CHAPTER VIII.

THE LETTER.

After dinner Mrs. Clavering called the girls of the Upper school into

the oak parlor.

"My dears," she said, "I won't keep you a minute, but I have just had a

letter from Sir John Wallis, and he wishes me to say that he would like

the girls who are to compete for the preliminary examination for the

Scholarship to write their answers to the English History questions.

He has sent over the questions in this envelope, and you can all read

them, and you are to write your answers in advance, and fold them up

and put them into envelopes for him to open and read to-night. I

believe there are ten questions, but his rule is that you are none of

you to be helped by any book in the answers, and that no one girl is to

assist another. That is all, my dears; you can go into the school-room

and get the matter through in less than an hour if you like. And now

hurry away, for there is no time to lose. I will have the question

pinned up in the school-room for you all to see."

Mrs. Clavering hastened away, and all the girls of the Upper school,

seven in all, presently found themselves seated by their desks, busily

answering Sir John Wallis's questions on the reign of Queen Elizabeth.

When Mrs. Clavering had made her statement Florence had cast one

anxious, half-despairing glance in Kitty's direction, and Kitty had

slowly raised her arched eyebrows and looked at her friend with

compassion and distress.

Kitty now walked quickly to her desk, glanced at the questions, and

wrote the answers in a good bold, firm hand.

Her early training with her father stood her in excellent stead, and

she was able to give a vivid account of the Spanish Armada and of other

great events in the reign of good Queen Bess. She felt quite cheerful

and hopeful as she wrote her answers, expressing them in good English,

and taking great pains to be correct with regard to spelling. At last

they were finished. She slipped them into her envelope, put them back

in her desk, and left the room. As she did so she passed Florence,

whose cheeks were flushed like peonies, and who was bending in some

despair over her paper, for Florence was well known in the school to be

ignorant as regarded all matters connected with history, although she

was smart enough in her own line.

"Poor Florry, I am sorry for her," thought Kitty. Then she went away

to her room and employed her spare time writing a long letter to her

father, and did not give Florence any more thought.

Meanwhile Mabel and Alice Cunningham, Mary Bateman, Bertha Kennedy, and

Edith King, one and all answered the English History questions; they

slipped them into envelopes, and put them into their desks. They also

left the room, and Florence was alone in the school-room.

When she found herself so she threw back her head, uttered a great

yawn, and then glanced in despair at the ten very comprehensive

questions set by Sir John Wallis.

"I shall never answer them," she said to herself; "it is quite

impossible. I have not the faintest idea what he means by question

five, for instance. She hated Mary Queen of Scots, I know that, and

she got her to be imprisoned, I know that also; but what is the story

in connection with the Earl of Leicester? I cannot, cannot remember

it. Oh, how tiresome, how more than tiresome--this may lose me my

chance with the lucky three, for Alice Cunningham is trying quite hard,

and Edith King is having a regular fight over the matter; and of

course, there is no doubt that Kitty Sharston will be elected to try

for the Scholarship, but I--yes, I must be elected--I will; but what

shall I do?"

Florence paced restlessly up and down the school-room. As she did so

she suddenly perceived with a quickening of her heart's pulses that

Kitty through an oversight had left the key in her desk; all the other

girls had locked their desks; but Kitty, who was generally careful

enough in this matter, had left the key in hers.

Nothing in all the world would be easier than for Florence to open

Kitty's desk, to take out the envelope which contained her replies to

the English History questions, and to glance at the momentous question

which related to the Earl of Leicester. Right or wrong, Florence felt

she must stoop to this mean action.

"After all, being included in the lucky three does not mean winning the

Scholarship," she said to herself, "and I should so like to be one of

the three. I think I will take one look; there is no one in the house

at present. I saw Kitty cross the courtyard and go in the direction of

the garden not half an hour ago. No one will know, and I shall have an

equal chance with the others; if not, I shall fail, and to fail now

would drive me mad."

Just at that moment Florence, who had approached the window in her

restless pacing up and down, saw the postboy enter the courtyard. She

ran out to meet him. He brought several letters, and amongst others

one for Florence from her mother. She took it back with her to the

schoolroom. Mrs. Aylmer's letters were never particularly cheerful,

but Florence opened it now with a slight degree of eagerness.

"I have good news for you, Florence," wrote her mother; "if you succeed

in being elected as one of the three who are to compete for Sir John

Wallis's Scholarship, I shall certainly contrive to give you a week at

Dawlish with me. Of course, if you fail it will be utterly useless,

and I should not dream of wasting the money; so try your very best, my

dear child, for there is more in this than meets the eye. It will make

the most immense difference in your life, my dear Florence, if you gain

this Scholarship, and also in the life of your affectionate mother. I

may as well add here that your Aunt Susan becomes more intolerable day

by day, and it is extremely probable that she will soon cease to pay

your school fees at all. If that is the case, my dear, I really do not

know what is to become of you, as I certainly cannot afford to meet

them. Try your best for the Scholarship, dear. If you win it write to

me immediately and I will send you the money to come home."

"What a chance!" thought Florence, as she finished reading the letter.

She folded it up and slipped it into her pocket; the next instant she

had crossed the room, had opened Kitty's desk, and taken out the

envelope with its folded sheet of paper within. She unfolded the paper

and glanced at its contents. One quick glance was sufficient. She put

back the paper into the envelope, shut Kitty's desk, and returned to

her own.

Her cheeks were redder than ever and her heart was beating wildly, but

she knew what she wanted to know. Florence folded up her own sheet of

paper, put it into its envelope, and laid it in her desk. She felt

pretty certain now of being elected as one of the lucky three, and no

one need ever know that she had peeped at Kitty's answers. After all,

but for this ridiculous and sudden prohibition on the part of Sir John

Wallis, Kitty would have helped her with her English History all the

afternoon. Now, of course, she could not ask her, but never mind, she

knew what she wanted to know.

Her heart felt a little uncomfortable, and, notwithstanding the hope

that she might spend a week at Dawlish with her mother, to whom she was

devotedly attached, and the further hope of taking an honorable place

in the coming competition, she felt a queer sense of depression.

She was just preparing to leave the school-room when the door opened

and Mademoiselle Le Brun looked in. She did not see Florence at first,

then she glanced at her and spoke hurriedly.

"I thought Kitty Sharston was here; I want her," she said.

"No," said Florence; "what is it; what do you want?"

"I have to give her a shilling back out of the change."

"A shilling out of the change; what do you mean?"

"Oh, nothing, my dear; I ought not to tell you; I owe her a shilling,

that's all."

"By the way, mademoiselle," said Florence, "I have not thanked you yet

for getting me that lovely ribbon. How was it you managed to get it so

cheaply?"

Mademoiselle looked very knowing.

"I am glad you like it," she said; "it was not particularly cheap."

She left the room, although Florence called after her to stay.

Florence walked quickly to the window. She looked out. The sun was

still high in the heavens, for on this midsummer day it would take a

long time before the evening arrived. Florence's heart beat harder

than ever, for suddenly her eyes were opened, and she knew how she had

got the cherry-colored ribbon. Kitty had given it to her, and Florence

had stolen some of Kitty's knowledge and applied it to herself.

She hated herself for it, but not enough to retract what she had done.

She went up to her room, threw herself on the bed, and burst out crying.

Yes, she would stick to it now, but, all the same, she hated herself.

It was very unpleasant to be lowered in her own eyes, but she would go

through with the matter now, whatever befell.

The chance of going to Dawlish, the chance of winning the Scholarship,

meant too much to her; she must secure this good thing which had fallen

in her path at any cost.

The evening drew on apace, and the whole school was in a perfect fever

of excitement. The girls came up to their different dormitories to

dress for the occasion.

Kitty, who was not too well provided with clothes, nevertheless did

possess one very smart evening frock. It was made of lovely Indian

muslin, exquisitely embroidered and beautifully made. She took it now

out of her trunk, and looked at it with admiration. Her father had

bought this Indian muslin for her, having sent for it straight away to

India, and he had himself superintended the making of the beautiful

dress.

Kitty's fingers trembled now as she slipped the soft folds over her

head, and tucked in the spray of cherry-colored ribbons just above her

white satin belt, and then she tied back her hair with the same shiny

soft ribbon, and looked at her little pale face in the glass and

wondered how soon she would see her father again.

"Oh, father! father!" she thought, "I am going to try my hardest, my

very, very hardest, and all for your sake, and I'll be brave for your

sake, and three years won't be very long passing if I spend every

moment of the time in working my very hardest, and doing my very best

for you."

When she had finished her dressing she turned to help the other girls.

Mabel and Alice Cunningham were in soft pink dresses, a little paler in

shade than the cherry-colored ribbons which as a matter of course they

would wear, and one and all of the girls of the Upper school were

becomingly and suitably dressed, with the exception of poor Florence;

but Florence's muslin dress was coarse in texture and badly made, and

notwithstanding the soft cherry-colored ribbons, she did not look her

best. Also her head ached, and she was in low spirits.

Kitty was particularly affectionate to Florence, and she asked her now

in an anxious tone how she had managed with regard to her English

History.

"I am so dreadfully sorry," she said; "I meant to give you such a

coaching in the reign of Queen Elizabeth all this afternoon, Florry,

but there, it can't be helped. How did you manage, dear? Do you think

you have answered all the questions?"

"Of course I have," answered Florence, in an almost cross voice, for

she could scarcely bear Kitty's affectionate manners just then. "You

take me for a great dunce, Kitty, but I am not quite so bad as you

imagine."

"Oh, I know you are anything but a dunce," replied Kitty; "I don't take

you for one, I assure you, Florence, only I did hope that I might help

you in English History, for that is my strong point."

"You are quite conceited about it, I do believe," said Florence.

"There, don't pull my dress about any more. Thank you, I like my

cherry bow here better than in my belt. Don't touch me, please."

Florence hated herself beyond words for being so cross, but the fact

was her heart ached so badly she could scarcely be civil to Kitty.

She ran downstairs, and for the rest of the evening kept out of Kitty

Sharston's way.

Yes; it was a glorious evening, and everything passed off without a

hitch of any sort. The guests consisted of all the best people in the

neighborhood. They sat round and applauded all the girls, who danced

the minuet with becoming grace and looked very pretty as they glided

about on the lamp-lit lawn.

And then one or two of them recited, and one or two of them sang songs,

and then there was a great chorus in which all the girls joined, and

then they danced Sir Roger de Coverley to the merry strains of a string

band, and presently the great occasion of all came when the girls,

followed by the guests, entered the great central hall of Cherry Court,

and the prizes were given away.

Florence obtained two prizes, a beautiful edition of Scott's poems, and

also a little portfolio full of some pretty water-color drawings, for

Florence had a great taste for art, and had managed to come out at the

head of the school with her own water-color sketches.

The other girls also obtained prizes, all but Kitty Sharston, who was

not long enough in the school to be entitled to one.

Kitty found herself now close to Sir John Wallis, who motioned to her

to come up to his side, and pointed to a chair near where she could sit.

"I heard from your father this morning," he said, "and I mean to send

him a cable to Malta if you are elected as one of the fortunate three.

He expects to touch Malta on Saturday, and the cable will be waiting

for him with the good news, I make not the slightest doubt."

"Oh, will you? How splendid of you!" said Kitty; "but perhaps I shall

not succeed."

"Oh, yes, I have no doubt you will. Now, pluck up your courage, answer

your best; don't be a scrap afraid."

"But, Sir John, you must promise me one thing," said Kitty, looking

earnestly into his face.

"What is that, my dear?" asked Sir John, smiling down into the eager

little face.

"You won't favor me more than the other girls? You'll be quite, quite

fair, and give the chance to those girls who are really in your opinion

the best?"

"I will, Kitty, I will," said Sir John; "do you think I could do

anything else as regards your father's daughter? And now, child, the

time is up, and I am going into the oak parlor. You will all follow me

in a moment."

Kitty never forgot the hour which was spent in the oak parlor with her

companions of the Upper school. She did not know how she answered the

questions put with great animation by Sir John. She only knew that her

heart was beating wildly, and she was thinking all the time of that

cablegram which would comfort her father when he reached Malta, and

resolving as surely girl never resolved before not to disappoint him,

to give him if she could, if it were any way within her power, that

supreme pleasure. And so when the hour was over and the brief

examination was made, and the names of the successful competitors

called out, and Kitty Sharston's name appeared at the head of the list,

she could only look at Sir John, and think of the cablegram, and not

feel at all elated, although her companions clustered around her and

shook her hand and wished her joy.

The two other successful competitors were Florence Aylmer and Mary

Bateman.

Mrs. Clavering then read out certain rules which Sir John had made with

regard to the Scholarship, and soon afterwards the proceedings of the

evening broke up; the guests departed to their homes, carrying their

baskets of cherries with them; and Kitty, Florence and Mary were

surrounded by their companions, who wished them joy and cheered them

three times three, and took them up to their dormitory in triumph.

A Bunch of Cherries: A Story of Cherry Court School · 第 8 / 21 章