EXAMINATION.
After the events of that night Gerald took more notice of Ruth, spoke
kindly to her, and often remarked upon her studious industry, usually to
his sister's disparagement. Although she was not very fond of Julia,
Ruth could not help feeling that this must be very galling to her, for
Julia certainly seemed more fond of Gerald than of any other person, and
she felt his sarcastic remarks very keenly.
He appeared to be keeping his promise, for he came down to breakfast in
good time and did not look so pale and languid as usual. But Ruth soon
forgot both Gerald and her promise for a time in a matter of great
importance to herself--the school examination.
She had been working steadily throughout the term, and was very anxious
to pass the examination creditably, more especially as, in addition to
the usual prizes, Miss Elgin had offered one for general improvement,
which she was very desirous of obtaining. It would, she knew, be such a
joy to her father and mother, who were expecting great things of her,
and their pride and approval would be more to her than the honour of
receiving the prize.
In English studies Ruth had made very considerable progress, and did not
much fear the result of the examination, but she was not so sure about
French. That was always her weak point, perhaps on account of the very
English fashion in which she had learnt it at Miss Green's. Still she
persevered with it, and had some hopes of success.
But when the hour of the examination came, and the papers were given
out, her courage almost failed.
There were grammatical questions, phrases to be explained, and short
sentences to be translated into French. These she understood fairly, but
the paragraph that filled her with dismay was a short French poem of
three verses to be put into English prose. She read it again and again,
but, from the idioms and inversions it contained, totally failed to
comprehend its meaning. Indeed, she could see from the significant
glances which--talking being forbidden--were exchanged between the
girls, that she was not the only one who failed to appreciate the
beauty, or even the sense of the poem.
"It's of no use," she sighed; "I must leave it and answer some
questions. If I have time afterwards, I may, perhaps, do one verse."
For a whole hour there was not a sound to be heard but the scratching of
busy pens and the rustling of papers or the tapping of idle fingers,
waiting to put down the thoughts that would not come.
Julia was writing very fast. She was more proficient in French than in
any other study. She liked it, and easily caught the sounds, and was
very proud of the fact that she had once spent a few days in Paris with
her mother. She had also profited by her friendship with a French girl,
one of Miss Elgin's boarders, who had come to the place quite unable to
speak English. Julia had taken a fancy to mademoiselle, and in
conversation with her picked up several unusual phrases, and became
familiar with many of the idioms, though her knowledge of the grammar
was still very meagre.
The poem which perplexed the other girls was less difficult to her than
the grammatical questions, and she wrote away busily translating it. She
was seated at a desk just in front of Ruth, who looked up after writing
her answers, wondering what she could do about the poem. The time
allowed for the paper was drawing to a close. Julia had finished her
translation, and was holding it in her hand, reading it over to see if
it required any correction. Her writing was large, firm, and clear, and
as she held up the paper Ruth's eye fell upon it, and, almost
unconsciously, she read the whole of her cousin's translation.
The meaning of the poem was no longer a mystery to her. She understood
it now, and could easily translate it.
Without stopping to think if it were right or wrong, she seized her pen
and wrote the words as they came to her mind. Naturally enough they were
almost identical with those she had read on her cousin's paper. But she
did not stop to think, and had scarcely finished the last word when the
clock struck, and the papers were immediately collected, Ruth's not
having been even read over.
"How many questions did you answer?" "What have you done?" "How _did_
you get on with that dreadful translation?" asked the girls of each
other when school hours were over and their tongues were once more
unloosed.
"I suppose that you have done it, Julia, you are so clever at French,"
said Ethel.
"It really wasn't difficult," replied Julia carelessly. "What have you
done, Ruth?"
"I think I answered nearly all the questions," was the reply.
"And the poem?"
"Yes, I did it."
Julia looked rather surprised, but she said nothing, though several of
the girls were loud in their exclamations of wonder that Ruth should
even have attempted it.
She listened rather impatiently to their remarks, for already she felt
ashamed of the advantage she had taken, and would gladly have seized the
paper upon which her translation was written and thrown it upon the
fire.
But it had gone out of her possession and was hers no longer.