The Girls of St. Wode's. Meade L. T.
Marjorie.
“Well, well, so far so good; but you want my advice now as to what you will do. You distinctly intend to oppose your mother and that young girl with the fashionable head?”
“I really cannot see why I and my head should be dragged into this controversy,” said Letitia. “I am not speaking; I am simply sitting and listening. May I not listen to the words of wisdom which drop from your lips?”
“You talk, Lettie, as if poor Belle was Minerva,” said Eileen. “You know whatever we do you’ll have to do; because, though you are fashionable and horribly neat and particular about your outward appearance, you love us so well that you could not live without us.”
“There is some truth in that,” said Letitia, with a sigh.
“Well, now, stop wrangling, you three,” said Belle, “and let me speak. You can go on with your quarrel when I am away; but during the few moments that I can spare from my own heavy tasks, for I have a vast deal to acquire before I return to college, I surely may be allowed to say what I have come to say?”
“So good of you to come, dear Belle,” said Eileen, patting Belle’s long, large, angular hand.
Belle snatched her hand away.
“I hate being petted and fondled,” she said; “we never do that at North Hall, it is so schoolgirlish – at least not those girls who are worth anything. In every house of residence, in every college, there are drones, poor useless creatures, who follow the busy bees; but at St. Wode’s such dangerous adjuncts to the public peace are generally rooted out. Miss Lauderdale, our adored principal, sees to that. Now, girls, if you wish to hear what the busy bees do, I will tell you.”
“I wish you would begin,” said Lettie; “you do nothing but walk round the subject and never attack it.”
“I don’t suppose it will interest you,” said Belle; “but here goes. – By the way, have either of you two” – as she spoke she turned to Eileen and Marjorie – “have either of you two ever been to St. Wode’s College, Wingfield?”
“Never,” said Eileen; “but Fay Everett, a girl at our school, has a sister there, and she sometimes describes the place to us. She said the students’ rooms were so sweetly pretty, and that each girl could exercise her own individual taste.”
“Good gracious! am I sitting here to talk of the girls who are supposed to have taste?” cried Belle. “Taste, what is taste? It is nothing but a device of the Evil One for wasting time. I am here to talk to you about the students, the real students. I, for instance, have a room. Would you like to know how my room is furnished?”
Letitia gave a perceptible shudder, and walking to the window deliberately shut it.
“What are you doing that for?” said Eileen. “It is going to be a very hot day.”
“I felt a sudden chill,” said Lettie.
“Well, do let the window remain shut; what does it matter?” cried Belle. “I have placed myself high above the mere influence of the weather. Is it hot? is it cold? I can never tell; I simply don’t know. My mind is absorbed in abstruse speculations and such trivial matters as bodily discomforts cannot touch it. Oh, girls, it is grand to allow your mind to soar! Have you, for instance, ever dipped deep into the intricacies of Virgil?”
“Never,” said Eileen.
She looked at Marjorie.
“I don’t think, after all,” she continued, “we wish to be so very learned. Our idea was to be just useful, plain sort of women. Of course we should never think of marrying; but we should like to be women who help their fellow-creatures, who are ready to take their place in a sudden emergency. We want to know a little about nursing, something too about medicine. We should not object to going through a regular course of household training; but as to learning, we don’t want to be bookworms.”
“In that case, why, in the name of Heaven, have I been asked over here?” cried Belle. “Is my precious time to be wasted?” Here she jumped up suddenly and confronted the two girls. In her agitation and anger her spectacles dropped from her nose; they fell with a crash on the floor, and one glass was broken.
“Now, what am I to do?” said Belle. “Oh, the irreparable injury you two girls have done me! One of my glasses is broken, and I, who have astigmatism in one eye, cannot get it mended in a hurry. It is cracked right across. Most fortunately I took the precaution to provide myself with another pair, or I should be lost, simply lost. Oh dear! what a wasted afternoon!”
“But can’t you tell us what you were going to say, even without seeing us very plainly?” said Eileen. “Do, Belle, sit down and be comfortable; tell us everything. We are not at all settled in our own minds as to what we will do yet. You have a room, and it is not ornamental. Well, we don’t care about ornamental rooms. This room is bare, is it not?”
“Bare! Do you call this a bare room?” cried Belle. “There are six chairs, for instance. Do you ever expect to entertain six people in the room where you work? In addition to the six ordinary chairs there is an armchair. Who wants to loll in an armchair? There is also a bench on which I am now sitting. Tell me, is a bench necessary as well as six ordinary chairs and an armchair? Are four tables required? Is that carpet essential? Does it stimulate the brain to keep the feet upon a carpet? Are those thick curtains necessary – they are only traps to collect dirt. Blinds to the windows I grant are required, or people might stare in. Oh yes, I will allow blinds; they are necessary. Now I will tell you about my room. I have asked to be put in one of the attics. The house is very full, and the vice-principal of North Hall, Miss Penrose, was quite willing to oblige me. The attic was not furnished when I got it, and I begged and implored of her to allow me to furnish it in my own way. I have therefore a camp-bed in one corner, a particularly narrow one. There is a small, hard mattress on it; The counterpane is colored; it is dark-blue, and does not require to be washed often – that is one item off the mind. The mind, my dear girls – that is, the minds of those who are students at St. Wode’s College – have such deep problems to solve that they cannot be fretted by external worries. The minds of the real students must be left free to solve problems – the intricacies of Virgil, the great masterpieces of Homer, Dante in his magnificent original – ”
Belle had now forgotten her auditors. She ceased staring at them, her glasses were useless, her eyes were dim; but nevertheless she herself was seeing visions.
Marjorie patted her on the arm.
“Go on, Belle, go on,” she said; “we will find out about Virgil and Homer and Dante presently. Now, what else have you in the room? You cannot live in a room that contains nothing but a camp-bed and a blind, and at present that is all you have admitted.”
“I have a desk, specially made for myself, in the window,” continued Belle; “there is a stool, a high stool, on which I sit. The stool has no back; I should scorn to lean back. I have a shelf on the wall which contains my books – my few books, twenty in all – standard works, mostly in the classics. Amongst them are to be found Polybius, Appian’s Civil War (Book 1.), Cicero’s Letters, Plato’s Republic, Bacon’s Novum Organum, Aristotle’s Politics, Locke On the Human Understanding, and – ”
“Good gracious!”
Lettie was the one who made this exclamation.
“Quiet, quiet, Lettie; do let her finish,” said Eileen. She kicked out her foot and gave Lettie a poke.
Letitia drew in her own neatly shod little foot and sat with her hands folded in her lap and her eyes dancing with suppressed mirth.
“I have a chair besides the one I occupy,” continued Belle. “That chair is for a friend if a friend happens to come in. There is a small deal table upon which I never allow a cloth to be put, as it is apt to come off and spill the ink – such waste of time sopping up ink. Often, in my moments of frenzy, have I jumped up suddenly and pulled the cloth with me. You don’t know what I feel at times with the greatness of the thoughts which surge through my brain. Having spilt the ink three or four times, I have discarded the cloth. A washhand-stand is of course essential, and there is a chest of