VI.
The party went to half a dozen spreads, some of which were on a scaleof public grandeur approaching that of the Gymnasium, and others ofa subdued elegance befitting the more private hospitalities in thestudents' rooms. Mrs. Pasmer was very much interested in these rooms,whose luxurious appointments testified to the advance of riches andof the taste to apply them since she used to visit students' rooms infar-off Class Days. The deep window nooks and easy-chairs upholsteredin the leather that seems sacred alike to the seats and the shelves oflibraries; the aesthetic bookcases, low and topped with bric-a-brac; theetchings and prints on the walls, which the elder Mavering went up tolook at with a mystifying air of understanding such things; the foilscrossed over the chimney, and the mantel with its pipes, and itsphotographs of theatrical celebrities tilted about over it--spoke ofconditions mostly foreign to Mrs. Pasmer's memories of Harvard. Thephotographed celebrities seemed to be chosen chiefly for their beauty,and for as much of their beauty as possible, Mrs. Pasmer perceived, withan obscure misgiving of the sort which an older generation always likesto feel concerning the younger, but with a tolerance, too, which waspersonal to herself; it was to be considered that the massive thoughtand honest amiability of Salvini's face, and the deep and spiritualizedpower of Booth's, varied the effect of these companies of posturingnymphs.
At many places she either met old friends with whom she clamoured overthe wonder of their encounter there, or was made acquainted with newpeople by the Saintsburys. She kept a mother's eye on her daughter, towhom young Mavering presented everybody within hail or reach, andwhom she could see, whenever she looked at her, a radiant centre ofadmiration. She could hear her talk sometimes, and she said to herselfthat really Alice was coming out; she had never heard her say so manygood things before; she did not know it was in her. She was veryglad then that she had let her wear that dress; it was certainlydistinguished, and the girl carried it off, to her mother's amusement,with the air of a superb lady of the period from which it dated. Shethought what a simple child Alice really was, all the time those otherchildren, the Seniors, were stealing their glances of bold or timidworship at her, and doubtless thinking her a brilliant woman of theworld. But there could be no mistake that she was a success.
Part of her triumph was of course due to Mrs. Saintsbury; whosechaperonage; Mrs. Pasmer could see, was everywhere of effect. But itwas also largely due to the vigilant politeness of young Mavering, whoseemed bent on making her have good time, and who let no chance sliphim. Mrs. Pasmer felt his kindness truly; and she did not feel it theless because she knew that there was but one thing that could, at hisfrankly selfish age, make a young fellow wish to make a girl have agood time; except for that reason he must be bending the whole soul ofegotistic youth to making some other girl have a good time. But all thesame, it gave her pause when some one to whom she was introduced spoketo her of her friends the Maverings, as if they were friends of theoldest standing instead of acquaintances of very recent accident. Shedid not think of disclaiming the intimacy, but "Really I shall die ofthese Maverings," she said to herself, "unless I find out somethingabout them pretty soon."
"I'm not going to take you to the Omicron spread, Mrs. Pasmer," saidyoung Mavering, coming up to her with such an effect of sympatheticdevotion that she had to ask herself, "Are they my friends, theMaverings?" "The Saintsburys have been there already, and it is a littletoo common." The tone of superiority gave Mrs. Pasmer courage. "They'regood fellows; and all that, but I want you to see the best. I supposeit will get back to giving the spreads all in the fellows' rooms again.It's a good deal pleasanter, don't you think?"
"Oh yes, indeed," assented Mrs. Pasmer, though she had really beenthinking the private spreads were not nearly so amusing as the largespread she had seen at the Gymnasium. She had also wondered where allMr. Mavering's relations and friends were, and the people who had socialclaims on him, that he could be giving up his Class Day in this recklessfashion to strangers. Alice would account for a good deal, but she wouldnot account for everything. Mrs. Pasmer would have been willing to takehim from others, but if he were so anomalous as to have no one to betaken from, of course it lessened his value as a trophy. These thingswent in and out of her mind, with a final resolution to get a fullexplanation from Mrs. Saintsbury, while she stood and smiled her winningassent up into the young man's handsome face.
Mrs. Saintsbury, caught sight of them, and as if suddenly reminded of aforgotten duty, rushed vividly upon him.
"Mr. Mavering, I shall not let you stay with us another minute. You mustgo to your room now and get ready. You ought to have a little rest."
He broke out in his laugh. "Do you think I want to go and lie downawhile, like a lady before a party?"
"I'm sure you'd be the stronger for it," said Mrs. Saintsbury. "But go,upon any theory. Don't you see there isn't a Senior left?"
He would not look round. "They've gone to other spreads," he said. "Butnow I'll tell you: it is pretty, near time, and if you'll take me to myroom, I'll go."
"You're a spoiled boy," said Mrs. Saintsbury.
"But I want Mrs. Pasmer to see the room of a real student--a readingman, and all that--and we'll come, to humour you."
"Well, come upon any theory," said young Mavering.
His father, and Professor Saintsbury, who had been instructed by hiswife not to lose sight of her, were at hand, and they crossed to thatold hall which keeps its favour with the students in spite of therivalry of the newer dormitories--it would be hard to say why.
Mrs. Pasmer willingly assented to its being much better, out of purecomplaisance, though the ceilings were low and the windows small, and itdid not seem to her that the Franklin stove and the aesthetic paperingand painting of young Mavering's room brought it up to the level ofthose others that she had seen. But with her habit of saying somefriendly lying thing, no matter what her impressions were, sheexclaimed; "Oh, how cosy!" and glad of the word, she went about from oneto another, asking, "Isn't this cosy?"
Mrs. Saintsbury said: "It's supposed to be the cell of a recluse; but itis cosy--yes."
"It looks as if some hermit had been using it as a store-room," said herhusband; for there were odds and ends of furniture and clothes and boxesand handbags scattered about the floor.
"I forgot all about them when I asked you," cried Mavering, laughingout his delight. "They belong to some fellows that are giving spreads intheir rooms, and I let them put them in here."
"Do you commonly let people put things in your room that they want toget rid off?" asked Mrs. Pasmer.
"Well, not when I'm expecting company."
"He couldn't refuse even then, if they pressed the matter," said Mrs.Saintsbury, lecturing upon him to her friend.
"I'm afraid you're too amiable altogether, Mr. Mavering. I'm sure youlet people impose upon you," said the other lady. "You have been lettingus impose upon you."
"Ah! now that proves you're all wrong, Mrs. Pasmer."
"It proves that you know how to say things very prettily."
"Oh, thank you. I know when I'm having a good time, and I do my best toenjoy it." He ended with the nervous laugh which seemed habitual withhim.
"He, does laugh a good deal;" thought Mrs. Pasmer, surveying him withsmiling steadiness. "I suppose it tires Alice. Some of his teeth arefilled at the sides. That vein in his forehead--they say that meansgenius." She said to him: "I hope you know when others are having a goodtime too, Mr. Mavering? You ought to have that reward."
They both looked at Alice. "Oh, I should be so happy to think you hadn'tbeen bored with it all, Mrs. Pasmer," he returned;--with-deep feeling.
Alice was looking at one of the sketches which were pretty plentifullypinned about the wall, and apparently seeing it and apparently listeningto what Professor Saintsbury was saying; but her mother believed from atremor of the ribbons on her hat that she was conscious of nothing butyoung Mavering's gaze and the sound of his voice.
"We've been delighted, simply enchanted," said Mrs. Pasmer. A
nd shethought; "Now if Alice were to turn round just as she stands, he couldsee all the best points of her face. I wonder what she really thinks ofhim? What is it you have there; Alice?" she asked aloud.
The girl turned her face over her shoulder so exactly in the way hermother wished that Mrs. Pasmer could scarcely repress a cry of joy. "Asketch of Mr. Mavering's."
"Oh, how very interesting!" said Mrs. Pasmer. "Do you sketch, Mr.Mavering? But of course." She pressed forward, and studied the sketchinattentively. "How very, very good!" she buzzed deep in her throat,while, with a glance at her daughter, she thought, "How impassive Aliceis! But she behaves with great dignity. Yes. Perhaps that's best. Andare you going to be an artist?" she asked of Mavering.
"Not if it can be prevented," he answered, laughing again.
"But his laugh is very pleasant," reflected Mrs. Pasmer. "Does Alicedislike it so much?" She repeated aloud, "If it can be prevented?"
"They think I might spoil a great lawyer in the attempt."
"Oh, I see. And are you going to be a lawyer? But to be a great painter!And America has so few of them." She knew quite well that she wastalking nonsense, but she was aware, through her own indifference tothe topic that he was not minding what she said, but was trying to bringhimself into talk with Alice again. The girl persistently listened toProfessor Saintsbury.
"Is she punishing him for something?" her mother asked herself. "Whatcan it be for. Does she think he's a little too pushing? Perhaps, he isa little pushing." She reflected, with an inward sigh, that she wouldknow whether he was if she only knew more about him.
He did the honours of his room very simply and nicely, and he saidit was pretty rough to think this was the last of it. After which hefaltered, and something occurred to Mrs Saintsbury.
"Why, we're keeping you! It's time for you to dress for the Tree.John"--she reproached her husband--"how could you let us do it?"
"Far be it from me to hurry ladies out of other people'shouses--especially ladies who have put themselves in charge of otherpeople."
"No, don't hurry," pleaded Mavering; "there's plenty of time."
"How much time?" asked Mrs. Saintsbury.
He looked at his watch. "Well, a good quarter of an hour."
"And I was to have taken Mrs. Pasmer and Alice home for a little restbefore the Tree!" cried Mrs Saintsbury. "And now we must go at once, orwe shall get no sort of places."
In the civil and satirical parley which followed, no one answeredanother, but young Mavering bore as full a part as the elder ladies, andonly his father and Alice were silent: his guests got themselves out ofhis room. They met at the threshold a young fellow, short and dark andstout, in an old tennis suit. He fell back at sight of them, and tookoff his hat to Mrs. Saintsbury.
"Why, Mr. Boardman!"
"Don't be bashful, Boardman?" young Mavering called out. "Come in andshow them how I shall look in five minutes."
Mr. Boardman took his introductions with a sort of main-forceself-possession, and then said, "You'll have to look it in less thanfive minutes now, Mavering. You're come for."
"What? Are they ready?"
"We must fly," panted Mrs. Saintsbury, without waiting for the answer,which was lost in the incoherencies of all sorts of au revoirs calledafter and called back.
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