know what you mean,” answered Priscilla. “But I’ll do it,” she added, her eyes brightening.

      “All right, I’ll explain the simple ceremony when you come. My room is next to yours, so you’ll have no difficulty in finding me out. I don’t expect to have anyone present except Miss Banister,” nodding her head in Nancy’s direction, “and perhaps one other girl. By-bye, I’ll see you at half-past ten.”

      Maggie turned to leave the hall, but Nancy lingered for a moment by Priscilla’s side.

      “Wouldn’t you like to take your tea up to your room?” she asked. “We most of us do it. You may, you know.”

      “I don’t think I wish to,” answered Priscilla, in an uncertain voice.

      Nancy half-turned to go, then came back.

      “You are going to unpack by-and-by, aren’t you?” she asked.

      “Oh, yes, when I get back to my room.”

      “Perhaps you ought to know beforehand; the girls will be coming to call.”

      Priscilla raised her eyes.

      “What girls?” she asked, alarm in her tone.

      “Oh, most of the students in your corridor. They always call on a Fresher the first night in her room. You need not bother yourself about them; they’ll just talk for a little while and then go away. What is the matter, Miss Peel? Maggie has told me your name, you see.”

      “What you tell me sounds so very – very formal.”

СКАЧАТЬ