THE HOPE-SCOTT SHIELD
“To-day’s the first day of the holidays!”
That was Gretta’s waking thought, as she lay in her bed at home, on the
morning of the Cliff School prize-giving. To this important function she
had been specially invited by Miss Slater, who had written suggesting
that, if the doctor’s health permitted of it, she should take the
opportunity of seeing her old friends again. The letter had been
received and answered more than a week ago, but the doctor had not been
apprised of its contents. He was making such good progress, thought
Gretta, that it would be a pity to worry him with a request for the
money necessary for her ticket, and, besides, suppose he should have a
relapse while she was away! Also, she knew that if once she were to be
received back into the arms of her friends at the Cliff School, it would
be terribly difficult to settle down once more to the duties of home;
the battle would have to be fought and won all over again, and probably
would prove harder than ever.
“So I’m glad I didn’t go,” she remarked to herself in the intervals of
dressing. “And, besides, _Margot’s_ coming for the holidays!”
This certainly was enough to be happy about, and there were other
things, too. Gretta’s worries--all, of course, but the insuperable
one--were smoothing themselves out in a wonderful way. To begin with,
Mr. Courtney had proved a veritable friend in need to the doctor, and
incidentally an immense comfort to the little nurse. His constant visits
and the influence of his cheery personality had proved to be the very
tonic needed by the invalid, who was now surely, if very slowly,
regaining his health and spirits.
“So dad’s to be ‘down’ to-day, and Margot and Sybil are coming home,
too,” thought Gretta in delight. “Oh, it’ll be the most lovely day!” She
descended to the dining-room, noticed a letter lying beside her plate;
refrained from casting more than a glance in its direction until her
father’s tray was carried upstairs; then, on her return to the
breakfast-table, tore open the envelope, and for several minutes was
deep in its contents.
Five minutes later a madly excited girl, with eyes bright and shining,
cheeks pink, and lips parted, burst breathless into the doctor’s room.
“Dad! Dad! Dad!”
“Why, what’s the matter?” Her father looked surprised, to say the least
of it, at this unexpected appearance of his usually staid nurse.
“Dad! Oh, but I _can’t_ tell you. It _can’t_ be true!”
“But what is it?” The doctor began to feel vaguely anxious. “If it’s the
letter that you’re waving, let me see!”
“Oh, dad!” Gretta held fast to the envelope, unable just yet to give it
up even for a moment. “It’s from Miss Slater. How _could_ I deserve it,
really? But she says--she says----”
“Out with it,” said the doctor in a professional voice.
“It’s the Hope-Scott Shield, and it’s to be given to-day”--Gretta spoke
in gasps--“and so Miss Slater wrote to me first, because----”
“Well?” inquired the doctor patiently, while his bacon grew colder every
minute on his plate.
“Because they’re giving it to _me_!” choked Gretta, and rushed out of
the doctor’s room like a whirlwind, just in time to prevent herself
from committing the unpardonable offence of bursting into tears by her
patient’s side.
“Well, well, well!” said the doctor. He picked up the letter that had
dropped to the floor beside him, and was forced to polish his glasses
several times very carefully before he could read its contents.
Mrs. Hope-Scott had heard, Miss Slater wrote, how Gretta had cheerfully
agreed to give up her life at school in favour of her little sister, and
go back to duties at home. She would like, therefore, to offer her the
shield, in recognition of what she herself considered to be an act of
bravery, shown in everyday surroundings, perhaps, but none the less
courageous for that. “You will try to live up to the words on the
shield, I know,” wrote the head mistress; “though written of Britomart,
the maiden-knight, I should wish them to prove true of all the girls who
have been at the Cliff School.”
“But I can’t believe it yet, dad,” said Gretta later on, when, seated
beside the invalid in the drawing-room, she awaited with sparkling eyes
the coming of the travellers. “What _will_ they say? The girls at school
_can’t_ think I deserved it! Hark!” as the peal of the front-door bell
sounded through the house. “I believe they’ve come.”
But the visitor proved to be Mr. Courtney, in a state of excitement so
great about something or other that he scarcely seemed to take in
Gretta’s wonderful piece of information. “I’ve news,” he announced,
entering the room as he spoke, and addressing the doctor; “and news that
you will be uncommonly glad to hear.”
“News! More news!” Gretta held her breath. Could it be from Auntie Tib?
“A cable came to me half an hour ago.” Mr. Courtney spoke eagerly. “They
landed last week, and----”
“Well?” inquired the doctor excitedly.
“Their affairs are settled, and _well_ settled, apparently. The bad news
was a scare. Particulars, of course, I don’t know yet, but the main
point is that they will suffer no financial difficulty whatever.”
“Oh!” breathed Gretta; this seemed almost too good to be true. “Does it
mean----”
“It means a great deal, Gretta,” said the visitor, turning to her
kindly. “Freedom from anxiety for Mrs. Fleming, and--a great deal more
besides. Also, it means----”
“Yes?” said the girl wonderingly, surprised at his tone.
“The cable is in code, of course,” Mr. Courtney spoke to the doctor,
“but one thing Mrs. Fleming has made very clear, in spite of that. She
wishes Gretta, without fail, to return next term to the Cliff School.”
“Oh, dad!” Gretta was on her knees beside her father’s chair. “Oh,
_dad_!”
“Your aunt is one of the kindest of women, Gretta,” said her father
huskily.
“But, dad, I won’t go. I mean, I couldn’t leave you for anything with
Ann again. I’d rather fifty times over stay and look after you till
you’re properly well. I’ll write to auntie----”
“Listen here for a minute, Gretta,” said her father; the girl raised her
eyes to his at the tone of his voice.
“This message from your aunt is just the best thing that could have
happened for all of us,” continued the doctor; “and, if it will make
your mind easier, I’ll tell you something I never expected to be able to
tell you at all.” He paused for a minute before he continued. “Dr. Moore
thinks that a voyage is advisable for my health, and Mr. Courtney
offered to get me a berth as ship-doctor on the boat by which he sails
to Australia. I should have had no hesitation in accepting his offer but
for the fact that I had nowhere to send _you_, my dear, during my
absence. Now it seems that the way is cleared, for the _Tarrawonga_
leaves in five weeks’ time, so I shall just have time to see the three
of you back to school before I start. There are scores of arrangements
to be made, of course, but to put your mind at rest at once, I think it
wise to mention the plan in outline.” The doctor sat up energetically in
his chair as he spoke, and sniffed the air as though he were already
drinking in the ocean breezes.
Gretta gave a cry of delight. “Oh, dad,” she said, “could anything ever
have been thought of so lovely for all of us? _And_”--she gave a long
sigh--“there’s the shield as well!”
“I don’t wonder you’re talking about it,” said a cheery voice; and
Margot came in at the door with Sybil beside her. “Gretta, _why_ we
didn’t guess you’d get it I _can’t_ imagine. You should have heard the
girls clap! It’s the most ripping, _ripping_ thing that could have
happened.”
“And I’ve broken a front tooth at hockey,” said the shrill voice of
Sybil. “Miss Read said I was brave. I didn’t cry a bit--not even when it
bled. I just went on playing. Oh, well, if no one wants to look at it,
I’ll just go down and show it to Ann!”
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