Four o'clock on the morning of Examination Monday. The clock on the
wall chimed the hour, and Rhoda awoke with a start, and sat up wearily
in bed. The pale, grey light already filled the room, and the birds
clamoured tumultuously in the trees outside. Three hours before the
gong rang--the last, the very last chance of preparing for the fray!
She slipped noiselessly out of bed, sponged her face with cold water,
seized the eau-de-Cologne in one hand and a pile of books in the other,
and settled herself against a background of cushions. There was silence
in the room, broken only by fitful cries from Dorothy, who was given to
discoursing in her sleep, and more than once in the course of the first
half-hour Rhoda's own eyes glazed over, and the lids fell. Nature was
pleading for her rights, but each lapse was sternly overcome, and
presently nerves and brain were fully awake, and battling with their
task. She learned by heart passages marked as likely to be useful,
searched to and fro for answers still unknown, and worked out imaginary
calculations. One thing was no sooner begun than she recalled another
which needed attention, and so on it went from arithmetic to
Shakespeare, from Shakespeare to history, from history to Latin, back
and forward, back and forward, until her head was in a whirl.
The clock struck six, the girl in the next cubicle murmured sleepily,
"Such a noise! Something rustling!" and Rhoda held her breath in
dismay. Her haste in turning over the leaves had nearly brought about
discovery, but henceforth she moved with caution, turning from place to
place with wary fingers. Her back ached despite the supporting
cushions, and her head swam, but she struggled on until at last the roll
of the gong sounded through the house, and the girls awoke with yawns
and groans of remembrance.
"Black Monday! Oh! Oh! I wish I'd never been born!"
"Misery me, and I was having such a lovely dream, all about holidays and
picnics, and walks on the sands--"
"I've had the most awful night, doing sums all the time, with the
Examiner looking over my shoulder. My head is like a jelly!"
Then Tom's voice arose in derisive accents. Happy Tom! who was well
through her June Matric, and could afford to chaff the poor victims.
"Would any young lady like to explain to me how to find the resultant of
a system of parallel forces?"
"Tom, you are brutal! Be quiet this moment, or we'll come and make
you--"
"Ha! Ha! Ha! Rhoda, love, just give me the Substance of King
Richard's speech to Northumberland, when the latter announced that he
was to be removed to Pomfret!"
Rhoda began to reply, but stopped abruptly, for on rising from bed she
was attacked by a strange giddiness, and lay back against the pillows
trembling with cold and nausea. Her hands shook as she uncorked the
eau-de-Cologne, and the scent, so far from being reviving, made her
shudder afresh. She dressed with difficulty, sitting down at frequent
intervals, and growing colder and colder with each exertion, so that
when she emerged from her cubicle her pallid face roused Tom's instant
attention.
"Rhoda, you are ill!" she cried, her chaffing manner changing at once,
as she realised the seriousness of the occasion. "What's the matter?
Didn't you sleep? Let me feel your hand--. Goodness, what a frog! You
had better lie down, and let me send for nurse."
"No, thank you, Tom, _please_! It's only excitement. I shall be better
after breakfast. Please, please, don't make a fuss!"
"Humph!" said Tom shortly, "just as you like. If you feel yourself
going, stoop down and pretend to fasten your shoe, and give a scrub to
your cheeks before passing Miss Bruce. She'll spot you in a moment if
you go in with a face like that."
Thus adjured, Rhoda "scrubbed her cheeks" all the way downstairs, and
looked so rosy as she passed the Principal that the good lady felt much
relieved. She had had some anxious thoughts about Rhoda Chester of
late, and was only too glad to feel that her anxiety had been needless;
but, alas! three times over during breakfast did Rhoda stoop down to
button her shoe, and in vain did her companions press food upon her. A
sumptuous breakfast had been served in honour of the occasion, but ham
and eggs seemed just the last things in the world that she wanted to
eat, while the sight of fried fish took away the last remnant of
appetite. She drank her tea, trying to laugh with the rest, and to take
no notice of the swaying movement with which the walls whirled round
from time to time, or of the extraordinary distance from which the
girls' voices sounded in her ears.
"She's game! She's real game!" said Tom to herself, watching the set
face with her sharp little eyes, "but she's uncommon bad all the same.
I'll put Evie on her track!" So Miss Everett's attention was duly
called to the condition of her pupil, and Rhoda was dosed with sal-
volatile, and provided with smelling salts to keep in her pocket. Not a
word of reproach was spoken, and Evie indeed appeared to treat the
indisposition as quite an orthodox thing under the circumstances. So
affectionate was she, so kind and cheery, and so thoughtful were the
girls in giving up the best seats in omnibus and train, and in offering
supporting arms along platforms, that Rhoda felt inclined to cry with
mingled gratitude and remorse.
When the hall was reached in which the examination was to be held, she
had yet another dose of sal-volatile as a preparation for the ordeal of
the arithmetical paper, and then, gathering up pens and pencils, marched
slowly into the dreaded room. It was shaped like an amphitheatre, with
a railed-in platform at one side, and sloping seats descending all
round.
"It's like the operating theatre at a hospital! Oh my! and don't I feel
as if I were going to be cut up too!" groaned Dorothy, as she filed
along in front of a seat, looking for her place. At a distance of every
two or three yards the desks were marked with a number, in front of
which was a supply of blotting and writing paper. Some of the
candidates made out their own number at once, others went roaming
helplessly about, and Rhoda found herself perched in the furthest
corner, far from her companions. She looked across and received
Dorothy's smiling nod, but Kathleen's face was set in stern anxiety, and
the others were too busy arranging papers to remember her existence.
The Examiner, in cap and gown, stood on the platform, talking to the
lady secretary of the Centre. She made a remark, and he smiled, and
said something in reply at which they both laughed audibly. It shocked
Rhoda in much the same way as it would have done to hear a chief mourner
laugh at a funeral. Such levity was most unseemly, yet on the other
hand the pictures on the walls were surely unnecessarily depressing!
They were oil-coloured portraits of departed worthies, at that gloomy
stage of decay when frame, figure, and background have acquired the same
dirty hue, and the paint has cracked in a hundred broken lines. One old
gentleman--the ugliest of all--faced Rhoda as she sat, and stared at her
with a mocking gaze, which seemed to say:
"You think you are going to pass in arithmetic, do you? Wait until you
see the paper! _You'll_ be surprised--!"
It was a relief to turn to the paper itself and know the worst, which
seemed very bad indeed. She glanced from question to question, feeling
despair deepen at the sight of such phrases as--"Simplify the
expression"; "debenture stock at 140 1/8"; "at what rate per cent.?"
etcetera, etcetera. In the present condition of mind and body it was an
effort to recall the multiplication table, not to speak of difficult and
elaborate calculations. Poor Rhoda! She dipped her pen into the ink,
and wrote the headline to her paper, hesitated for a moment, added
"Question A," and then it seemed as if she could do no more. The
figures danced before her eyes, her knees shook, her hands were so
petrified with cold that she clasped them together to restore some
feeling of warmth, and the faintness of an hour ago seemed creeping on
once more. She leant her elbows on the desk, bowed her hands in her
head, and remained motionless for ten minutes on end. The other girls
would think that she was studying the paper, and deciding what question
she could best answer; but in reality she was fighting the hardest
battle of her life, a battle between the Flesh, which said, "Give in;
say you are too ill! Think what bliss it would be to lie down and have
nothing to do!" and the Will, which declared, "No, never! I must and
shall go on. Brain! Hands! Eyes! you are my servants. I will not
_let_ you fail!" In the end Will conquered, and Rhoda raised her face,
pale to the lips, but with determination written on every feature.
The girl next to herself had covered half the sheet with figures, and
was ruling two neat little lines, which showed that Question A was
satisfactorily settled. All over the room the girls were scribbling
away, alert and busy; there was plainly no time to be wasted, and Rhoda
began slowly to puzzle out the easiest problem. The answer seemed
inappropriate; she tried again, with a different result; a third time,
with a third result; then the firm lips set, and she began doggedly the
fourth time over. To her relief this answer was the same as number two,
so it was copied out without delay, and the next puzzle begun, and the
next, and the next.
Oh, the weariness of those two hours, the struggle against weakness, the
moments of despair when memory refused to work, and simplest facts
evaded her grasp! Nobody ever knew all that it meant, and as she had
the presence of mind to tear up her blotting-paper, no examining eyes
were shocked by the sight of the expedients to which a senior candidate
had been reduced in order to discover the total of six multiplied by
six, or eight plus eleven. There were other moments, however, when the
brain cleared and allowed a space for intelligent work. More faintness
came on again, and at the end she could announce to her companions that
she had answered nine out of the twelve questions.
"What did you get for the square root?" enquired Kathleen anxiously.
"Irene's answer was different from mine; but I _did_ think I was right.
I went over it twice!"
The girls were all surging together in the ante-room, comparing answers,
and referring eagerly to Irene, who read aloud her own list with a self-
satisfied air. Those whose numbers agreed with hers announced the fact
with whoops of joy, those who had differed knitted their brows and were
silent. Kathleen looked worried and anxious, and could not think what
she had been about to get "that decimal wrong."
"But it was horrible, wasn't it? The worst we have had."
"The wall-paper was vile," cried another voice indignantly. "_Toujours_
wall-paper! They might have a little originality, and think of
something else. I longed to give Tom's answer!"
"It wasn't really difficult, but tricky! Decidedly tricky!" said Irene,
with an air. She could afford to be superior, for there was no doubt
that she had passed! and passed well. "The square root was absurdly
easy." Then her eye fell on Rhoda, and she asked, kindly enough, "What
did you make it, Rhoda? I hope you got on all right, and feel better."
"Thanks, yes; but I didn't put down my answers. I really can't remember
what they were."
"And a good thing too! You have done your best, so don't worry over it
any more, but come along to lunch!" cried Miss Everett, cheerily; and
the girls obeyed with willing haste, for it was one of the "treats" of
examination time to lunch in a restaurant, and be allowed to order what
one chose.
Rhoda was so much revived by the walk and the joy of knowing the ordeal
over that she was able to eat a morsel of chicken, but the fascinations
of jam puffs had departed for the time being, and she could even look
unmoved at the spectacle of a dozen strawberry ices in a row.
"If every candidate indulges in an ice a day, state accurately the
number of bushels of fruit--" began Dorothy, with her mouth full of
Vanilla biscuit, but she was promptly elbowed into silence; no one being
in the mood for further calculations just then.
For the next four days the examination dragged its weary course, and
Rhoda was carefully nursed and coddled so as to be able to stand the
strain. She was sent to bed immediately on her return from the train;
was not allowed to rise until eight o'clock; was dosed with nurse's pet
tonic, and with Bovril and sandwiches between the papers, and for once
she was sufficiently conscious of past errors to acknowledge that Nature
could not be defied, and to attempt no more four o'clock preparation
classes. On the whole she got through fairly well, growing stronger
each day, and even feeling occasional bursts of exultation at the
conclusion of a paper which might have been written especially for her
benefit. What rapture to be questioned about those very rules in French
grammar which one had rubbed up the week before; to have pet passages
selected from Shakespeare, and find the Latin prose for translation
become gradually intelligible, as one telling substantive gave the clue
to the whole! Once assured of the meaning, it was easy to pick out the
words, skimming lightly over difficult phrases, but making a great show
of accuracy when opportunity arose. As to the elegance of the
translation from English into Latin the less said the better, but even
with a realisation of its shortcomings, Rhoda was hopeful of the result.
"They will say, `She doesn't know much, poor thing, but she has worked
hard, and deserves to pass. Her grammar is good, and she has mastered
the books. Oh, yes; certainly she has enough marks to pass.'"
"I think I have done fairly well in Latin," she told Miss Mott on her
return, and that severe lady actually smiled, and said graciously:
"I hope you have. You have certainly worked with a will."
Miss Bruce, however, was not nearly so encouraging, and her last
interview with her pupil was somewhat in the nature of a cold douche.
"Now that the week is over, Rhoda," she said, "I must tell you that I
have felt a good deal of anxiety on your account, which I would not
willingly have repeated. There is a strain about examinations which
some girls feel more than others. The head of your house, for instance,
Thomasina Bolderston, is a capital subject, and seems able to hit the
happy medium between working hard and over-working; but you appear to
suffer physically from the strain. I thought you seemed ill even before
the breakdown on Monday, and I fear your parents will be far from
satisfied with your looks. In the case of a girl who is preparing to
earn her livelihood, and to whom certificates are all-important, one
must take all reasonable precautions and then face the risk; but with
you it is different. You are the only daughter of wealthy parents, and
as, in all probability, you will never need to work for yourself, it
would be wiser to content yourself with taking the ordinary school
course and leaving examinations alone. I shall feel it my duty to
acquaint your mother with my opinions, and to advise--"
Rhoda gave a gasp of dismay, and stared at her with horrified eyes.
"You will forbid me to go in for any more exams.! You won't allow me to
try again?"
The Principal smiled slightly.
"That is, perhaps, over-stating the case. The final decision must, of
course, rest with your parents. If, in opposition to my advice, they
should still desire--"
But Rhoda heard no more. The idea that her father and mother should
wish her to go in for any work which interfered with health was so
impossible to conceive that it might as well be dismissed at once. With
one fell crash her castle in the air had fallen to the ground and lay in
ruins at her feet. If she had not done well this time, farewell for
ever to her dreams of distinction, for no other opportunity would be
granted!
For the first half of the holidays the thought weighed upon her with
depressing force, but gradually, as health improved, the outlook
lightened also, and she began to pose to herself in a new light. If she
passed well--and, despite her illness, she looked back on most of the
papers with a feeling of complacency--if she won the scholarship, or
even gained distinction, her reputation among her class-mates would be
to a certain extent established, and the fact that the delicate nature
of her nervous system debarred her from further efforts would entitle
her to a tribute of peculiar sympathy. When other girls succeeded,
their companions would shake their heads, and whisper among themselves,
"If Rhoda could only--"
"A good thing for her that Rhoda," etcetera, etcetera. In imagination
she could hear the remarks, and her face unconsciously assumed the
expression of meek endurance with which she would listen. And so more
and more did the result of that week's work fill the horizon of her
life; she thought of it day by day, and dreamt of it by night; she
talked of it to Ella, until even that patient listener wearied of the
theme; she counted the weeks, the days, the hours, until the report
should arrive. And then one morning, half-way through breakfast, Mr
Chester looked up from his eggs and bacon and remarked casually--as if
it were an ordinary, commonplace subject, and not an affair of life and
death:
"By the way, Rhoda, there is something about your examination in the
paper to-day. I noticed the heading. You may like to see it!"
Rhoda leant back in her chair, and held out her hand in dumb entreaty.
The newspaper was open at the right page, and her eye fell at once on
the familiar heading, and, underneath, a long list of numbers.