THE PRIZE ESSAY.
One day, towards the close of the school, great excitement prevailed in
Mrs. Elder's Select Establishment for Young Ladies, the cause being a
communication made through the lady-principal to her pupils from a
gentleman and relative of hers lately returned from India. He had
visited the school several times within the last few months, and seemed
to take an interest in it; but still there was no lack of astonishment
when Mrs. Elder announced one morning that her friend, Mr. Corbett, had
intimated his intention of awarding a special prize to the pupil who
would write the best essay on any of the three following
subjects--namely, Christmas joys, a short account of the French
Revolution, and a brief review of one of Sir Walter Scott's novels.
The babble of tongues that ensued after this intimation was wonderful.
Mrs. Elder laughingly beat a hasty retreat, and Miss Smith lay
resignedly back in her chair, and waited till peace and order were
restored.
"Of course Ada will win the prize," was the general comment, "she is so
clever, and Mr. King always praises her essays. Nellie can't come near
her in the way of composition; but we must all try to do our best, for
the honour of the school."
The elder girls, who were not included in the list of competitors, felt
inclined to second these remarks, and Ada smiled triumphantly when she
heard them whispered abroad. There was little doubt in her own mind as
to who was likely to be the successful candidate, and she only wondered
which subject would best show forth her brilliancy of style and
composition.
Winnie and Nellie, firm friends still in spite of all restraints,
consulted together, and spoke of the utter uselessness of their most
strenuous endeavours. "We've no chance against Ada," they said
disconsolately, "but like the others we'll have to attempt something."
"What will you try, Winnie?" inquired Nellie. "I think I'll tackle
'the French Revolution.'"
Winnie's brow was wrinkled in perplexity. "Do you know, Nell," she
said at length, looking up with a curious gleam in her eyes, "I never
tried very hard in all my life to write a really good essay. I just
mixed anything together and popped it down higgledy-piggledy style, as
Dick would say. Yet sometimes I have beautiful thoughts, and they run
together in such beautiful words that I think I may manage to produce a
respectable paper after all. I know nothing about the French
Revolution, simply nothing. I have never read any of Sir Walter
Scott's novels, and could not criticise or review one to save my life.
But Christmas joys--ah, yes, I might attempt that;" and Winnie looked
hopeful at this point.
"Very well, Win, we've decided," responded Nellie; then, Agnes Drummond
coming forward and addressing them, their conversation was interrupted
for the present.
Ada Irvine's triumph was by no means so complete as she fancied it
would be, though there was still much to cause her satisfaction.
Almost every day she had the pleasure of seeing Winnie grow furious and
Nellie wince under some cutting sarcasm thrown out with well-directed
aim by some of the most fashionable girls in the school, and not even
the former's reappearance and championship could allay to any extent
the open insults which beset the defenceless girl during school hours.
"Go! you are not my friends," the stanch little ally had said when she
found how matters stood on her return after her illness. "I hate and
despise every one of you from the bottom of my heart. You call
yourselves ladies, but I tell you no true lady would lower herself to
utter such words as fall from your lips. I know who your ringleader
is, and if the heartiest hatred will do her any good, she has mine.
But act as you please; only remember Nellie is now, and ever will be,
the one true friend of my life. And as for her aunts, let me tell you
you are not worthy to touch the hem of their garments."
"Oh, nonsense, Winnie!" one of the girls had replied, in a
half-condescending manner; "I am sure you can't forget your mother's
opinion on the subject."
"And who informed you about my mother's opinion? It must have been
Ada; and that throws light on what has puzzled me lately. I think I
may thank her for all this trouble I have been and am still
experiencing. No, do not try to defend her; one day we shall be quits."
"But Ada is never rude or disagreeable to you now, Win," pleaded
another girl. "There has been a marked change in her manner lately.
She is very gentle and kind to you. As for blaming her about telling
tales, that is hardly fair. She really said very little concerning
Mrs. Blake and her opinion of Nellie. Where she got her information we
do not know, but she told us decidedly it was not from your
step-mother."
Winnie looked incredulous. "That is quite sufficient," she replied
with dignity; "I would rather hear no more. But you may tell Ada from
me that I am not to be deceived by her new tactics, and have no desire
to possess such a treasure as a serpent-friend."
The subject had then been dropped, and from that time Winnie would have
nothing to do with any girl who uttered a single word against her
friend. Ada she treated with supreme indifference, and disdained to
accept a proffered friendship vouchsafed to suit that young lady's
amiable plans. As regarded Nellie, she never walked with her after
school hours, or sought her society so frequently as she had done in
the happy bygone days (Miss Latimer had strictly forbidden that); but
still the love betwixt the two was warm and true, and Ada felt her
hatred deepen as she saw how all her endeavours failed to break the
strong bond of friendship binding the one to the other. A certain
circumstance, however, caused her immense satisfaction--namely, Mrs.
Elder's growing dislike of Nellie Latimer. The lady-principal was,
unfortunately, guilty of favouritism, and ever since Ada had been
placed under her charge she had shown a marked preference for and
indulgence towards her. Such being the case, one can readily imagine
how a woman of such a weak, selfish nature would resent the quiet
dethronement of her young favourite, and see the honours she had been
accustomed to take now won by an insignificant girl of no particular
birth or station in society. Ada, not slow to find all this out,
viewed it with supreme delight, and was careful to fan the flame by
various hints and insinuations thrown out with becoming modesty.
Nellie marked the change, but bore it uncomplainingly, striving to live
it down and let the discipline accomplish its own sharp yet beneficial
work. "I shall withdraw you from the school should you choose,
Nellie," Miss Latimer had said once when the girl broke down and wept
over the heavy burden laid upon her. "But I would like you to fight it
out, and grow better, braver, and nobler under the conflict." That was
sufficient for Nellie, who, meekly relifting the old cross, strove to
carry it cheerfully, feeling amply rewarded for her quiet endurance
when she daily realized the rare love and tenderness that surrounded
her in the peaceful home at Broomhill Road.
The examination day was fast approaching, and the prize essays, which
had to be given in a week beforehand, were delivered over to the
lady-principal's charge--neat rolls of paper prettily tied up with
gaily-coloured knots of ribbon. Then followed more excitement, till
the hour arrived when guests and pupils met together in the large
school-room, and the usual performance took place before the eyes of
smiling mothers and friends. At length it was over, and the clergyman
stepping forward to award the prizes, Winnie found some leisure to gaze
around and scan the sea of faces in front of her.
There was Mrs. Drummond, calm and placid as usual; her own step-mother
and Edith, both looking so fresh and fair in their bright summer
attire, and--but here Winnie caught a glimpse of a noble, true face
looking at her from under the brim of a quiet Quaker bonnet, and in a
moment her little face was all aglow with a great throb of love.
What occurred after that seemed a blank. She never heard Nellie's name
called repeatedly, or noted Mrs. Blake's haughty look as the young girl
modestly received her prizes and blushed under the words of
commendation uttered by the clergyman. Her thoughts were far away in
the past, and she was living those two happy days over again at Dingle
Cottage, when the world appeared so wondrously fair, and life full of
bright laughing sunshine.
But now came a pause in the proceedings. The prizes were all
distributed, and pupils and friends wakened to a state of great
expectancy as old Mr. Corbett stood up by the minister's side and
nervously prepared to make his oration. After a few preliminary
remarks customary on the occasion, he spoke of the surprise and
pleasure he had experienced in reading over the essays delivered to him
by Mrs. Elder, his old and esteemed friend. They displayed much talent
and brilliancy of style, and reflected great credit on the school. One
especially amazed him (here Ada's head drooped modestly) by the rich,
beautiful thoughts, set, as it were, in such quaint, original language.
He was almost startled by the amount of genius shining forth from every
sentence; and although the essay was written in a crude girlish style,
it was worthy of the highest commendation, and he had great pleasure in
awarding the prize to--Miss Winnifred Blake.
There was a long silence, followed by murmurs of amazement and
congratulation. But Winnie did not seem to hear them; she only sat
gazing dreamily, with dim, dazed eyes, as if hardly capable of
realizing the good fortune which had befallen her.
"Rise, dear," whispered Elsie Drummond, who was standing close by;
"every one is waiting to see you receive the prize. We are all so glad
over your success. Now go;" and she gave the child a gentle push in
the clergyman's direction. The words wakened Winnie, and then, with a
great flash, came the realization that she, and not Nellie, had
triumphed over Ada; and as the knowledge came home with full power to
her heart, her great eyes sparkled their mischievous joy, and she
stepped forward, a glad, triumphant gleam shining in their depths.
Few of the onlookers that day ever forgot the scene before them: the
little fairy figure clad in daintiest summer attire; the flushed gipsy
face and dark, lustrous eyes peeping from under the mass of curly hair;
and the wondrously joyous smile which broke over her lips as she bent
her pretty head on receiving the glittering medal from the minister's
hand. I think Mrs. Blake was proud of her step-daughter for once in
her life.
A short time afterwards, just as she was preparing to start homeward,
Winnie remembered that her music was lying in one of the school-rooms,
and bidding some of the girls wait her return she bounded up the steep
flight of stairs to go in search of it.
On reaching the top step, however, Ada met her, and the pale, angry
face and haughty mien roused every malicious feeling in Winnie's
nature. Looking up with a face in which wicked triumph and delight
were plainly depicted, she said sweetly, "O Ada, would you care to
inspect my medal? You have been so kind to me lately I am sure you
will rejoice at my wonderful success."
Ada returned her gaze with one of steady, contemptuous disdain, and
dropping the mask of friendship which had been so hard for her to wear,
she replied haughtily, "Wonderful indeed! so wonderful, in fact, that I
may be pardoned for refusing to credit the essay as being your own
composition. Do you think it is natural for a dunce (I repeat the
word), who has been in the habit of writing the most childish nonsense,
to break on the world suddenly as a genius, and startle every one with
her wonderful thoughts? It stands to reason that some underhand work
has been going on; and such being the case, I prefer to hold myself
aloof from one who could be guilty of any mean, despicable action."
Strong language to use. Winnie's anger rose to a white heat as she
listened. "Explain yourself!" cried the enraged child; "I fail to
understand your words."
Ada's lip curled. "You are an admirable actress," she said calmly;
"you would make your fortune on the stage. Unfortunately, however, I
am not easily deceived. You know perfectly well the prize essay is no
work of yours."
"Whose then?" in a voice of suppressed passion; and the quiet, mocking
tones answered,--
"Suspicions are easily roused, and when one can disobey a parent once,
one can easily do so again."
Winnie looked bewildered. "You are speaking in riddles," she cried
angrily; "I demand a proper explanation."
"Then you shall have it," replied Ada, spitefully enjoying her
momentary triumph. "Mrs. Elder, Miss Smith, and ever so many of the
girls believe that your wonderful Miss Latimer assisted with your
essay. Nay, do not interrupt: we give you credit for the bare outline,
but the originality and quaint rich thoughts are decidedly beyond the
powers of a dunce."
Winnie listened in amazement, and as the last words fell slowly from
the lips of the cold, haughty girl, she cried out in her bitter anger,--
"It is false! false! and you know that too; but, Ada Irvine, I can
almost excuse your insulting words. It must be humiliating to see a
dunce, and one towards whom you bear so much affection, win a prize of
which you deemed yourself secure. I forgive you when I think how hard
it must be to feel yourself the laughing-stock of the school; and I
would remind you in the future to value your talents at their true
worth."
Winnie paused, and it seemed, to use a common-place phrase, as if the
tables were turned; for the little girl looked cool and calm now, while
her adversary's face was white and set with passion. Springing forward
she raised her hand, and Winnie, in order to avert the blow, stepped
back, forgetful of her dangerous position. Then rang through the house
a wild scream followed by the sound of a heavy fall; and the startled
inmates, gathering from various quarters, found lying at the foot of
the steep stairs a prostrate figure with white upturned face and
firmly-closed eyes.
[Illustration: A prostrate figure with white, upturned face.]