petticoat out of order? Never mind – here, this pin will set it finally right.”
“Do stop for a moment, Belle. Of course I am delighted to see you,” said Marjorie, “but I must put Daffodil back into his cage.”
She crossed the room, still holding the bird on her finger, opened the door of his cage, and let him fly in. She then shut the cage-door and came back to where her friend was standing.
“I didn’t know you wore spectacles, Belle,” she said.
“Yes, dear, my sight is bad. I have been to Wiesbaden to the celebrated oculist, and he has ordered these special glasses. I have astigmatism in one eye, and have therefore to wear special spectacles. By the way, Marjorie, you look as if you ought to be short-sighted.”
“Ought to be short-sighted?” said Marjorie. “I am not; I have excellent sight.”
“You ought to be,” repeated Belle; “it gives one a distinguished look. In all probability you will be very short-sighted when you come to college. Most scholarly girls – I see by the shape of your brow that you are meant to be scholarly – are obliged to wear spectacles.”
“When I come to college!” replied Marjorie, “and I am supposed to be a scholarly girl. Delightful! And yet I am not sure that I wish to be scholarly; but what a dear delicious creature you are, Belle! Sit down; do sit down.”
“Thanks,” said Belle. She squatted down on a wooden bench in an ungainly fashion, crossing one leg over the other.
Letitia now advanced; she had been standing near the door.
“Who is that young person?” said Belle, raising her very short-sighted eyes, and staring hard at Lettie.
“You know quite well who I am,” replied Letitia. “I am the cousin who has always lived with the twins. We are all three eighteen, and we are coming out in about a week or a fortnight.”
“We are not coming out,” said Eileen.
“Coming out!” cried Marjorie. “Now, Lettie, for goodness’ sake, don’t be silly. You know that unpleasant matter has been arranged. Perhaps you would like to go down to the drawing-room to mother and Mrs. Acheson. Eileen and I have a great deal to say to Belle.”
“No, I mean to stay and listen,” replied Lettie. “I may have a good deal to say to Belle on my own account.”
“Stay, if you wish to,” said Belle; “but I don’t suppose for a moment our conversation will interest you. You are fashionable; and that is quite enough. – Marjorie, what is it you have to say?”
“I want to ask you all about your life, dear,” said Marjorie. “Eileen and I have left school. We have come home, and mother wishes us to go into society – poor, dear little mother, the best of souls; but we are not going to allow her to order our lives.”
“Certainly not,” said Eileen, “we are going to take our lives into our own hands, and we wish to consult you about the matter, Belle. You are – where did you say?”
“At St. Wode’s College, Wingfield, the place in all England where women who wish to distinguish themselves ought to receive training.”
“Then, would you recommend us to come to St. Wode’s College?” asked Eileen.
“That I cannot say; but I will tell you about it if you like. By the way, I wish that young person – I beg her pardon – ”
“Letitia is my name,” said Lettie.
“I wish Letitia would sit so that I need not see that fashionable arrangement of her hair – it irritates me terribly. Why should people waste time in fluffing and crimping their hair. It not only ruins the hair and ages the appearance, but, what is of much more consequence, it causes the unhappy victim to commit a sin – yes, a sin. It wastes time, and oh, time is so precious! I feel this more and more the longer I live. Each precious, valuable moment has to be accounted for. The brain is master of the body. To enlarge the brain, to cultivate the – ”
“Hear! hear! This is as good as a lecture,” said Eileen. “Go on, please, Belle; you are just the same dear, odd, delightful girl you always were.”
“Whether I am delightful or not, it is very rude of you to interrupt me,” said Belle, frowning. She had no sense of humor, and could see no fun in Eileen’s remark.
“I will tell you both about the college if you really wish to learn,” she continued; “but I must not stay here long to-day, for I have too much to do. Mother mentioned that you had come back from school, and that your mother intended to take you at once into that whirlpool of frivolity which is given the name of Society; and when I heard that, I thought it was my duty to tell you both plainly what I thought on the subject.”
“But that is unnecessary, because you see we agree with you,” said 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
