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Forgive me, said Nancy, blushing all over her rosy face. I thought perhaps you might like to know one or two things as you are quite strange here. My name is Banister. I have a room in the same corridor, but quite at the other end. You must come and visit me, presently. Oh, has no one lit your fire? Wouldnt you like one? The evenings are turning so chilly now, and a fire in ones room gives one a home-like feeling, doesnt it? Shall I light it for you?
No, no, thank you, said Priscilla stiffly. She longed to rush at Nancy, and smother her with kisses, but she could only stand in the middle of her room, helpless and awkward, held in a terrible bondage of shyness.
Nancy drew back a step, chilled in spite of herself.
I see there are matches on the chimney-piece, she said, so you can light the fire yourself, whenever you like. The gong that will sound in a minute will be for dinner, and Miss Heath always likes us to be punctual for that meal. It does not matter about any other. Do you think you can find your way to the dining-hall? Or shall I come and fetch you?
No thank you. I I can manage.
But Ill come with pleasure if you like me to.
No, Id rather you didnt trouble, please.
Very well; if youre sure you know the way. You go down the broad stairs, then turn to the right, then to the left. Good-bye, I must rush off, or I shall be late.
Nancy shut the door behind her. She did it gently, although she did not feel gentle, for she had a distinct sensation of being irritated.
Meanwhile Priscilla, clasping her hands together behind the closed door, looked yearningly in the direction where the bright face and trim, neat girlish figure had stood. She was trembling slightly, and her eyes slowly filled with tears.
I feel sick and lonely and horrid, she said, under her breath. Talk of nerves; oh, if Aunt Raby could see me now! why, Im positively shaking, I can scarcely speak, I can scarcely think properly. What would the children say if they saw their Prissie now? And Im the girl who is to fight the world, and kill the dragon, and make a home for the nestlings. Dont I feel like it! Dont I look like it! Dont I just loathe myself! How hideously I do my hair, and what a frightful dress I have on. Oh, I wish I werent shaking so much. I know I shall get red all over at dinner. I wish I werent going to
dinner. I wish, oh, I wish I were at home again.
Crash! bang! pealed the great gong through the house. Doors were opened all along the corridor; light steps passed Priscillas room. She heard the rustle of silk, and the sweet, high tinkle of girlish laughter.
She stayed in her room till the last footsteps had died away, then in desperation made a rush for it, flew down the wide stairs in a bashful agony, and, as a matter of course, entered the spacious dining-hall by the door devoted to the dons.
A girls life at one of the womens colleges is supposed to be more or less an unfettered sort of existence; the broad rules guiding conduct are few, and little more than those which must be exercised in any well-organised family. But there is the unspoken etiquette made chiefly by the students themselves, which fills the place like an atmosphere, and which can only be transgressed at the risk of surly glances and muttered comments, and even words of derision.
No student was expected to enter the hall by the dons entrance, and for this enormity to be perpetrated by a Fresher immediately made her the cynosure of all eyes. Poor Priscilla was unconscious of any offence. She grew scarlet under the gaze of the merciless young eyes, and further added to her sins by sitting down at one of the tables at the top of the hall.
No one reproved her in words, or requested her to take a lower seat, but some rude giggles were not inaudible; and Priscilla, who would thankfully have taken her dinner in the scullery, heard hints about a certain young persons presumption, and about the cheek of those wretched Freshers, which must instantly be put down with a high hand.
Priscilla had choked over her soup, and was making poor way with the fish that followed, when suddenly a sweet, low voice addressed her.
This is your first evening at St. Benets, said the voice. I hope you will be happy. I know you will, after a little.
Priscilla turned, and met the full gaze of lovely eyes, brown like a nut, soft and deep as the thick pile of velvet, and yet with a latent flash and glow in them which gave them a red, half-wild gleam now and then. The lips that belonged to this face were slightly parted in a smile; the smile and the expression in the eyes stole straight down with a glow of delicious comfort into Priscillas heart.
Thank you, she said, in her stiff, wooden tone; but her eyes did not look stiff, and the girl began to talk again.
I believe my room is next to yours. My name is Oliphant Margaret Oliphant, but everyone calls me Maggie. That is, of course, I mean my friends do. Would you like to come into my room, and let me tell you some of the rules?