Lady Connie | Page 3

dilapidated mirror,
which hung on the schoolroom wall.
"The photos are," said Nora decidedly. "Goodness, I wish she'd come
and get it over. I want to get back to my work--and till she comes, I
can't settle to anything."
"Well, they'll be here directly. I wonder what on earth she'll do with all
her money. Father says she may spend it, if she wants to. He's trustee,
but Uncle Risborough's letter to him said she was to have the income if
she wished--now. Only she's not to touch the capital till she's
twenty-five."

"It's a good lot, isn't it?" said Nora, walking about. "I wonder how
many people in Oxford have two thousand a year? A girl too. It's really
rather exciting."
"It won't be very nice for us--she'll be so different." Alice's tone was a
little sulky and depressed. The advent of this girl cousin, with her title,
her good looks, her money, and her unfair advantages in the way of
talking French and Italian, was only moderately pleasant to the eldest
Miss Hooper.
"What--you think she'll snuff us out?" laughed Nora. "Not she!
Oxford's not like London. People are not such snobs."
"What a silly thing to say, Nora! As if it wasn't an enormous pull
everywhere to have a handle to your name, and lots of money!"
"Well, I really think it'll matter less here than anywhere. Oxford, my
dear--or some of it--pursues 'the good and the beautiful'"--said Nora,
taking a flying leap on to the window-sill again, and beginning to poke
up some tadpoles in a jar, which stood on the window-ledge.
Alice did not think it worth while to continue the conversation. She had
little or nothing of Nora's belief in the other-worldliness of Oxford. At
this period, some thirty odd years ago, the invasion of Oxford on the
north by whole new tribes of citizens had already begun. The old days
of University exclusiveness in a ring fence were long done with; the
days of much learning and simple ways, when there were only two
carriages in Oxford that were not doctors' carriages, when the wives of
professors and tutors went out to dinner in "chairs" drawn by men, and
no person within the magic circle of the University knew anybody--to
speak of--in the town outside. The University indeed, at this later
moment, still more than held its own, socially, amid the waves of new
population that threatened to submerge it; and the occasional spectacle
of retired generals and colonels, the growing number of broughams and
victorias in the streets, or the rumours of persons with "smart" or
"county" connections to be found among the rows of new villas
spreading up the Banbury Road were still not sufficiently marked to
disturb the essential character of the old and beautiful place. But new

ways and new manners were creeping in, and the young were
sensitively aware of them, like birds that feel the signs of coming
weather.
Alice fell into a brown study. She was thinking about a recent dance
given at a house in the Parks, where some of her particular friends had
been present, and where, on the whole, she had enjoyed herself greatly.
Nothing is ever perfect, and she would have liked it better if Herbert
Pryce's sister had not--past all denying--had more partners and a greater
success than herself, and if Herbert Pryce himself had not been--just a
little--casual and inattentive. But after all they had had two or three
glorious supper dances, and he certainly would have kissed her hand,
while they were sitting out in the garden, if she had not made haste to
put it out of his reach. "You never did anything of the kind till you were
sure he did not mean to kiss it!" said conscience. "I did not give myself
away in the least!"--was vanity's angry reply. "I was perfectly
dignified."
Herbert Pryce was a young fellow and tutor--a mathematical fellow;
and therefore, Alice's father, for whom Greek was the only study worth
the brains of a rational being, could not be got to take the smallest
interest in him. But he was certainly very clever, and it was said he was
going to get a post at Cambridge--or something at the Treasury--which
would enable him to marry. Alice suddenly had a vague vision of her
own wedding; the beautiful central figure--she would certainly look
beautiful in her wedding dress!--bowing so gracefully; the bridesmaids
behind, in her favourite colours, white and pale green; and the tall man
beside her. But Herbert Pryce was not really tall, and not particularly
good-looking, though he had a rather distinguished hatchet face, with a
good forehead. Suppose Herbert and Vernon and all her other friends,
were to give up being "nice" to her as soon as Connie Bledlow
appeared? Suppose