[Illustration: Cover art]

A Bunch of Cherries

A STORY OF CHERRY COURT SCHOOL

BY

Mrs. L. T. MEADE

AUTHOR OF

"A Modern Tomboy, " "The School Favorite, " "Children's Pilgrimage, ""Little Mother to the Others, " Etc. 

CHICAGO:

M. A. DONOHUE & CO. 

1898

CONTENTS

CHAPTER. 

 I. The School II. The Girls III. The Telegram IV. Sir John's Great Scheme V. Florence VI. Kitty and Her Father VII. Cherry-Colored Ribbons VIII. The Letter IX. The Little Mummy X. Aunt Susan XI. "I Always Admired Frankness" XII. The Fairy Box XIII. An Invitation XIV. At the Park XV. The Pupil Teacher XVI. Temptation XVII. The Fall XVIII. The Guests Arrive XIX. Tit for Tat XX. The Hills for Ever XXI. The Sting of the Serpent XXII. The Voice of God

A BUNCH OF CHERRIES. 

CHAPTER I. 

THE SCHOOL. 

The house was long and low and rambling. In parts at least it musthave been quite a hundred years old, and even the modern portion wasnot built according to the ideas of the present day, for in 1870 peoplewere not so aesthetic as they are now, and the lines of beauty andgrace were not considered all essential to happiness. 

So even the new part of the house had square rooms destitute ofornament, and the papers were small in pattern and without any artisticdesigns, and the windows were square and straight, and the ceilingswere somewhat low. 

The house opened on to a wide lawn, and at the left of the lawn was apaddock and at the right a shrubbery, and the shrubbery led away underits overhanging trees into the most perfect walled-in garden that wasever seen. The garden was two or three hundred years old. The oldestinhabitants of the place had never known the time when Cherry Courtgarden was not the talk of the country. Visitors came from all partsround to see it. It was celebrated on account of its very high wallsbuilt of red brick, its size, for it covered at least three acres ofground, and its magnificent cherries. The cherry trees in the Courtgarden bore the most splendid fruit which could be obtained in any partof the county. They were in great demand, not only for the girls wholived in the old house and played in the garden, but for the neighborsall over the country. A big price was always paid for these cherries, for they made such splendid jam, as well as being so full of juice andso ripe and good to eat that their like could not be found anywhereelse. 

The cherries were of all sorts and kinds, from the celebrated WhiteHeart to the black cherry. There were cherries for cooking andcherries for eating, and in the season the trees, which were laden withripe fruit, were a sight to behold. 

In the height of the cherry season Mrs. Clavering always gave a cherryfeast. It was the event of the entire year, and the girls lookedforward to it, making all their arrangements in connection with it, counting the hours until it arrived, and looking upon it as the greatfeature of their school year. Everything turned on whether thecherries were good and the weather fine. There was no greater stimulusto hard work than the merest mention of this golden day, which came asa rule towards the end of June and just before the summer vacation. For Cherry Court School was old-fashioned according to our modernideas, and one of its old-fashioned plans was to give holidays at theend of June instead of the end of July, so that the girls had thelongest, finest days at home, and came back to work at the end ofAugust refreshed and strengthened, and prepared for a good long tug atlessons of all sorts until Christmas. 

The school consisted of twenty girls, never more and never less, forMrs. Clavering was too great a favorite and had too wise and excellentideas with regard to education ever to be without pupils, and nevermore, for she believed twenty to be the perfect number to whom shecould give every attention and offer every advantage. 

The school, small as it was, was divided into two sections, the Upperand the Lower. In the Upper school were girls from eighteen tofourteen years of age, and in the Lower some of the small scholarsnumbered even as few years as six. There was a resident Frenchmistress in the school and also a resident German, and there was anEnglish governess, and, of course, Mrs. Clavering herself; but theother teachers came from the neighboring town of Hartleway to instructthe pupils in all those accomplishments which were in the earlyseventies considered necessary for a young lady's education. I canassure those of my readers who are well acquainted with modern schoolsthat no one could have been more particular than Mrs. Clavering withregard to her girls. In such things as deportment and nice manners andall the code which signifies politeness, and in the almost lost art ofbrilliant conversation, she could instruct as very few other peoplecould in her day, and then what accomplishments she did teach werethorough. The girls were taught French properly, they understood thegrammar of the language, and could also speak it nicely; and theirGerman was also very fair, if not quite as thorough as their French. And their music had some backbone in it, for a little of the sciencewas taught as well as the practice, and their singing was very sweetand true. They could also recite, those of them who had any gift forit, quite beautifully, and if they had a turn for acting that also wasbrought to the fore and made the most of. As to their knowledge of theEnglish language, it bade fair to eclipse many of the High School girlsof the present day, for they did understand in the first place itsliterature, and in the next its grammar, and were well acquainted withthe works of Shakespeare and those other lions of literature whosenames we are so proud of and whose works we love. 

CHAPTER II. 

THE GIRLS. 

It was a lovely day in the beginning of June, and, being Wednesday, wasa half-holiday. The girls of the Upper school, numbering seven in all, were assembled in the cherry garden. The cherry garden stood a littleapart, to the left of the great general garden, and was entered by alow walled-in door. 

Mrs. Clavering was so proud of her cherries and so afraid that theneighbors might be tempted to help themselves to the luscious fruit, that she kept the door locked between the cherry garden and the other, and only those girls who were very privileged were allowed to sit init. But the girls in the Upper school were, of course, privileged, andthey were now enjoying a fine time seated on the grass, or on littlecamp-stools and chairs, under the trees, which were already laden withthe tempting fruit. 

They were all eagerly discussing the great event of the year, theCherry Feast, which was to take place in three weeks from the presentday. Their names were Mabel and Alice Cunningham, two handsomedark-eyed girls, aged respectively seventeen and fifteen; FlorenceAylmer, who was also fifteen and the romp of the school; Mary Bateman, a stolid-looking girl of fourteen; Bertha Kennedy, who had only latelybeen raised to the rank of the Upper school; Edith King, a handsome, graceful girl, who competed with Mabel for the honors of the head ofher class; and Kitty Sharston, who had only lately come, and who hadsome Irish blood in her, and was very daring and very much inclined tobreak the rules. She was a hobbledehoy sort of girl, havingoutstripped her years, which were only thirteen, and was considered bysome of her companions very plain and by others very fascinating. 

Mrs. Clavering did not quite know what to make of Kitty, but hoped tobreak her in by and by, and meanwhile she was very gentle, and Kittyloved her, although she never could be got to see that so manyrestrictions and so many little petty rules were not good, butextremely bad, for her character. 

On this particular lovely summer's afternoon Kitty was the last to makeher appearance. She came skimming gracefully through the orchard underthe cherry trees, with her hair down her back, her skirt awry, and agreat stain on the front of her pinafore. In the seventies girls asold as Kitty wore long white pinafores. The stain was caused by somecherry juice, for Kitty had stopped many times as she approached theothers to take great handfuls of the ripe fruit, and thrust them intoher mouth. Mabel called to her to sit down. 

"We are all busy discussing the great event, " she said, "and I havekept a seat for you near me, Kitty; wasn't it good of me?"

"Awfully good, " answered Kitty. She flung herself on the ground by herfriend's side and looked up at her with affectionate eyes. 

"I like you all, " she said, glancing round at them, "and yet all thesame I hate school. The great thing that I look forward to in thetreat is that immediately afterwards the holidays follow. I shall godown to join my father in Cornwall. He said he would take me toIreland, but I doubt if he will. Now, Tommy, what are you frowning at?"

This remark was made to Florence Aylmer. Kitty from the first hadinsisted upon calling her Tommy. She was the first girl in CherryCourt School who had dared to adopt a nickname for any of hercompanions, and Florence, who had begun by being indignant, could nothelp laughing now as the saucy creature fixed her with her bright eyes. 

"What are you frowning at, Tommy? Aren't you glad, too, that theholidays are so near?"

"No, I am not--I hate the holidays, " replied Florence Aylmer. As shespoke Mabel took one of Kitty's hands, gave it a slight squeeze, it wasa sort of warning pressure. Kitty looked up at her with a startledglance, then she glanced again at Florence, who was looking down. Suddenly Florence raised her face and returned the girl's gaze fully. 

"I have no home like the rest of you, " she said; "my mother is verypoor and cannot afford to have me at home. "

"Then where are you going to spend the holidays?" said Kitty; "do say, dear old Tommy, where--where?"

"Here probably, or wherever Mrs. Clavering likes to take me, " repliedFlorence; "but there, don't talk of it any more--I hate to think of it. We have three weeks still to be happy in, and we'll make the best ofthat. "

"Do you know, Mabel, " asked Mary Bateman, now bending forward, "if Mrs. Clavering has yet decided what the programme is to be for the 25th?"

"I think she will tell us to-night, " replied Mabel; "she said somethingabout it this morning, didn't she, Alice?"

"Yes, I heard her talking to Mademoiselle Le Brun. I expect we shallhear at tea-time. If so we will meet in the oak parlor, and Mrs. Clavering will have her annual talk. She is always very nice on thoseoccasions. "

"She is nice on every occasion--she is an old dear, " said Kitty. 

"Why, Kitty, you don't know her very well yet. "

"She is an old dear, " reported Kitty; "I love her with all my heart, but I should like beyond words to give her a right good shock. Icannot tell you girls, how I positively tremble to do it. At prayers, for instance, or still more at meals, when we are all so painfullydemure, I want to jump up and utter a shout, or do something of thatsort. I have suppressed myself hitherto, but I really do not know if Ican go on suppressing myself much longer. Oh, what is the matter, Edith--what are you frowning at?"

"Nothing, " replied Edith King; "I did not even know that I wasfrowning. I was just thinking how nice it was to be trained to beladylike and to have good manners and all that. Mrs. Clavering is sucha perfect lady herself that we shall know all the rules of politesociety when we leave the school. "

"And I hate those rules, " said Kitty; "but there, somebody is coming tomeet us. Oh, it is little Dolly Fairfax; she is sure to be bringing amessage. "

CHAPTER III. 

THE TELEGRAM. 

Dolly came up in her brisk way. She was holding something concealed inher little pinafore. She looked very mysterious. She had a roundcherub face and two great big blue eyes, and short hair, which she worein a curly mop all over her head. Dolly was the youngest girl in theschool and a great pet with everyone. When Bertha saw her now shesprang to her feet and went forward in her somewhat clumsy way. 

"Come, little Dolly, " she said; "what's the mystery?"

"It's not for you, Bertha, " said Dolly, "and don't you interrupt. It'sfor--it's for Kitty Sharston. "

"For me?" cried Kitty. "Oh, what a love you are, Dolly; come and siton my lap. Is it a box of bon-bons or is it a letter?"

"Guess again, " said Dolly, clapping her hand to her little mouth, andlooking intensely mysterious. Her blue eyes rolled roguishly rounduntil they fixed themselves on Edith King's face, then she looked againat Kitty as solemn as possible. 

"You guess again, " she said; "I'll give you five guesses. Now, then, begin right away. "

"It's the book that Annie Wallace said she would lend me--that's it, now, isn't it, Dolly? See, I'll feel in your pinafore. "

"No, it's not--wrong again, " said Dolly; "that's three guesses--twomore. "

Kitty made another guess--wrong again. Finally Dolly was induced tounfold her pinafore, and inside lay an unopened telegram. 

Now, in those days telegrams were not quite as common as they are now. In the first place, they cost a shilling instead of sixpence, whichmade a vast difference in their number. Kitty's face turned slightlypale, she gripped the telegram, shook little Dolly off her lap, stoodup, and, turning her back to the girls, proceeded to open it. Herslim, long fingers shook a little as she did so. She soon had theenvelope torn asunder and had taken out the pink sheet within. Sheunfolded it and read the words. As she did so her face turned verywhite. "Is the messenger waiting for an answer?" she said, turning toDolly. 

"Yes, " replied Dolly; "he is waiting up at the Court. "

"Then I must run away at once and answer this, " said Kitty. "Oh, Iwonder if I have got money enough!"

"I'll lend you a shilling if you like, " said Edith King. 

"Thanks, awfully, " replied Kitty. "I'll pay you back when I get mypocket-money on Saturday. "

There was a queer, troubled, dazed sort of look in her eyes. Edithhanded her the shilling and she disappeared under the cherry trees. 

Dolly proceeded to skim after her. 

"No, do stay, Dolly, " cried Florence Aylmer; "stay and sit on my lapand I'll tell you a story. "

Dolly looked undecided for a moment, but presently she elected to gowith Kitty. 

"There is something bothering her, " she said; "I wonder what it can be. I'll run and see; I'll bring word afterwards. "

She disappeared with little shouts under the trees. Nothing could evermake Dolly sad long. The other girls turned and looked at one another. 

"What in the world can it be?" said Florence. "Poor Kitty! how verywhite she turned as she read it. "

Meanwhile Kitty had reached the house; the messenger was waiting in thehall. Mrs. Clavering came out just as the girl appeared. 

"Well, my dear Kitty, " she said, "I hope it is not very bad news?"

"I will tell you presently; I must answer it now, " said Kitty. 

"You can go into the study, dear, and write your telegram there. "

Kitty went in; she spent a little time, about ten minutes or so, filling in the form; then she folded it up, gave it to the boy with ashilling, and went and stood in the hall. 

"What is the matter, Kitty?" said her governess, coming out and lookingher in the face. 

"My telegram was from father. He--he is going to India, " said Kitty, "that is all. I won't be with him in the holidays--that's all. "

She tried to keep the tremble out of her voice; her eyes, brave, bright, and fearless, were fixed on Mrs. Clavering's face. 

"Come in here and let us talk, dear, " said Mrs. Clavering. 

"I can't, " said Kitty; "it is too bad. "

"What is too bad, dear?"

"The pain here. " She pressed her hand against her heart. 

"Poor child! you love him very much. "

"Very much, " answered Kitty, "and the pain is too bad, and--and I can'ttalk now. I'll just go back to the other girls in the cherry orchard. "

"But, Kitty, can you bear to be with them just now?"

"I can't be alone, " said Kitty, with a little piteous smile. She ranout again into the summer sunshine. Mrs. Clavering stood and watchedher. 

"Poor little girl, " she said to herself, "and she does not know theworst, nor half the worst, for I had a long letter from Major Sharstonthis morning, and he told me that not only was he obliged to go toIndia, but that he had lost so large a sum of money that he could notafford to keep Kitty here after this term. She is to go to Scotland tolive with an old cousin; she must give up all chance of being properlyeducated. Poor little Kitty! I wonder if he mentioned that in thetelegram, and she is so proud, too, and has so much character; it is asad, sad pity. "

Meanwhile Kitty once more returned through the orchard. She began tosing a gay song to herself. She had a very sweet voice, and wascarolling wild notes now high up in the air--"Begone, dull care; youand I shall never agree. "

The girls sitting under the finest of the cherry trees heard her as shesang. 

"There can't be much wrong with her, " said Mary Bateman, with a sigh ofrelief. "Hullo, Kitty, no bad news, I hope?"

"There is bad news, but I can't talk of it now, " said Kitty. "Come, what shall we do? We need not stay under the trees any longer surely, need we? Let's have a right good game--blind man's buff, or shall weplay hare and hounds. "

"Oh, it's much too hot for hare and hounds, " said Edith King. 

"Well, let's do something, " said Kitty; "we all ought to be very happyon a half-holiday, and I don't mean to be miserable. Now, then, startsomething. I'll go and hide. Now, who will begin?"

Kitty laughed merrily; she glanced from one to the other of the girls, saw that their eyes were shining with a queer mixture of curiosity andsympathy, and felt that she would do anything in the world rather thangratify them. 

"After all, " she said to herself, as she ran wildly across the cheeryorchard, "poor old Tommy and I will have our holidays together, for atthe very best, even if father has not lost that money, I will have tostay here during the holidays. Oh, father! oh, father! how am I tolive without you? Oh, father, dear, this is too cruel! I know, I amcertain you have lost the money, or you would not be going to Indiaaway from your own, own Kitty. "

She crushed down a sob, reached a little summer-house, into which sheturned, pulled down some tarpaulin to cover her, and, crouching in thecorner, lay still, her heart beating wildly. 

"Begone, dull care, " she whispered stoutly under her breath; and thenshe added, with a sob in her voice, "whatever happens, I won't give in. "

That evening was a time of great excitement in the school, for theprogramme for the Cherry Feast was to be publicly announced, and thegirls felt that there was further news in the air. 

Immediately after early tea, between five and six o'clock, Mrs. Clavering called Kitty into the oak parlor. 

"My dear, " she said, "I want to have a talk with you. "

Some of the wild light had gone out of Kitty's eyes by this time, andthe flush had left her cheeks, leaving them somewhat pale. 

"Yes, Mrs. Clavering, " she said; "what is it?"

"I want you, my dear little girl, not to keep all your troubles toyourself. "

"But what am I to do?" said Kitty, standing first on one leg and thenon the other. 

"Hold yourself upright in the first place, dear. After all, the lawsof deportment ought to be attended to, whatever one's trouble. "

Kitty gave an impatient sigh. 

"There you are, " she exclaimed, "that's what makes you so very queer;that's what makes it almost impossible for me to bear the restraint ofschool. When--when your heart is almost breaking, what does it matterhow you stand?"

"My dear child, you will find in the events of life that it greatlymatters to learn self-control. "

"I have self-control, " said Kitty, with a quiver in her lips. 

"Well, dear, I hope you will prove it, for I fear, I greatly fear, thatyou are about to have a bad time. "

"Oh, I am having a bad time, " said Kitty; "don't you suppose that I amnot suffering. I am suffering horribly, but I won't let anybodyknow--that is, if I can help it. I am not going to damp the pleasureof the others; you know that father is going, and I am his only child. He is coming just once to say good-bye to me; yes, he promises me thateven in the telegram. He will come in about a fortnight from now, justa week before the Cherry Feast. Oh, I am miserable, I am miserable!"

All of a sudden the poor child's composure gave way, she covered herface with her trembling hands, and burst into a great flood of weeping. 

A look of relief crossed Mrs. Clavering's face. 

"Now she will be better, " she said to herself; "she will understandwhat I have to say to her better. Shall I say it to her now or shall Iwait until the morning? It is very hard; perhaps she had better knowall at once. "

So Mrs. Clavering led the weeping girl to the nearest sofa, andpresently she stole her arm round her waist, and coaxed her to lay herhead on her shoulder, and by and by she kissed the tired, flushedlittle face. 

Kitty, who had the most loving heart in the world, returned herembrace, and nestled close to her, and felt in spite of herself alittle better than she had done before. 

"I know it is very bad, dear, " said Mrs. Clavering, "but we can talkabout it now if you like. "

"I don't know that there is anything to say, " said Kitty; "he would nothave gone but for----"

"But for what, my child!"

"But for that dreadful money. He was very anxious when he sent mehere. Oh, perhaps, I ought not to say anything about it. "

"I think you may, Kitty, for I know, dear. I had a long letter fromyour father this morning. He told me then news which I considered verysad. You know, my love, that this is an expensive school. All thegirls who come here pay well; most of the girls who are here have richfathers and mothers. "

"Oh, I know that, " interrupted Kitty; "and how I hate rich fathers andmothers! Why should only rich people have nice things?"

"Then you do like this school, don't you, my love?"

"As much as I could like any place away from father; but what did hesay this morning, Mrs. Clavering?" Kitty started restlessly and facedher governess as she spoke. 

"He said, dear, that he must go to India because he had lost a verylarge sum of money. He said he would send you a telegram as soon as hehad made arrangements, as there was no good troubling you before. Hethought it best you should know by telegram, as the sight of thetelegram itself would slightly prepare you for the bad news. But, mydear little Kitty, in some ways there is worse to follow, for yourfather cannot afford to pay my fees, and you must leave Cherry CourtSchool at the end of this term. "

Kitty sat silent. This last news, very bad in itself, scarcelyaffected her at first. It seemed a mere nothing compared to theparting from her beloved father. 

"Yes, " she said at last, in a listless voice, "I must leave here. "

"I will keep you with me, darling, until the end of the vacation. "Kitty gave a perceptible shudder. "I am going to the seaside withFlorence Aylmer, and you shall come with us. I will try and give youas good a time, dear little Kitty, as ever I can, but it would not befair to the other girls to keep you here for nothing. "

"No, of course it would not be fair, " said Kitty. "And where am I togo, " she added, after a very long pause, "when the vacation is over, when the girls come back here again at the end of August?"

"Then, my dear child, I greatly fear you will have to go and stay withyour father's cousin, Miss Dartmoor, in Argyleshire. "

"Helen Dartmoor!" said Kitty, suddenly springing to her feet, "father'scousin, Helen Dartmoor! She came to stay with us for a month aftermother died, and if there is a person in the whole world whom I loathedit was her. No, I won't go to her; I'll write and tell father Ican't--I won't; it shan't be. Nothing would induce me to live withher. Oh, Mrs. Clavering, you don't know what she is, and she--why, shedoesn't speak decent English, and she knows scarcely anything. How amI to be educated, Mrs. Clavering? I could not do it. "

"There is a school not far from Miss Dartmoor's; of course, not aschool like this, but a school where you can be taught some things, mypoor child. "

"I won't go to Helen Dartmoor--I won't!" said Kitty, in a passionatevoice. 

"I fear there is no help for it, my love; but when you see your fatherhe will tell you all about it. I wish with all my heart, I could keepyou here, but I greatly fear there is no help for it. "

"And is that all you have to say?" said Kitty, rising slowly as shespoke. 

"Yes, dear, all for the present. "

"Then I am a very miserable girl. I'll go away to my room for alittle. I may, may I not?"

"On this occasion you may, although you know it is the rule that noneof the girls go to their dormitories during the daytime. "

Kitty left the room, walking very slowly. She had scarcely done sobefore a loud ring, followed by a rat-tat on the knocker of the frontdoor, was heard through the house. 

A moment later the door of Mrs. Clavering's oak parlor was flung open, and Sir John Wallis entered the room. 

Sir John Wallis was the great man in the neighborhood. 

He was the owner of Cherry Court School, renting the house andbeautiful grounds to Mrs. Clavering year by year. He was an unmarriedman, and took a great interest in the school. He was a verybenevolent, kindly person, and Mrs. Clavering and he were the closestfriends. 

"Ah, my dear madam, " he said, bowing now in his somewhat old-fashionedway, and then extending his hand to the good lady, "I am so glad to seeyou at home. How are you and how are the girls?"

"Oh, very well, Sir John. "

"But you look a little bit worried; what is wrong?"

"Well, the fact is, one of my girls, Kitty Sharston----"

"That pretty, queer-looking half-wild girl whom I saw in church onSunday?"

"The same; she is the daughter of Major Sharston, a very estimable man. "

"Sharston, Sharston, I should think he is. Why, he is an old brotherofficer of mine; we served together in the time of the Crimea. Anything wrong with Sharston! What's up, my dear madam, what is up!"

"Well, it's just this, " said Mrs. Clavering. "Major Sharston has losta lot of money, and is obliged to take an appointment in India, and hecannot afford to leave poor Kitty at the school longer than till theend of term. I intend to have her as my guest during the holidays, butafterwards she must go to an old cousin in Scotland, and the poor childhas little chance of ever being very well educated. She is very muchshaken by the blow. "

"But this is fearful, " said Sir John, "fearful! What can we do?"

"Nothing, I am afraid, " said Mrs. Clavering. "Nothing would offendMajor Sharston more than for his daughter to accept charity in anyform. He is a very proud man, and Kitty, when all is said and done, although very wild and needing a lot of training, has got a spirit ofher own. She will be a fine girl by and by. "

"And a beautiful one to boot, " interrupted Sir John. "Well, this isterrible; what can we do?"

"Nothing, " repeated Mrs. Clavering again. 

Sir John looked very thoughtful. 

"Is it to-night, " he said, "you announce your programme for the CherryFeast?"

"Yes, " answered the good lady. 

"Then I have a crow to pluck with you; you never sent me notice toattend. "

"I did not, for I thought you would be away, but will you come in thisevening, Sir John, we shall all be delighted to see you?"

Sir John considered for a moment. 

"I will, " he said, "and you know I always offer a prize of my own, which is to be given at the Cherry Feast. Now, why should not we onthis occasion offer a prize which Kitty Sharston runs a chance ofwinning, and which would save her from leaving Cherry Court School?"

Mrs. Clavering shook her head. 

Sir John bent forward and began to speak eagerly. 

"Now, come, " he said, "I think I can manage it. Could it not be donein this way?" He spoke in a low tone, and Mrs. Clavering bent her headto listen. 

"But, even if you did offer such a prize, " she said, "which in itselfwould be very valuable, what chance has Kitty of winning it? She isnot particularly forward in any of her studies, and then the girls whodid not want it would get it. "

"I am persuaded that Kitty has plenty of ability, " said Sir John. 

"I quite agree with you, and to work for such a prize would be animmense stimulus; but then, you know, the feast comes on so soon, andthere are only three weeks in which to prepare. "

"We can manage it by means of a sort of preliminary canter, " said thebaronet, in a musing tone; "I am sure we can work the thing up. Now, let us put our heads together and get some idea into shape beforeto-night. That child must be saved; her father's feelings must berespected. She must stay here and be under your wing, and I will goand have a chat with Sharston and see if I cannot make life endurableto the poor little girl, even though he is away in India. "

"Well, it is very nice your being a friend of Major Sharston's. If youwill stay here for about half an hour while I am attending to somethingelse, I will come back and we will see what scheme we can draw up. "

"Good, " said Sir John, "and don't hurry back, for I am going to put onmy considering-cap. This thing must be managed by hook or by crook. "

CHAPTER IV. 

SIR JOHN'S GREAT SCHEME. 

It was in this way that the great prize which caused such excitement inCherry Court School was started. 

It was called the Scholarship prize, and was a new and daring idea ofthe early seventies. Girls were not accustomed to big prizes in thosedays, and scholarships were only in vogue in the few public schoolswhich were then in existence. 

Sir John and Mrs. Clavering between them drew up a scheme which putevery other idea into the shade, for there was a great honor to beconferred as well as a very big money prize, and the girls werestimulated to try their very best. It was arranged that the prize wasto be competed for between this day in early June and the day when theCherry Feast was held by the entire Upper school, but that after thatdate the competitors were only to number three. The three girls whocame out in the first list at the time of the Cherry Feast were tocompete for the great prize itself in the following October, and Mrs. Clavering had made private arrangements with Sir John to keep Kitty atthe school, in case she came out one of the first three, until October, when the prize itself was to be won. 

There were three tests which were to qualify for the prize. First andabove all, good conduct; an unselfish, brave, noble character wouldrank very high indeed. Second would come neat appearance and admirabledeportment, which would include graceful conversation, polite mannersand all those things which are more or less neglected in moderneducation; and last of all would come the grand educational test. 

Thus every idea of the school would be turned more or less topsy-turvy, for Sir John's scheme was so peculiar and his prize so munificent thatit was worth giving up everything else to try for. 

The prize itself was to consist of a free education at Cherry CourtSchool for the space of three years; accompanying it was a certificatein parchment, which in itself was to be considered a very high honor;and thirdly, a locket set with a beautiful ruby to represent a cherry, which was the badge of the school. 

When the great day arrived it was decided that the happy winner of thisgreat prize would receive the fees for a year's schooling in a pursepresented to her by Sir John himself, also the scroll of merit and thebeautiful ruby locket. 

The news of Sir John's bounty and the marvelous prize which was to beoffered to the fortunate girls was the talk of the entire school. EvenKitty, who little guessed how deeply she was concerned in the matter, could scarcely think of anything else. It diverted her mind from hercoming sorrow. On the day that the prize was formally announced shesat down to write to her father to inform him on the subject. 

"It is too wonderful, " she wrote; "I was the most miserable girl in allthe world when I got your telegram. I scarcely knew what I was doing, and then Mrs. Clavering took me into her oak parlor and told me stillfurther bad news. That I--oh, father dear, oh, father--that I was togo and live with Helen Dartmoor. How could you think of it, father?But there, she said it had to be, and I felt nearly wild. You don'tknow what I was suffering, although I tried so very hard to be brave. I am suffering still, but not quite so badly, for what do you thinkhappened in the evening. 

"You know, or perhaps you don't know, that at the end of summer thereis always such a glorious day--it is called Cherry Feast Day, and isgiven in honor of the school, which is called Cherry Court School. Thewhole day is given up to festivities of every sort and description, andall the neighborhood are invited to a great big Cherry Feast in theevening. 

"The feast is held in the walled-in garden, which is lit with coloredlanterns. In the very centre of the garden is a grass sward, thegreenest grass you ever saw, father, and, oh, so smooth--as smooth asvelvet, and on this grass, lit with fairy lamps, the girls dance allkinds of stately, wonderful, old-fashioned dances, and the neighborssit round and watch, and then at the end we all go into the house, intothe great oak hall in the middle, and Mrs. Clavering gives the prizesto the lucky girls. 

"Of course, feasts of cherries are the order of the hour, and we wearcherry ornaments if possible. You cannot imagine how full of cherrieswe are in the school, even to cherry-colored ribbons, you know. 

"Well, yesterday, when your dreadful telegram came, was the day when wewere to draw up a programme for the Cherry Feast, and when all we girlscame into the oak parlor in the evening--I mean all the girls of theUpper school, for the little ones, although they enjoy the feastsplendidly at the time, are never allowed to know much of thepreparations--well, when we were all in the oak parlor who should comein but Mrs. Clavering and such a tall, stately, splendid-looking man. His name is Sir John Wallis, and it seems, father dear, that he knowsall about you, for he called me up afterwards and spoke to me, and heput his arm round my waist, and when he said good-bye he even kissedme, and he said that you and he were some of the heroes beforeSebastopol. Oh, father, he did speak so splendidly of you, and helooked so splendid himself, I quite loved him, I did really. Butthere, how I am digressing, father!

"Mrs. Clavering gave out the programme for the day--the usual sort, youknow, the dancing on the lawn in the evening, and the crowds ofspectators, and the assembling in the big hall for the prizes to begiven out to all the lucky girls who had won them. 

"Of course, I won't get any this year. I have not been at school longenough, although I am trying and working very hard. Well, Mrs. Clavering read out the usual programme and we all stood by andlistened, and I could not help glancing at Sir John, although I had notspoken to him then, and did not know, not a bit of it, that he knewyou, darling, precious father. 

"But all of a sudden Sir John himself came forward and he took Mrs. Clavering's place on the little rostrum, as they call it, and he spokein such a loud, penetrating, and yet beautiful voice, and he said thathe, with Mrs. Clavering's permission, had a scheme to propose. 

"He began by saying how he loved the school, how he had always lovedit, how his own mother had been educated at Cherry Court School, andhow he thought there was no school like it in the world, and then hesaid that he was anxious, now that he had returned home to live and wasgrowing an old man himself, to do something for the school, and heproposed there and then to offer it a Scholarship. 

"Do you know what a scholarship is, father? I thought only men wonscholarships. Well, anyhow, he did offer a Scholarship, such amagnificent one. It was to be held by the girl who was best inconduct, best in deportment, and best in her educational work, in thefollowing October, and she was to hold it for three years, and what doyou think the scholarship was?

"Oh, was there anything so splendid! A lovely, lovely gold locket witha ruby cherry on the right side and a wonderful inscription on the leftside, and a parchment scroll, father, in which the full particulars ofthe great Scholarship were written down, and besides that, a purse ofmoney. Oh, father, a girl would not mind taking money in that way, would she?--and what was the money for?--it was to pay all her fees fora year. 

"Every expense connected with the school was to be met by thiswonderful purse of money; she was to be educated and called the CherryCourt Scholarship girl, and it was to be a wonderfully prouddistinction, I can tell you, and at the end of the year Sir John Walliswas to give another purse of money, and at the end of that year anotherpurse of money, so that the lucky girl who won the Scholarship was tobe educated free of expense for three whole years. 

"Oh, father, father! I mean to try for it--I mean to try with all mymight and main. I don't suppose I'll succeed, but I shall have such afit of trying--you never knew anything like it in your life. But doyou know, perhaps, that what Kitty tries for with all her might andsoul she generally wins. 

"Oh, dear father, this has made me quite happy and has taken off theworst of my great pain. I feel now that there is hope, for at the endof three years I shall be a well-educated girl--that is, if I win theScholarship, and then perhaps you will allow me to come out to you toIndia. I am not without hope, now, but I should be utterly andcompletely devoid of it if I had to go and live with Helen Dartmoor. 

"Your loving and excited daughter, KITTY. "

CHAPTER V. 

FLORENCE. 

It began to be whispered in the school--at first, it is true, in verylow tones and scarcely any words, but just a nod and a singleglance--that Mrs. Clavering was very anxious that Kitty should win theScholarship. 

There was really no reason for this rumor to get afloat, but beyonddoubt the rumor was afloat, was in the air, and was talked of by thegirls--at first, as I have said, scarcely at all, but by and by moreand more plainly as the hours flew on towards the Cherry Feast. 

Kitty herself knew nothing of these whispers. She was very busyplanning and reconstructing all her previous ideas with regard toeducation. Her first object was to come out one of the happy three whowere to compete for the Scholarship in the coming October. If shesucceeded in this she felt sure that all would be well. She began noweagerly to examine her companion's faces. Sometimes they turned awayfrom her bright, almost too bright, eyes, but then again they wouldlook at her with a certain compassion. 

It would be very nice, they all thought, to win the Scholarship--therewas no girl at Cherry Court School who would not feel proud to get sogreat a prize--but they also knew that what would be merely nice forthem was life or death for poor Kitty Sharston, and yet nothing hadbeen told them; they only surmised that there was a wish in Mrs. Clavering's breast that Kitty should be the lucky girl. 

On a certain afternoon about a week before the Cherry Feast, Mabel andAlice Cunningham, with Florence Aylmer and Edith King, were once moreassembled under one of the cherry trees in the cherry orchard. 

"I am sure of it, " said Alice. "Of course, it is nothing that I haveheard, but it is a sort of look in Mrs. Clavering's face, and she is soeager to give Kitty all sorts of help. She has her by herself nowevery evening to coach her for an hour. "

"Well, for my part, I don't call it a bit fair, " said Florence Aylmer. 

"Florry! Oh, surely you are not jealous, and of poor little Kitty?"

"I am not exactly jealous--oh, no, I am not jealous, " said Florence, "but it rather takes the heart out of one. If after all one's troubleand toil and exertion one gets the thing and then Mrs. Clavering isdiscontented and Kitty Sharston's heart is broken, I don't see the useof having a big fight--do you, Mabel? do you, Edith?"

"Oh, I don't know, " said Edith; "I only feel puzzled; perhaps it is amere suspicion and there is no truth in it. "

"I cannot imagine, if it is really Sir John's wish that Kitty should bethe successful competitor, why he does not give her the money straightaway and end the thing, " said Florence again. 

"But, you see, he could not do that, " said Mabel, "for Kitty is veryproud and----"

"Well, I don't like it, " said Florence, "and I tell you what it is--nowthat the whisper has got into the air, I mean to know. I shall gostraight to Mrs. Clavering and ask her. If it is true I for one willnot enter the lists at all. "

"But would you dare to ask her?" exclaimed Mabel, in a voice almost ofawe. "You know, Mrs. Clavering, although she is the kindest woman inthe world, never allows any liberties to be taken with her. I don'tthink you can dare to ask her, Florry--I really don't. "

"Oh, I shall, all the same, " replied Florence. "If this thing is fairand above board, and equal chances are given to us all, why, I shall goin for it and be delighted to have a chance, but if it is not, Kittyshall have it without much exertion, as far as I am concerned. "

She got up restlessly as she spoke, and moved towards the house. 

The day was a very hot one, and all the doors and windows stood wideopen. Sir John Wallis was standing inside the porch talking to Mrs. Clavering. 

Florence came slowly forward. Sir John held out his hand to her. 

"Well, Miss Aylmer, " he said, in his pleasant voice, "and how do thestudies get on, and are you all agog to be one of the lucky three?"

"I am not at all sure about that, " said Florence; "I was coming to you, Mrs. Clavering, to speak about it. "

"Why, what can be wrong?" said the baronet; "I thought that you wereone of the most promising pupils and had a very good chance. "

"But what, " said Florence, her face suddenly blazing into color, andher eyes fixing themselves first on Sir John's face and then on that ofMrs. Clavering, "what if you don't want me to win the prize!"

"Don't want you--what nonsense!" said Mrs. Clavering, but she coloredfaintly as she spoke. 

Sir John gave Florence a very keen glance. 

"I may as well speak out now that I am about it, " continued the girl. "There is a rumor in the school--I cannot tell you who started it, butthere is a rumor--that you, Sir John, want Kitty to get the prize. "

"It is perfectly true that I should like her to get it, " said Sir John, instantly, "but the prize shall be bestowed upon the girl who comes outbest in deportment, best in conduct, and best in learning, whether sheis Kitty Sharston or another. Now, that is all, Florence Aylmer. Ihave spoken. Don't, I beg of you, say a word of what you have justsaid to me to Kitty herself. You have all equal chances. If Kittyfails she fails. I shall be disappointed, but I shall honor the girlwho wins the great prize all the same. "

"Thank you, " replied Florence. She entered the hall; a moment laterMrs. Clavering followed her. 

"My dear, " she said, "what is wrong with you? I would not know youwith that expression on your face. "

"Things seem very hard, " said Florence. "At first, when the prize wasmentioned, it seemed quite too delicious, for you know, dear Mrs. Clavering, that I am poor, too, and if I were to win the prize it wouldbe only too delightful; but if you do not wish me to take it"--tearsfilled her eyes; one of them rolled down her cheeks. 

"I do heartily wish you to have it if you really win it, Florence. Thecompetition is an open one, rest assured of that; and now, my dear, cease to think unkind thoughts of Kitty, and, above all things, don'tbreathe a word of what you have just said to me to her. "

"That I promise, " said Florence, but she went upstairs feelingdiscontented and depressed. 

She sat down to write a letter to her mother. 

"Dear mother, " she wrote, "we are trying for an extraordinary prizehere, quite a valuable Scholarship, such as are given to men at theUniversities, and I am going to have a big try for it, but I shouldlike to talk things over with you. I wonder if Aunt Susan would riseto the occasion, and let me have a third-class return ticket toDawlish, and if you, Mummy, could secure a tiny room for me nextyourself. I want to spend a week with you during the coming holidays. I have a good deal to say and am rather anxious and miserable. Try andarrange it with Aunt Susan. It won't cost very much really, and Ipromise to return at the end of a week. 

"Your loving daughter, "FLORENCE. "

"P. S. --I shall eat very little and be satisfied with the plainestfood. You might mention that to Aunt Susan when you are writing. "

"P. S. 2. --There is a new girl at the school; she came just at thebeginning of term, but I never mentioned her name to you before. Sheis called Kitty Sharston, and I think she has a very great chance ofwinning the Scholarship. She is rather an awkward kind of girl, butwill be handsome by and by. She is a great friend of Sir John Wallis, the man who is the patron of the school, and who is giving theScholarship. I mean to have a good try for the Scholarship, Mummy, dear. Be sure you say so to Aunt Susan when you ask her for mythird-class fare to Dawlish. Good-bye again, Mummy dear. FLORENCE. "

Having written this letter Florence uttered a sigh of relief, put itinto its envelope, addressed it, stamped it, and ran downstairs to putit in the school letter-box. Just as she was in the act of doing sothe chaise drew up at the front door, a tall soldierly man got out, hecame into the porch, and just as he was about to ring the bell, hiseyes met those of Florence. 

"This is Cherry Court School, is it not?" he said, taking off his hatto the girl. 

"Yes, " replied Florence; "can I do anything for you, sir?"

"My name is Major Sharston. I have come to see my daughter; can youtell me where I shall find her?"

"Are you indeed Kitty's father?" said Florence, her heart now shiningout of her eyes. She had beautiful eyes, dark grey with very long, black lashes. Her face, which was somewhat pale, was quite quiveringwith emotion. 

"Yes, I am Kitty's father, " was the reply. "Shall I go into the house, and will you be kind enough to tell her that I am here; or perhaps, "added the Major, looking as wistful as Florence herself, "you mighttake me to her straight away?"

"I will take you to her straight away, that's just it, " said Florence. She turned back to drop her letter into the school letter-box, and thenconducted the Major across the lawn and into the outer garden. In thisgarden every old-fashioned flower imaginable bloomed and thrived, andreared its graceful head. The Major walked down through great lines oftall hollyhocks and peonies of every color and description. Then hepassed under a sweet-briar hedge and then along a further hedge ofScotch roses, red and white; and the scent from mignonette and sweetpeas and the sweet-briar and the roses came up to his nostrils. Neverto the longest day of his life did the Major forget the sweet scent ofthe old-fashioned garden and the pain at his heart all the time, for hewas going to see Kitty, to bid her good-bye for years--perhaps, whocould tell? for ever. 

Florence seemed to guess some of his feelings, though she did not knowthe actual story, for Kitty was very reserved and kept her troubles toherself. The Major made no remark about the garden, which in itselfwas somewhat curious, for strangers were always in raptures over thisold-world garden, with its yew-trees cut in quaint shapes, and its highwalls, and its flowers, which seemed, every one of them, to belong tothe past. 

At last the Major and Florence reached the postern-gate which openedinto the cherry orchard, and then Florence stood still and raised hervoice and called, "Kitty! Kitty Sharston!" and there came an answeringcall, clear and high as a bird's, and the next instant Kitty, in herwhite summer dress, was seen emerging from under the cherry-trees. Shesaw her father, uttered a cry half of rapture, half of pain, and thenext instant was clasped in his arms. Florence saw the Major's armsfold around Kitty, and a queer lump rose in her throat and she wentaway all by herself. Somehow, at that moment she felt that she sharedMrs. Clavering's wish that Kitty Sharston should get the prize. 

"Although it means a great deal to me, a great deal more than anyonecan guess, " thought Florry to herself, "for Aunt Susan is never verykind to the dear little mother, and she makes such a compliment ofgiving her that money term after term, and she insists on doingeverything in the very cheapest way. Why will she not, " continuedFlorence, looking down at her dress as she spoke, "why will she notgive me decent clothes like other girls! I never have anything pretty. It is brown holland all during the summer, the coarsest brown holland, and it is the coarsest blue serge during the winter; never, neveranything else--no style, no fashion, no pretty ribbons, not even acherry ribbon for my hair, and so little pocket-money, oh! solittle--only a penny a week. What can a girl do with a penny a week?Of course, she does allow me a few stamps, just a very few, to sendMummy letters, but she does keep me so terribly close. Sometimes I canscarcely bear the life. Oh, what a difference the Scholarship wouldmake, and Sir John Wallis would think a great deal of me, and so wouldMrs. Clavering. Why, I should be the show girl of the school, theCherry Court Scholarship girl; it would be splendid, quite splendid!But then Kitty, poor Kitty, and what a look the Major had on his face!I wonder what can be wrong? Oh dear! oh, dear! my heart is torn intwo. Why do I long beyond all words to win the prize, and why, why doI hate taking it from Kitty Sharston?"

CHAPTER VI. 

KITTY AND HER FATHER. 

Meanwhile the Major and Kitty went away by themselves. As soon asKitty had hugged her father, one close, passionate, voiceless hug, shereleased him, stepped back a pace, looked him in the face, and thensaid eagerly, "Come away quickly, father; there is a meadow at the backof the cherry orchard which we can have quite to ourselves. Come atonce. Did Mrs. Clavering send you out here? How good of her to let mesee you alone!"

"She does not even know that I have come, Kitty, " replied her father. "I met a girl--I don't know what her name is--just as I reached theporch, and she took me to you. I cannot stay very long, my love, as Imust get back to Chatham to-night. "

"All right, " said Kitty; "let us make for the meadow; there is a bigoak-tree and we can sit under it and no one need see us. We must bealone all, all during the time that you are here. "

The Major said nothing. Kitty linked her hand through his arm. Shewas feeling wildly excited--her father and she were together. It mightbe an hour, or it might be two hours, that they were to spend together, but the time was only beginning now. They were together, and she feltall the warm glow of love, all the ecstasy of perfect happiness intheir reunion. 

They reached the oak-tree in the meadow, the Major sat down, and Kittythrew herself by his side. 

"Well, Kitty, " he said, "what is this that I hear? I read your letter;it is quite a wonderful letter, little girl. It was the sort of lettera brave girl would write. "

"The sort of letter a girl would write whose father was a hero beforeSebastopol, " said Kitty. 

"What has put that in you head, my darling?"

"Sir John Wallis spoke of it. Oh, father dear, won't you go and seeSir John Wallis--he is so nice and so kind? You were both heroesbefore Sebastopol, were you not, father dearest, you and he?"

"We were in the trenches and we suffered a good bit, " said the Major, agrim smile on his face, "but those are bygone times, Kitty. "

"All the same they are times that can never be forgotten while Englishhistory lasts, " said Kitty with a proud sparkle in her eyes. 

"Well, no, little girl, I don't suppose England will ever forget themen who fought for her, " replied the Major; "but we won't waste timetalking on these matters now, my child; we have much else to say. "

"What, father?"

"Well, your letter for instance; and you greatly dislike going to staywith Helen Dartmoor?"

Kitty's face turned pale; she had been rosy up to now. The roses fadedout of her cheeks, then her lips turned white, and the brightness lefther eyes. 

"I should hate it, " she said; "there are no other words. "

"And you think there is just an off chance that you may win thiswonderful Scholarship?"

"I mean to have the biggest try a girl ever had, and you know yourKitty, " replied the girl. 

"Yes, I know my brave, brave Kitty, the girl who has clung to herfather through thick and thin, who has always tried to please him, whohas a spirit of her own. "

"Which I inherit from you, " said Kitty. "Oh, I have lots of faults; Ican be so cheeky when I like, and so naughty about rules, but somehownothing, nothing ever frightens me, except the thought of going toHelen Dartmoor. You see, father, dear, it would be so hopeless. Youcannot take the hope out of anybody's life and expect the person to dowell, can you, father? Do speak, father--can you?"

"No, my child, I know that, but even if you have to go to her, Kitty, remember that I am working very hard for you--that as soon as possibleI will make a home for you, and you shall come to me. "

"How long will you be in India, father?"

"I do not know, my child. The appointment which I have just receivedunder Government I can, I believe, retain as long as I please. My ideais, darling, to do very good service for our Government, and to inducethem to send me into a healthy place. "

"But where are you going now?" said Kitty; "Is the place not healthy, is your life to be endangered?"

"No, I am too seasoned for that, " replied the Major, in a very cheerfultone which, alas! he was far from feeling. "You need not be a scrapanxious, my love, " he added; "the place would not suit a young thinglike you, but a seasoned old subject like myself is safe enough. Neveryou fear, Kitty mine. "

"But go on, father; you have more to say, haven't you?"

"Yes, Kitty, I have more to say and the time is very brief. If you winthe Scholarship, well and good. You will be well educated, and my mindwill be relieved of an untold load of care. But, of course, darling, there is a possibility of your failing, for the Scholarship is an openone, and there are other girls in the school, perhaps as clever, asdetermined, as full of zeal as you, my Kitty. "

"I am afraid, father, dear, there are other girls much cleverer thanyour Kitty, who know a vast lot more, and who are very full of zeal. But, " added the young girl, and now she clasped her hands and sprang toher feet, "there is no one who has the motive I have, and this willcarry me through. I mean first of all to come out one of the luckythree--that's certain. "

"When is the preliminary examination to take place, Kitty?"

"On the day of the Cherry Feast, " replied Kitty. 

"Well, dear, I have been thinking matters over. If you fail you fail, but I am determined to give you this chance. I shall see Mrs. Clavering before I leave and arrange that you are to stay with heruntil October; then if you win the Scholarship your future is arranged;you take your three years' education, and then by hook or by crook, mydarling, you come out to me to India, for by then, unless I am vastlymistaken, I shall have got into a hill station where it will be safefor you to stay with me. "

"Oh, you darling, how heavenly it will be!" said Kitty. She clungclose to her father, flung her arms round his neck, laid her head onhis breast, and looked at him with eyes swimming in tears. 

"Oh, I am not a bit unhappy, though I cry, " she said, "it is onlybecause I feel your goodness so much, for though I would have triedaway with Helen Dartmoor I should not have had the chance I shall havehere, for Mrs. Clavering is very good, and I know she wants me to getthe prize, only she feels that I must compete fairly with the othergirls. "

"Of course, you must compete fairly with the other girls, Kitty, " saidher father; "if I thought there was any special favoritism in this, well--" His bronzed cheeks flushed, an indignant light fired his eyes. 

"What, father?"

"I am a proud man, Kitty, and Helen Dartmoor is your cousin, and wouldkeep you for the very small sum which it is in my power to offer her. "

"Your pride shall not be hurt, father, darling. I will win theScholarship honorably and in open fight. "

"That is my own Kitty. "

"I vow I'll win it, " said the girl. 

The Major smiled at her. "You must not be too sure, " he said, "or youwill be doubly disappointed if you fail. And now there is one thingmore to be said, and then we can talk on other matters. If you dofail, my Kitty, you will go to Helen Dartmoor with a heart and a half. "

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you will go to her and not allow hope to die out of yourbreast; you will go as a brave girl should, making the best of whatseems an adverse circumstance. If you do this, Kitty, it will besevere discipline, but not too severe discipline for a soldier'sdaughter. Never forget that, my dear, and that, one way or other, atthe end of the three years you come out to me. "

"When I come out to you, " said Kitty, "I want you to be proud of me. Iwant you to say, 'My girl is a lady, my girl knows things, she is notignorant, she can deport herself well, and act well and she knowsthings. ' But in any case, father, whether I am ignorant or whether Iam not, I promise--yes, I promise--to make the best of circumstances. "

"Then God bless you, child, you are your mother's own girl. "

"And yours--yours, " said Kitty, in a low tone of mingled pain and love. 

"We will go back to the house, and I will see Mrs. Clavering, andafterwards I will ask her permission to let me take you up to see SirJohn Wallis, for, strange as it may seem, I have lost sight of Wallisfor quite fifteen years--such are the fortunes of war, my love. Wewere brothers, standing shoulder to shoulder during a momentous year ofour lives, and since then Sir John retired from the service, and I haveheard and seen nothing of him. It was almost immediately afterwards, Ibelieve, that he came in for the great property and the title which henow possesses. But come, Kitty, we have not much time to lose. "

Kitty never forgot the rest of that afternoon, for she and her fatherhad so much to do, so many people to see, and so many things toarrange, that time flew on wings, and it was not until the last momentwhen the parting really came that she realized all it meant to her. 

There was a hurried clasp in the strongest, bravest arms in all theworld, a brief kiss on her cheek, a look in her father's eyes which wasenough to stimulate the highest in any girl's heart, and then theparting was over. 

The Major had left Cherry Court School, having given all possibledirections for his little girl's comfort and well-being, and had goneaway sorely broken down, crushed to the earth himself, but leavingKitty with a courage which did not falter during the days which were tocome. For the Major knew that, strong as he was, he was going to apart of India where brave men as strong as he are stricken down yearafter year by the unhealthy climate, and three years even at the bestwas a long time to part with a girl like Kitty, particularly when shewas the only child he had, the light of his eyes, the darling of hisheart. 

CHAPTER VII. 

CHERRY-COLORED RIBBONS. 

The day of the Cherry Feast dawned bright and glorious. The girlsawoke in the early morning of that splendid summer day, feeling thatsomething very delightful was about to happen. One after another theypeeped out and saw the sun on the grass and heard the birds sing andfelt the soft zephyrs of the summer breeze blowing on their cheeks. Then they returned back again to their different little beds in theirdifferent dormitories, and remarked with intense satisfaction that thelong wished-for day had come, and that to-morrow they were all goinghome--home for the holidays. Could anything be more fascinating, stimulating, and delightful? And each girl hoped to go back again tothe beloved home with honor, for Mrs. Clavering had a wonderful waywith her pupils, a very stimulating way, and she so arranged her prizesand her certificates that no girl who had really worked, who had reallytaken pains, was excluded from distinction. It was only the hopelesslyidle, the hopelessly disobedient, who could leave Cherry Court Schoolwithout some token of its mistress's sympathy, regard, andencouragement. 

Kitty Sharston was too new a scholar to expect to get any reward in theordinary sense of this term, but, all the same, she had worked fairlywell, and during the last three weeks had tackled her studies andregulated her conduct like a veritable little Trojan. Every moment ofKitty's day was now marked out. There was never an instant that shewas off guard with regard to herself; there was no time left in herbusy life for reckless speeches and reckless deeds. The goal setbefore her was such a high one, the motive to struggle for pre-eminencewas so strong, that Kitty was quite carried along by the current. Hernatural keen intelligence stood her in good stead, her marks forpunctuality, for neatness, for early rising were all good, and she hadlittle, very little fear of the results of this afternoon's briefexamination. 

The examination was to be very short, and was to be conducted on thisspecial occasion by no less a person than Sir John Wallis himself. Mrs. Clavering having reckoned up the marks, Mademoiselle Le Brunhaving given her testimony, Fraulein having given hers, and the Englishteachers having further testified to the industry of the pupils, thegirls of the Upper school were to pass muster before Sir John, who wasto decide without prejudice in favor of the lucky three who alone wereto compete for the great Scholarship in October. 

Florence and Kitty were in the same class in school, and up to the dateof the offering of the Scholarship had been excellent friends. Theywere still friends as far as Kitty was concerned, for she was agenerous-hearted girl, and although the winning of the prize meanteverything almost in her life, did another girl take it from her fairlyand honorably in open fight, she would resign it without a trace ofill-will or any sore feeling towards the winner. But there were thingsin Florence's life which made her now look aloof at Kitty. She hadbeen receiving letters from her mother, and the mother had been askingthe girl strange questions, and Mrs. Aylmer was not a woman of loftyprinciple nor of strong courage, and some of the jealous thoughts inFlorence's heart had been fanned into flame by her mother's injudiciouswords. So on the day of the great Cherry Feast she awoke with aheadache, and, turning away from Kitty, who looked at her with anxious, affectionate eyes, she proceeded to dress quickly and hurried off tothe school-room. 

The dormitory in which Kitty slept was a long, low room with a slopingroof. It ran the whole width of the house, and was occupied by Kittyherself, by Mabel and Alice Cunningham, by Edith King, and by FlorenceAylmer. Each girl had her little cubicle or division curtained offfrom her fellows, where she could sleep and where she could retire, ifnecessary, into a sort of semi-solitude. But one-half of the dormitorywas open to all the girls, and they often drew their curtains aside andchatted and talked and laughed as they dressed and undressed, for Mrs. Clavering, contrary to most of the school-mistresses of her day, gaveher girls a certain amount of liberty. They were not, for instance, required to talk French in the dormitories, and they were alwaysallowed, provided they got into bed within certain limits and dressedwithin certain limits, to have freedom when in their rooms. They neverdreamt of abusing these privileges, and better, healthier, brightergirls could not be found in the length and breadth of England. 

"Well, I am glad the day has come at last, " said Edith, as she rosethat morning with a yawn. "Oh, dear, and it's going to be splendid, too. Kitty, what dress are you going to wear at the festival to-night?"

Kitty replied with a smile that she meant to wear her Indian muslin. 

"And have you got your cherry-colored ribbons?" said Edith; "we allwear bunches of cherry ribbons in the front of our dresses and tyingback our hair. Have you got yours, Kitty?"

"Yes, " replied Kitty; "father sent me a quantity of cherry-coloredribbons last week. "

She hardly ever mentioned her father's name, and the girls did not liketo question her. Now she turned her head aside, and proceeded hastilywith her dressing. 

"Well, it is going to be a splendid day, " said Alice, "and, you know, there are no lessons of any sort; all the examinations are over and theresults will be known to-night; the day is to be a long and happyone--no lessons, nothing to do except to wander about and pleaseourselves; pack our trunks, of course, which will be truly a delightfuloccupation. Think of the joys of the evening and the further delightsof to-morrow. I expect to reach home about six o'clock in the evening. When will you get to your place, Edith?"

"A little later than you, " replied Edith, "for it is farther away, butfather and mother have promised to come and meet me at Canterbury. Ishall reach Canterbury about six o'clock in the evening. We have tenmiles to drive then, so I don't suppose I shall be home till half-pastseven. The boys are going to make a bonfire; there is to be no end offun--there always is when I come home for the summer holidays. "

Kitty gave a faint sigh and there came a cruel pang at her heart. Sheand Florence Aylmer were to spend the holidays together. She had triedto think she would enjoy this solitary time, but in her heart of heartsshe knew that she had to make a great struggle with herself. 

"But, never mind, " she muttered now softly under her breath, "I shallspend most of the hours in studying; there is so much to get throughbefore the Scholarship exam. Comes off in October, and I know Florencewill study, too, and, of course, I shan't be at all jealous of her, andif she does succeed in winning the prize, why, I will just rememberfather's words and make the best of things, whatever happens. " But thenext moment she was saying fiercely under her breath, "I shall win, Iwill win; whatever happens, I will, I must win. "

The girls went down to breakfast, which was a very sociable meal thatmorning, the English tongue being allowed to be spoken, and the usualrestrictions all being utterly withdrawn. 

Florence appeared then and took her place at the table; she looked alittle pale and untidy, and her eyes were red as if she had beensecretly crying. More than one girl glanced at her and wondered whatwas the matter. When breakfast was over Kitty went up to Florence, slipped her hand through her arm, and pulled her out into the sunshine. 

"Is anything wrong, Florry?" she said. 

"Oh, it's only that beastly mean Aunt Susan, " retorted Florence, shrugging her shoulders. 

"Your Aunt Susan?"

"Yes, of course; you have heard me talk of her. I am dependent on her, you know; oh, it's the most hateful position for any girl!"

"I am very sorry, and I quite understand, " said Kitty. 

"I don't believe you do; you have never been put in such an odiousplight. For instance, you have cherry-colored ribbons to wearto-night, have you not?"

"Such beauties, " replied Kitty; "father sent them to me a week ago. Ayard and a half to make the bunch for the front of my dress, and a yardand a half to tie up my hair--three yards; and such a lovely, lovelycolor, and such soft ribbon, corded silk on one side, and satin at theother. Oh, it is beautiful. "

"Yes, of course, it is beautiful, " said Florence; "you have told usabout those ribbons a great many times. " Florence could not help hervoice being tart, and Kitty looked at her in some astonishment. 

"But all the same, " she said, "you're glad I have got cherry-coloredribbons, are you not?"

"I don't know, " replied Florence, flushing; "I believe I hate you forhaving them. There, I'm nothing if I'm not frank. "

"You hate me for having them? Oh, Florry, but you cannot be so mean. "

"I wrote to Aunt Susan myself--there was no time to tackle her in aroundabout way through mother. I wrote to her and got her reply thismorning. She sent me--what do you think? Instead of the beautifulribbons which I asked for, three yards of which are absolutelynecessary to make even a show of a decent appearance, six stamps! Sixstamps, I assure you, to buy what I could for myself! Did you everhear of anything so miserably mean? Oh, I hate her, I do hate her!"

"Poor Florence!" said Kitty; "but you must have the ribbons somehow, must you not?"

"I must; I dare not appear without. Mademoiselle Le Brun is going intoHilchester immediately after breakfast, and I am going to ask her toget me the best she can, but, of course, she will get nothing worthhaving for sixpence--a yard and a half at the most of some horridcottony stuff which will look perfectly dreadful. It is mean of AuntSusan, and you know, Kitty, " continued Florence, her tone softening atthe evident sympathy with which Kitty regarded her, "I am always soshabbily dressed; I wouldn't be a bit bad-looking if I had decentclothes. I saved up all the summer to have my muslin dress nicelywashed for this occasion, but it's so thick and so clumsy and--oh, dear! oh, dear! sometimes I hate myself, Kitty, and when I look at youI hate myself more than ever. "

"Why when you look at me? I am very sorry for you, Florence. "

"Because you are so generous and so good, and I am just the other way. But there, don't talk to me any more. I must rush off; I want to haveanother look through those geography questions; there is no saying whatSir John Wallis may question us about to-night, and if I don't get intothe lucky three who are to compete for the Scholarship, I believe I'llgo off my head. "

Florence dashed away as she spoke and rushed into the school-room, slamming the door behind her. Kitty stood for a moment looking afterher. As she did so Mary Bateman, the stolid-looking girl in the Upperschool, came slowly up. 

"A penny for your thoughts, Kitty Sharston, " she said. 

"They are not worth even that, " said Kitty. "Where are you going, Mary?"

"Into the cherry orchard; we are all to pick cherries for to-night'sfeast. By the way, will you be my partner in the minuet? You dance itso beautifully. "

Kitty hesitated, and a comical look came into her face. 

"You know we are to open the proceedings by dancing the old-fashionedminuet, " continued Mary Bateman; "on the lawn, of course, with thecolored lamps lighting us up. I believe I can do fairly well if I haveyou for my partner, for although you are awkward enough you dancebeautifully. "

"I'll be your partner if you like, " said Kitty, with a sigh, "but lookhere, Mary, when is Mademoiselle Le Brun going into Hilchester?"

"I did not know she was going at all, " replied Mary; "do you want herto buy you anything'?"

"I am not quite sure, but I'd like to see her before she goes. "

"Well, there she is, and there's the pony cart coming round. I expectshe has to buy a lot of things for Mrs. Clavering. Run up to her ifyou want to give her a message, Kitty. Hullo, mademoiselle, will youwait a minute for Kitty Sharston--she wants to say something to you?"

But Kitty stood still. There was a battle going on in her heart. Shehad very little pocket-money, very little indeed, but when her fatherwas saying good-bye to her he had put two new half-crowns into her hand. 

"Keep them unbroken as long as you can, Kitty, " he said. "The moneywill be something to fall back upon in a time of need. " And fiveshillings was a large sum for the Major to give Kitty just then, andKitty cherished those two half-crowns very dearly, more dearly thananything else in the world, for they had been her father's last, verylast present to her. 

But perhaps the hour of need had come. This was the thought thatdarted into her heart, for Florence did want those cherry-coloredribbons, and Florence's heart was sore, and things were nearly as badfor her as they were for Kitty herself. Kitty had a brief struggle, and then she made up her mind. 

"One moment, mademoiselle; I won't keep you any time, " she called outto the governess, who nodded back to her with a pleased smile on herface, for Kitty was a universal favorite. 

Then the young girl rushed upstairs to her dormitory, unlocked herlittle private drawer, took out her sealskin purse, extracted one ofthe new half-crowns, and was down again by the little governess cart, whispering eagerly to Mademoiselle Le Brun, within the prescribed time. 

"All right, " said mademoiselle; "I'll do the very best I can. "

"And have the parcel directed to Florence, " said Kitty, "for I don'twant her to know about my giving it to her; I am sure she would rathernot. If there is any change from the half-crown you can let me have itback, can you not, mademoiselle?"

"I'll see to that, " said mademoiselle; "there is Florence's ownsixpence towards it, you know. Oh I daresay I can give you a shillingback and get very good ribbon. "

"Well, be sure it is soft and satiny and with no cotton in it, " calledKitty again, and then the governess cart rolled down the avenue and waslost to view. 

Notwithstanding that she had only half a crown in that sealskin purseKitty felt strangely exultant and happy when she ran back to the cherryorchard and helped her companions in gathering the ripe fruit. 

She had put on a large blue apron, for cherries stain a good deal whenthey are as luscious as those in Cherry Court orchard, and quantitieshad to be picked, for it was the custom from time immemorial for eachof the guests to take a basket of cherries away with them, and thebaskets themselves--long, low, broad, and ornamental--were filled nowfirst with cherry-leaves, and then with fruit, by the excited and happygirls. 

After Kitty had spent an hour or two in the cherry orchard she ran intothe house, washed her face and hands, smoothed her hair, and ran downto the school-room, for she too wanted to look through her examinationpapers. They were not difficult, and she was very quick and ready atacquiring knowledge, and she soon felt certain that she could answerall the questions, and, having folded them up, she replaced them in herdesk. 

It was the custom of the school that each girl should keep her desklocked, and Kitty now slipped the key of hers into her pocket. As shedid so the door was opened and Florence came in. Florence looked paleand _distrait_. 

"Do you know, " she said, "I have got the most racking headache; Iwonder if you would hear me through my English History questions, Kitty. It would be awfully kind of you. I am so wretched about everything and things seem so hopeless, and it is so perfectly miserable tothink of spending all the holidays here, for I don't believe Mrs. Clavering is going to take us to the seaside after all. Really, Ithink life is not worth living sometimes. "

"Oh, but it is, " said Kitty, "and we are only preparing for lifenow--don't forget that, Florry. "

"I can't take a high and mighty view of anything just now, " saidFlorence; "I am cross, and that's a fact. I wish I wasn't going to thefeast to-night. If it were not for the chance of being one of thelucky three in the Scholarship competition I wouldn't appear on thescenes at all, I vow I would not, with that horrid bit of cottonycherry-colored ribbon--yes, I vow I wouldn't. Why, Kitty, how you havestained your dress; you must have knelt on a cherry when you werepicking them just now in the orchard. "

"So I have; what a pity!" said Kitty. She glanced down at the deep redstain, and then added, "I'll run upstairs presently and wash it out. "

"Well, don't catch cold, whatever you do. But stay, won't you firsthear me my English History questions?"

Kitty immediately complied. Yes, Florence was stupid; she did not halfknow her questions; her replies were wide of the mark. Kitty felt atfirst distressed and then very determined. 

"Look here, Florence, " she said, "this will never do; you must workthrough that portion of English History all the afternoon, and I willhelp you to the very best of my ability. I happen to know the time ofQueen Elizabeth so well, for it was a favorite time with my father. Healways loved those old stories of the great worthies who lived in thetime of Queen Elizabeth. Yes, I'll help you. Shall we read thesechapters of history together this afternoon?"

"I cannot, I cannot, " said Florence. "My head aches and everythingseems hopeless. Why, if that is so, Kitty, I shan't even have a chanceof being one of the lucky three. "

"Oh, yes, you will--you must, " said Kitty. "Half of the pleasure ofthe competition would be lost if you and I were not to work togetherduring the holidays. "

"Well, there is something in that, " said Florence, brightening as shespoke. "I forgot when I spoke so dismally that you, too, were to spendthe holidays here. By the way, has your father sailed yet?"

"On Monday last, " said Kitty, in a very low voice. She turned her headaside as she spoke. 

"I believe you are the bravest girl in the world, " said Florence, stoutly; "but there, you are a great deal too good for me. I wish youwere naughty sometimes, such as you used to be, daring and a littledefiant and a little indifferent to rules, but you are so changed sincethe Scholarship has come to the fore. Does it mean a great deal toyou, Kitty?"

"I can't talk of it, " said Kitty, "I'd rather not; we are both to tryfor it; I believe it means a great deal to us both. "

"It means an immensity to me, " said Florence. 

"Then it is not fair for us to talk it over when we are both going totry our hardest to win it, are we not?"

"If that is the case why do you help me with my English History?"

"Because I should like you to be one of the lucky three. "

"Are you certain? Although I don't know this history very well, Ishall be a dangerous rival, that I promise. "

"I don't care; I mean to win if I can, but I should like to competewith you, " said Kitty, stoutly. 

At that moment the sounds of wheels in the avenue was heard, and amoment or two afterwards Mademoiselle Le Brun entered the school-roomand put a little parcel into Florence's hand. 

"There, my dear, " she said. 

Florence let it lie just where it was. 

"Thank you, " she answered; "you did your best?"

"Yes, dear, I did my best. "

The governess left the room without even glancing at Kitty. Kitty feltherself coloring; she bent low, allowing her curly hair to fall overher face and forehead. 

A moment later there came an exclamation from Florence. 

"Oh, I say, Kitty, what does this mean--look, do look!"

Kitty looked up. The flush had left her face now, and it was cool andcomposed as usual. 

"Why, Florry, " she exclaimed, "she has got you three yards, and it isabsolutely beautiful, satiny and smooth, and not a scrap of cotton inthe ribbon, and such a sweet color. What does it mean?"

"Kitty, do you understand?" said Florence. 

"I am so glad you have got it, " said Kitty, in a quiet voice; "yes, itis lovely ribbon; perhaps they had a cheap sale or something. "

"Perhaps, " said Florence, "but all the same I don't believe this ribboncould have been bought for twopence a yard. I must speak tomademoiselle; she could not--oh, no, no, that isimpossible--mademoiselle is very poor and stingy--but what does itmean?"

"It means that you are going to wear cherry-colored ribbons to-night, doesn't it?" said Kitty, "and now cheer up, do, Florry, and work awayat your history. I must run off now to wash my hands before dinner. "

CHAPTER VIII. 

THE LETTER. 

After dinner Mrs. Clavering called the girls of the Upper school intothe oak parlor. 

"My dears, " she said, "I won't keep you a minute, but I have just had aletter from Sir John Wallis, and he wishes me to say that he would likethe girls who are to compete for the preliminary examination for theScholarship to write their answers to the English History questions. He has sent over the questions in this envelope, and you can all readthem, and you are to write your answers in advance, and fold them upand put them into envelopes for him to open and read to-night. Ibelieve there are ten questions, but his rule is that you are none ofyou to be helped by any book in the answers, and that no one girl is toassist another. That is all, my dears; you can go into the school-roomand get the matter through in less than an hour if you like. And nowhurry away, for there is no time to lose. I will have the questionpinned 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, busilyanswering Sir John Wallis's questions on the reign of Queen Elizabeth. 

When Mrs. Clavering had made her statement Florence had cast oneanxious, half-despairing glance in Kitty's direction, and Kitty hadslowly raised her arched eyebrows and looked at her friend withcompassion and distress. 

Kitty now walked quickly to her desk, glanced at the questions, andwrote the answers in a good bold, firm hand. 

Her early training with her father stood her in excellent stead, andshe was able to give a vivid account of the Spanish Armada and of othergreat events in the reign of good Queen Bess. She felt quite cheerfuland hopeful as she wrote her answers, expressing them in good English, and taking great pains to be correct with regard to spelling. At lastthey were finished. She slipped them into her envelope, put them backin her desk, and left the room. As she did so she passed Florence, whose cheeks were flushed like peonies, and who was bending in somedespair over her paper, for Florence was well known in the school to beignorant as regarded all matters connected with history, although shewas smart enough in her own line. 

"Poor Florry, I am sorry for her, " thought Kitty. Then she went awayto her room and employed her spare time writing a long letter to herfather, and did not give Florence any more thought. 

Meanwhile Mabel and Alice Cunningham, Mary Bateman, Bertha Kennedy, andEdith King, one and all answered the English History questions; theyslipped them into envelopes, and put them into their desks. They alsoleft the room, and Florence was alone in the school-room. 

When she found herself so she threw back her head, uttered a greatyawn, and then glanced in despair at the ten very comprehensivequestions set by Sir John Wallis. 

"I shall never answer them, " she said to herself; "it is quiteimpossible. I have not the faintest idea what he means by questionfive, for instance. She hated Mary Queen of Scots, I know that, andshe got her to be imprisoned, I know that also; but what is the storyin connection with the Earl of Leicester? I cannot, cannot rememberit. Oh, how tiresome, how more than tiresome--this may lose me mychance with the lucky three, for Alice Cunningham is trying quite hard, and Edith King is having a regular fight over the matter; and ofcourse, there is no doubt that Kitty Sharston will be elected to tryfor the Scholarship, but I--yes, I must be elected--I will; but whatshall I do?"

Florence paced restlessly up and down the school-room. As she did soshe suddenly perceived with a quickening of her heart's pulses thatKitty through an oversight had left the key in her desk; all the othergirls had locked their desks; but Kitty, who was generally carefulenough in this matter, had left the key in hers. 

Nothing in all the world would be easier than for Florence to openKitty's desk, to take out the envelope which contained her replies tothe English History questions, and to glance at the momentous questionwhich related to the Earl of Leicester. Right or wrong, Florence feltshe must stoop to this mean action. 

"After all, being included in the lucky three does not mean winning theScholarship, " she said to herself, "and I should so like to be one ofthe three. I think I will take one look; there is no one in the houseat present. I saw Kitty cross the courtyard and go in the direction ofthe garden not half an hour ago. No one will know, and I shall have anequal chance with the others; if not, I shall fail, and to fail nowwould drive me mad. "

Just at that moment Florence, who had approached the window in herrestless pacing up and down, saw the postboy enter the courtyard. Sheran out to meet him. He brought several letters, and amongst othersone for Florence from her mother. She took it back with her to theschoolroom. 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 succeedin being elected as one of the three who are to compete for Sir JohnWallis's Scholarship, I shall certainly contrive to give you a week atDawlish 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, mydear child, for there is more in this than meets the eye. It will makethe most immense difference in your life, my dear Florence, if you gainthis Scholarship, and also in the life of your affectionate mother. Imay as well add here that your Aunt Susan becomes more intolerable dayby day, and it is extremely probable that she will soon cease to payyour school fees at all. If that is the case, my dear, I really do notknow what is to become of you, as I certainly cannot afford to meetthem. Try your best for the Scholarship, dear. If you win it write tome 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 shehad crossed the room, had opened Kitty's desk, and taken out theenvelope with its folded sheet of paper within. She unfolded the paperand glanced at its contents. One quick glance was sufficient. She putback the paper into the envelope, shut Kitty's desk, and returned toher own. 

Her cheeks were redder than ever and her heart was beating wildly, butshe knew what she wanted to know. Florence folded up her own sheet ofpaper, put it into its envelope, and laid it in her desk. She feltpretty certain now of being elected as one of the lucky three, and noone 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 JohnWallis, Kitty would have helped her with her English History all theafternoon. Now, of course, she could not ask her, but never mind, sheknew what she wanted to know. 

Her heart felt a little uncomfortable, and, notwithstanding the hopethat she might spend a week at Dawlish with her mother, to whom she wasdevotedly attached, and the further hope of taking an honorable placein the coming competition, she felt a queer sense of depression. 

She was just preparing to leave the school-room when the door openedand 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 yetfor getting me that lovely ribbon. How was it you managed to get it socheaply?"

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 wasstill high in the heavens, for on this midsummer day it would take along time before the evening arrived. Florence's heart beat harderthan ever, for suddenly her eyes were opened, and she knew how she hadgot the cherry-colored ribbon. Kitty had given it to her, and Florencehad 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 gothrough 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 fallenin her path at any cost. 

The evening drew on apace, and the whole school was in a perfect feverof excitement. The girls came up to their different dormitories todress for the occasion. 

Kitty, who was not too well provided with clothes, nevertheless didpossess one very smart evening frock. It was made of lovely Indianmuslin, exquisitely embroidered and beautifully made. She took it nowout of her trunk, and looked at it with admiration. Her father hadbought this Indian muslin for her, having sent for it straight away toIndia, and he had himself superintended the making of the beautifuldress. 

Kitty's fingers trembled now as she slipped the soft folds over herhead, and tucked in the spray of cherry-colored ribbons just above herwhite satin belt, and then she tied back her hair with the same shinysoft ribbon, and looked at her little pale face in the glass andwondered how soon she would see her father again. 

"Oh, father! father!" she thought, "I am going to try my hardest, myvery, very hardest, and all for your sake, and I'll be brave for yoursake, and three years won't be very long passing if I spend everymoment of the time in working my very hardest, and doing my very bestfor 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 inshade than the cherry-colored ribbons which as a matter of course theywould wear, and one and all of the girls of the Upper school werebecomingly and suitably dressed, with the exception of poor Florence;but Florence's muslin dress was coarse in texture and badly made, andnotwithstanding the soft cherry-colored ribbons, she did not look herbest. Also her head ached, and she was in low spirits. 

Kitty was particularly affectionate to Florence, and she asked her nowin an anxious tone how she had managed with regard to her EnglishHistory. 

"I am so dreadfully sorry, " she said; "I meant to give you such acoaching in the reign of Queen Elizabeth all this afternoon, Florry, but there, it can't be helped. How did you manage, dear? Do you thinkyou have answered all the questions?"

"Of course I have, " answered Florence, in an almost cross voice, forshe could scarcely bear Kitty's affectionate manners just then. "Youtake me for a great dunce, Kitty, but I am not quite so bad as youimagine. "

"Oh, I know you are anything but a dunce, " replied Kitty; "I don't takeyou for one, I assure you, Florence, only I did hope that I might helpyou 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 mycherry bow here better than in my belt. Don't touch me, please. "

Florence hated herself beyond words for being so cross, but the factwas 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 KittySharston's way. 

Yes; it was a glorious evening, and everything passed off without ahitch of any sort. The guests consisted of all the best people in theneighborhood. They sat round and applauded all the girls, who dancedthe minuet with becoming grace and looked very pretty as they glidedabout 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, andthen they danced Sir Roger de Coverley to the merry strains of a stringband, 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, andalso a little portfolio full of some pretty water-color drawings, forFlorence had a great taste for art, and had managed to come out at thehead of the school with her own water-color sketches. 

The other girls also obtained prizes, all but Kitty Sharston, who wasnot long enough in the school to be entitled to one. 

Kitty found herself now close to Sir John Wallis, who motioned to herto 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 sendhim 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 waitingfor him with the good news, I make not the slightest doubt. "

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

"Oh, yes, I have no doubt you will. Now, pluck up your courage, answeryour best; don't be a scrap afraid. "

"But, Sir John, you must promise me one thing, " said Kitty, lookingearnestly into his face. 

"What is that, my dear?" asked Sir John, smiling down into the eagerlittle face. 

"You won't favor me more than the other girls? You'll be quite, quitefair, and give the chance to those girls who are really in your opinionthe best?"

"I will, Kitty, I will, " said Sir John; "do you think I could doanything else as regards your father's daughter? And now, child, thetime is up, and I am going into the oak parlor. You will all follow mein a moment. "

Kitty never forgot the hour which was spent in the oak parlor with hercompanions of the Upper school. She did not know how she answered thequestions put with great animation by Sir John. She only knew that herheart was beating wildly, and she was thinking all the time of thatcablegram which would comfort her father when he reached Malta, andresolving as surely girl never resolved before not to disappoint him, to give him if she could, if it were any way within her power, thatsupreme pleasure. And so when the hour was over and the briefexamination was made, and the names of the successful competitorscalled 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 notfeel at all elated, although her companions clustered around her andshook her hand and wished her joy. 

The two other successful competitors were Florence Aylmer and MaryBateman. 

Mrs. Clavering then read out certain rules which Sir John had made withregard to the Scholarship, and soon afterwards the proceedings of theevening broke up; the guests departed to their homes, carrying theirbaskets of cherries with them; and Kitty, Florence and Mary weresurrounded by their companions, who wished them joy and cheered themthree times three, and took them up to their dormitory in triumph. 

CHAPTER IX. 

THE LITTLE MUMMY. 

It was a week afterwards when Kitty stood at the gate of Cherry CourtSchool to wish Florence Aylmer good-bye, for Florence had obtained thedarling wish of her heart, and was on her way to Dawlish to spend aweek with her mother. She was to travel third-class, and the journeywas a long one, and the day happened to be specially hot, but nothingcould damp Florence's delight, and Kitty, as she watched her, could nothelp for a moment a slight pang of envy coming over her. 

"Have a good time, Florry, and tell me all about it when you return, "said Kitty. 

And Florence promised, thinking Kitty a very good-natured, agreeablegirl as she did so, and then Kitty turned slowly back to the house andFlorence found herself alone. She was driving in a hired chaise toHilchester railway-station. She had said good-bye to Kitty and to Mrs. Clavering, and her earnest wish was that the week might spread itselfinto two or three, and that she could banish all thought of Kitty andMrs. Clavering and Cherry Court School from her mind. 

"For, although I mean to win the Scholarship--yes, I shall win it; Ihave made up my mind on that point--I cannot help more or less hatingKitty Sharston, and Mrs. Clavering, and the school itself, " thought thegirl. "But there, I will forget every unpleasant thing now. I havenot seen the little Mummy for a whole year; it will be heavenly to kissher again. If there is anyone in the world whom I truly, truly love itis the dear little Mummy. "

All during her hot journey across England to the cool and delightfulwatering-place of Dawlish, Florence thought more and more of hermother. She was an only child, her father having died when she wasfive years old, and Mrs. Aylmer had always been terribly poor, andFlorence had always known what it was to stint and screw and do withoutthose things which were as the breath of life to most girls. AndFlorence was naturally not at all a contented girl, and she had foughtagainst her position, and disliked having to stint and screw, and shehad hated her shabby dress and unwieldy boots and ugly hats and coarsefare. 

But one portion of her lot abundantly contented her--she had no faultto find with her mother. The little Mummy was all that was perfection. For her mother she would have done almost as much in her own way asKitty would do for her father in hers. 

And now her heart beat high and her spirits rose as she approachednearer hour by hour the shabby little home where her mother lived. 

It was in the cool of a hot summer's evening that the train at lastdrew up at Dawlish, and Mrs. Aylmer stood on the platform waiting toreceive her daughter. 

Mrs. Aylmer was a plain dumpling sort of little body, with a perfectlyround face, and small beady black eyes. She had a high color in eachof her cheeks and fluffy black hair pushed away from her high forehead. She was dressed in widow's weeds, which were somewhat rusty, and shenow came forward with a beaming face to welcome Florence. 

"Oh, Mummy, it is good to see you, " said Florence. She had a brusquevoice and a brusque manner, but nothing could keep the thrill out ofher words as she addressed her mother. 

"I am not going to kiss you till we get into the cottage, " she said. "Here's my luggage--only one box, of course. Oh, it is good to seeyou, it is good!"

"Then come right off home, Florry, " said Mrs. Aylmer; "I have gotshrimps for tea and some brown bread and butter, and Sukey made thebread specially for you this morning; you always liked home-made bread. Come along; the porter will bring your trunk in presently. You'll seeto it, Peter, won't you?" said Mrs. Aylmer. 

Peter, the rough-headed outside porter, nodded in reply, and Mrs. Aylmer, leaning upon Florence, who was head and shoulders taller thanher parent, walked down the little shingly beach, and a momentafterwards entered the cottage door. 

"Dear Mummy, " she said, "it is good to see you. Now, turn round, Mummy, and let us have a right good hearty stare. Oh, you look just aswell as ever, sunburnt--so much the better. Now then, for a hug. "

Florence opened her arms, and the next moment little Mrs. Aylmer wasclasped to her daughter's breast. 

"There, that's nice, " said Florence, "that's a right hearty hug. I amso glad you are well, Mummy. I am so thankful you were able to send methe money; I hope I didn't screw you up very tight. "

"Well, it did, Florence, " replied Mrs. Aylmer; "I shall not be able tohave any meat for a whole month after you leave, dear. That was theway I managed, just docking the butcher's bill and the greengrocer'sbill. I must have butter to my bread and milk in my tea, but thegreengrocer and the butcher will pay your third-class return fare tothe school. There now, Flo, don't worry. Come upstairs to our room;you will share my bed, dear; I could not afford to have an extra room;you will share my bed. "

Florence followed her mother upstairs without a word. The cottage wasa very, very tiny one, and, tiny as it was, Mrs. Aylmer only owned onehalf of it. She had a little sitting room downstairs, and a wee, weebedroom upstairs, and the use of the kitchen, and the use of Sukey'stime for so many hours every day, and that was about all. But adelicious sea breeze blew into the tiny sitting-room and filled thelittle bed-room; and clematis and honey-suckle and climbing plants ofevery description clustered around the windows, and Florence thought itthe dearest, sweetest, most fascinating place in the world. 

"It is rather a small bed for two, " she reflected, as she entered theroom, stooping to get beneath the lintel of the door; "but never mind, it's Mummy's little room and Mummy's bed, and I am happy, happy as theday is long. "

So she tossed off her hat and washed her face and hands, and tidied herhair, and went down to enjoy the honey and bread and fruit and shrimpsand tea with cream in it which Mrs. Aylmer had provided in honor of herdaughter's arrival. 

"There, " said Florence, "that was a hearty meal. Now let us go out onthe beach, Mummy. You will have a great deal to say to me, and I shallhave a great deal to say to you. "

"It is exciting having you back, Flo, " said Mrs. Aylmer, "and we mustmake the week go as far as possible. "

"We will sit up very late at night, " said Florence, "and we will get upvery early in the morning, for we must talk, talk, talk every moment ofour precious time, except just the few hours necessary for sleep. Youdon't want much sleep, do you, Mummy?"

"Yes, but I do, my dear; I want my seven to eight hours' sleep withinthe twenty-four hours, or I am just good for nothing. I get muzzy inthe head unless I sleep enough. Do you ever suffer from muzziness inthe head, dear?"

"That's just like one of your dear old-fashioned words, " said Florence;"if I did feel it I shouldn't be allowed to express it in that way atschool. By the way, mother, what do you think of me? Haven't I growna good lot?"

"Yes, you're a fine hearty girl, but you are not exactly beautiful, Florry. "

Florence's eyes fell and a discontented look crossed her face. "Howcan I look decent in these clothes?" she said; "but there, never mind, you can't give me better, can you?"

"I, darling! How could I? I have not fifty pounds a year when all istold, and I cannot do more with my money. It's your Aunt Susan who isto blame, Florence, and she is worse than ever. I'll tell you allabout her to-morrow; we won't worry to-night, will we?"

"No; let us think of only pleasant things to-night, " said Florence. 

"Well, come down on the beach, Flo. I am all agog to hear your news. What is this about the Scholarship?"

"Oh, Mummy, need we talk of this either to-night?" said Florence, frowning. 

"Well, yes, I should like it, " said Mrs. Aylmer; "you see, you know allabout it, and I don't. You told me so little in your letter. Youdon't write half as long letters as you used to, Flo. I wish youwould, for I have nothing else to divert me. I have turned andre-turned my best dress--I turned it upside down last year, anddownside up this year, and back to front and front to back, and I amtrimming it now with frills which I have cut another old skirt up tomake, and I really cannot do anything more with it. It won't bystylish, try as I will, and your Aunt Susan hasn't sent me a cast-offof hers for the last two years. It's very stingy of her, very stingyindeed. She sells her clothes now to a dealer in London who buys upall sorts of wardrobes. Before she found out this wardrobe-dealer Iused to get her cast-offs and managed quite nicely. It's horrid ofher. She is a very unamiable character. Don't you ever take afterher, Florry, be sure you don't. "

"I hate her quite as cordially as you do, mother; but now come along bythe shore and I'll tell you about the Scholarship, if you really wishto know. "

Which Florence did, with one arm clasped tightly round her mother'swaist, and Mrs. Aylmer almost danced by her daughter's side as shelistened, and tried to fancy herself nearly as young as Florence, andwas certainly quite as eager with regard to the winning of the greatScholarship. 

"You must get it, " she said at last, after a pause; "it would make themost tremendous, tremendous difference. "

"Well, I mean to try, " said Florence. 

"And if you try, dear, you will succeed. You're a very clever girl, ain't you?"

"Don't say 'ain't, ' mother; it is not quite----"

"Oh, don't you go to correct me, my love. I can't help having therather rough ways of people with small means; but you are clever, aren't you?"

"I believe I am in some things. There are some things again which Inever can get into my head, try as I will. I am a queer mixture. "

"You are a darling old thing, " said the mother, giving her arm anaffectionate squeeze. 

"And you are the sweetest pet in the world, " said Florence, glancingdown at her parent. "Oh, it is good to be with you, Mummy, again. "

"Well, darling, you'll get the prize, there's nothing to prevent it. "

"There are several things to prevent it, " said Florence, in a gloomyvoice. 

"What, my dear, darling pet--what?"

"Well, for instance, there are two other girls. "

"Oh, girls, " said Mrs. Aylmer, in a contemptuous voice. "I am notgoing to be frightened by girls. My Florence is equal to the best girlthat ever breathed. "

"Yes, but mother, you cannot quite understand. There's Kitty Sharston, for instance. "

"Kitty Sharston, " said Mrs. Aylmer; "what about her?"

"Well, she is really clever, and everyone seems to wish her to win. "

"I call that shocking unfair, " said Mrs. Aylmer. 

"It is, mother, but we cannot get over the fact. She is a favoritewith the school, and I must own she is a jolly girl. Now, what do youthink she did for me?"

"What, my darling?"

"You know the Cherry Feast?"

"Of course I do--have not you described it to me so often? You wouldmake a wonderful writer, I believe, you would make a lot of moneywriting stories, Florence. "

"No, I wouldn't, Mummy, not really. It takes a good deal to be a goodstory-writer. "

"Well, go on, pet, I am all agog to hear. "

So Florence related also the story of the cherry ribbons. 

"Wasn't it like Aunt Susan?" she said. 

"Just, " exclaimed the mother; "the stingiest old cat in existence. "

"And wasn't it nice of Kitty, and didn't she do it well?" saidFlorence. "Oh, she is a splendid girl, and I ought not to hate her. "

"But you do hate her?"

"I am afraid I do sometimes. "

"And I'm not a bit surprised, dear, coming between you and this greatchance. But, oh, Florry, you must win, it is all-important; I'll tellyou why to-morrow. There is a letter from your Aunt Susan which willtake some of the pleasure out of this little visit, but it makes theScholarship absolutely essential. I'll tell you all about itto-morrow. "

CHAPTER X. 

AUNT SUSAN. 

Florence slept soundly that night, and awoke the next morning in thehighest of spirits and the best of health. 

"It is wonderful, Mummy, " she said, "how you and I can squeeze intothis camp bed, but there, I never moved all night; it was delicious tohave you so close to me. I cannot understand why I love you as I do, for you are a very plain, ordinary sort of woman. "

"I never was anything else, " replied Mrs. Aylmer, by no means offendedby Florence's frank remarks. "Your poor father always said, 'It's yourheart, not your face, that has won me, Mabel. ' Your poor father had agreat deal of pretty sentiment about him, but I am matter-of-fact tothe backbone. There, child, jump up now and get dressed, and I'll godown and prepare the breakfast. Sukey is rather cross this morning, and I always make the coffee myself. "

Mrs. Aylmer bustled out of the room, and Florence slowly rose anddressed. 

"I wonder what mother would think of me, " she said to herself, "if sheknew how I really secured my present position as one of the luckythree; I wonder what mother would think about it. Would she beterribly shocked? I doubt if the little Mummy has the highestprinciples in the world; in fact, I don't doubt, for I am quite certainthat the Mummy's principles are a little lax, but there, she is theMummy, and I love her. What a queer thing love is, for Mummy is notthe highest-souled woman, nor the most beautiful in the world. Still, she is the Mummy, and I love her. "

So Florence finished dressing and ran downstairs, and enjoyed a heartybreakfast of brown bread and butter, honey, and delicious coffee. 

"I can't do much for you in the meat line, my dear, " said her parent. "I don't indulge in meat more than once a week myself, but we'll takeit out in fish. Fish is cheap and plentiful in Dawlish, and we can getdear little crabs for fourpence apiece. "

"Oh, lovely, " said Florence; "I adore crabs. "

"We will go down to the fishwife after breakfast, and get her to boilsome for us in time for supper, " said the mother; "and now, Florence, if you are quite disposed to listen, I may as well get over this badbusiness. "

"You allude to Aunt Susan, of course?" said Florence. 

"Yes, my dear child, to her last letter. I could not read it to you, for really the tone is that aggravating it would make milk turn, and Iknow the contents by heart. "

"What are they, mother? You may as well tell me; I am pretty wellaccustomed to bad news. Is she going to make your screw still smaller?"

"No, she says nothing about that. Florence, child, I wish it had beenthe will of Providence to have spared my brother, for if your Uncle Tomhad lived I would not be in the sordid state I am now. If one of themhad to go, why wasn't it your Aunt Susan?"

"She is not my real aunt, you know, " said Florence. 

"That's just it, dear, but she owns the money. Now, if she had left itto Tom he would have had me to live with him. I doubt, after hisexperience with your Aunt Susan, if he would ever have taken a secondwife, and you and I would have had plenty. "

"Dear me, mother, " said Florence, frowning slightly, "what is the goodof going over that now? Uncle Tom has been in his grave for the lastsix years, hasn't he? and Aunt Susan rules the roost. It's Aunt Susanwe have got to think about. What did she say in that unpleasantletter?"

"Something about stocks and shares and dividends, dear--that herdividends are not coming in as well as usual, and that in consequenceher income is not so large, and she finds it a great strain keepingyou, Florry, at that expensive school. "

"Oh, well, that's all arranged, " said Florence, in a somewhat nervousvoice. 

"My dear Florry, don't you bear yourself up with false hopes and falseideas, for it seems, according to your Aunt Susan's letter, that thething is not arranged at all. In fact, she declares positively thatshe won't keep you at Cherry Court School longer than another term. "

"What, mother?"

"She says so, my love. I am sorry to have to tell you, but it is afact. She says that you are going on sixteen, and that at sixteen youought to be a very good pupil teacher at another school, where yourservices would be given in lieu of payment. She says she knows aschool in the country where you would be taken, a place called StoneleyHall, where there are sixty girls. It is up amongst the Yorkshiremoors, in the dreariest spot, I make no doubt. Well, in her letter shesaid that she had arranged that you are to go to Stoneley Hall atChristmas, and that the next term is your last at Cherry Court School. "

"If I win the Scholarship I need not do that, " said Florence. 

"No, no, dear, that's just it; and she says also that when she removesyou from Cherry Court School she will allow me fifteen pounds a yearmore than I have at present, which will make my income of sixty-fivepounds instead of fifty. I mean to give you that fifteen pounds a yearto buy your clothes with, Florry. You shall have that, my poor dearchild, whatever happens. I think you can dress yourself quite neatlyon that. "

"I should judge from the sort of clothes I have now, " said Florence, giving her foot a pettish kick against the obnoxious blue serge, "Ishould judge they did not cost five pounds a year. Yes, the fifteenpounds would be delicious; and you would give it to me, Mummy?"

"Well, of course, darling, because you would have no income of your ownat Stoneley Hall for the first two years, and after that it dependsaltogether on what you can do. You are not half educated yet, are youFlorence?"

"Of course not, mother; a girl of fifteen is not educated, as a rule. "

"That's just it, but your Aunt Susan does not care a bit. She remindsme in her horrid letter, that you are not her own niece at all, andthat very few women would be as kind to her husband's people as she isto you and me. She says frankly----"

"Oh, what an odious frank way she has!" interrupted Florence. 

"She says frankly, " pursued Mrs. Aylmer, wiping the moisture from herbrow as she spoke, "that we are the greatest worry to her, both of us, and that she does not care a pin for either of us, but that she doesnot want to have it said that her husband's people are in theworkhouse, and that is why she is doing what she is doing. "

"Oh, Mummy, " said Florence, "can you bear her? When you tell me thosesort of things I just long to throw her gifts in her face and to sayboldly, 'We won't take another halfpenny from you, we will go to theworkhouse to spite you, we'll tell every one we can that we areconnected with you. Yes, we'll go to the workhouse to spite you. '"

"That's all very well, Florence, " replied Mrs. Aylmer, rising as shespoke and shaking the crumbs from her dress outside the window. "Idoubt if it would vex your Aunt Susan very much, and it would vex us aconsiderable deal, my love. Your Aunt Susan's relations might not evenhear of it, and we would be miserable and disgraced for ever. No, wemust swallow our pride and take her money; there is no help for it. But if you get the Scholarship, Flo, she is the kind of woman who wouldbe proud of you, she is really. If she thought you had any gift shewould turn round in jiffy and begin to spend money properly on you. She asked me in her last letter what sort of girl you were growing up, and if you had a chance of being handsome, for, said she, 'if Florenceis really handsome, I might take a house in London and give her aseason. I enjoy taking handsome girls about, and I am a right goodmatchmaker. ' That is what she said, the horrid old cat. But you arenot handsome, Florry, not a bit. "

"I know, " replied Florence, "I know. Well, mother, we must make thebest of things. You may be certain I won't leave a stone unturned toget the Scholarship. "

"You will get it, dear, and then your education will be secured, and byand by you will get a post as governess, a good post in somefashionable family, and perhaps you would meet a nice young man whowould fall in love with you. They do over and over in thestory-books--the nice young man, the heir to big properties, meets thegoverness girl and falls in love with her, and then she gets a muchhigher position than her employer's daughters. That is what I wouldaim for if I were you, Florry. "

"Oh, dear me, mother, " said Florence. She stared very hard at theround face of her parent, and wondered down deep in her heart why shewas so very fond of Mummy. "Let us go out and have a walk, " she said, restlessly; "let us visit the little shrimp-woman; I'd like to see herand all the old haunts again. "

"But before we go, " said Mrs. Aylmer, "tell me, my darling, why are younervous, why you fear you may not get the Scholarship. "

"I told you last night, mother--can't you understand? I am your onepet chicken, but I am not anything at all really in the eyes of theworld. I am not beautiful and I am not specially clever. "

"But you got amongst the lucky three, as you call them; you must beclever to have done that. "

Florence stared very hard at her mother; her face went a little paleand then red. 

"What is the matter, Flo? Why do you stare at me like that?"

"I am going to tell you something if you will never tell back again. "

"What is it, dear? Really, Flo, you make me quite uncomfortable; youhave got a very bold way of staring, love. "

"I am going to tell you something, " repeated Florence; "I got into thelucky three because I was mean. I did a mean, shabby, low thing, Mummy. "

"Oh, no, no, " said Mrs. Aylmer, restlessly, "no, no, darling. "

"I did, mother, " said Florence, and now her lips trembled. "I didsomething very mean, and I did it to the girl who gave me those lovelycherry ribbons. "

"That spoilt chit--Kitty Sharston you call her?"

"Yes, that girl. I opened her desk and looked at an answer which sheput to a certain question in English History which I did not knowmyself. If I had not answered that question I make no doubt I shouldnot have been included in the lucky three. "

"Well, well, " said Mrs. Aylmer. She looked restless and disturbed. She went again to the little window and looked out. "I don't see howyou can help yourself, " she said. 

"But it was a mean thing, wasn't it, mother?"

"Poor people cannot help themselves, " said the widow, in a restlessvoice, "but I wish you hadn't told me, Florence; it was--it was thesort of thing that your poor father would not have done; but there, youcouldn't help yourself, of course. "

"Then you don't think, mother, that I ought to tell Mrs. Clavering?"said Florence. 

"Tell and give up your chance! No, no, no; that is the disadvantage ofbeing so poor, one has to stoop sometimes. Your father would not havedone it, but you could not help yourself. Come out, child, come out. "

The mother and daughter wandered along the beach. They visited theshrimp-woman and then sat under the shade of a big rock and looked atthe dancing waves, and talked of Florence's chance of winning thecoming Scholarship. 

By tacit consent they neither of them alluded to that shabby deed whichFlorence had done; they were both in their hearts of heartsuncomfortable about it, but both equally resolved to carry the thingthrough now. 

"For it is too important, " thought Mrs. Aylmer. 

And Florence also thought, "It is too important, it means too much; Imust take every chance of securing the Scholarship. "

The two ladies returned home rather late, and there, to theirastonishment, they found a telegram waiting them. It was addressed toMrs. Aylmer. She tore it open eagerly and uttered an exclamation. 

"There, Florry, " she said, "read that. "

Florence took the thin pink sheet and read the following words:

"Staying at Torquay. Going back to London to-morrow. Will put up atthe hotel at Dawlish for one night on purpose to see Florence. --SUSAN. "

"There, " said the mother, "there's a chance for you, Flo; I hope youhave brought a decent dress. Perhaps she will do something now thatshe sees you; it is a wonderful chance. Dear, dear, dear! I have notseen Susan for three or four years. She was a stylish woman in herday; perhaps she'll give me one or two of her cast-offs. "

"Mother, " said Florence, "we must make the best of things. You mustlook nice and I must look nice, and we won't plead poverty. I feelproud in the presence of Aunt Susan. I am sorry she is coming; I mayas well say so frankly. "

"But it's a great chance, child, " said the widow; "what do you thinkabout inviting her here to tea?"

"Nonsense, mother, " replied the daughter; "she ought to invite us totea. "

"I wonder if she will. I wonder which hotel she'll go to. There is asplendid one on the beach, the 'Crown and Garter. ' It would be verystylish to be seen going there, and Sukey would think a great deal moreof me and also my friends, the Pratts, if they knew that we had tea'dor lunched at the 'Crown and Garter. ' I hope she will ask me. Butthen, on the other hand, to see Susan in the cottage--she wouldprobably drive up in a carriage and pair--I really wonder which wouldbe best. It would have a great effect on the neighbors. I have spokento them of my grand relations, but somehow, seeing is believing. It'swonderfully exciting--her coming, isn't it, Flo?"

But Florry had walked to the window and was looking out with a shade ofdisgust on her brow. The Mummy was the Mummy, but she certainly neededrepression. Even if you had those sort of sentiments, if you wereeducated at all you would keep them to yourself. 

The rest of the evening was spent in considerable excitement on thepart of Mrs. Aylmer. Much as she professed to dislike hersister-in-law, Susan Aylmer, the thought of seeing her caused much morecommotion than she had experienced at the thought of welcoming Florencehome. 

Florence was a dear old thing and her own daughter, but then shedepended on Susan for her bread. Early on the following morning shewas seen to put on her best and much-turned dress. 

She went to the shop and even committed the great extravagance ofgetting a new white widow's front for her bonnet, and also a pair ofnew black silk gloves, and then she waited restlessly until the arrivalof Mrs. Aylmer. 

Mrs. Aylmer arrived in state by a train which reached Dawlish aboutnoon, and the other Mrs. Aylmer--the poor one--and her daughterFlorence watched her from afar. 

"There she is, " said Mrs. Aylmer the less, as she might truly becalled, "there she is, Flo. She's grown stouter than ever, shepromises to be a very large woman in her old age; and what a pompousway she does walk! I do declare--well, that beats everything--she iswalking to the hotel, not even taking a carriage. That's just likeSusan. Come, Flo, we'll go toward and speak to her; there's no good inhaving relations and keeping one's self in the background. Follow me, my dear, and pull yourself up and look as nice as you can. Everythingdepends on your aunt's first impression of you. Just push your hatstraight--there, that's better; now come along. "

Mrs. Aylmer and Florence pushed their way through a crowd of people whohad just arrived, and a moment later Mrs. Aylmer the less and Mrs. Aylmer the great were shaking hands in greeting. 

"How do you do, Mabel?" said Mrs. Aylmer the great, "and is this yourdaughter?" A pair of light blue eyes traveled all over Florence fromthe crown of her head to the sole of her foot. "I'll see you both atthe hotel, " said Mrs. Aylmer, in a gracious tone, "after I have hadlunch. I shall want a little rest immediately after, but don't keep mewaiting. I shall expect you at three o'clock. "

"Come home, Flo, " said Mrs. Aylmer the less. "We must not disturb you, of course, Susan, and we'll be punctual to the moment. What do youthink of her, Flo?" said the widow, as soon as she and her daughterwere out of sight. 

"I think she looks horrid, mother, just as she always did. How well Iremember going to see her shortly after poor father died, and how sheused to make you cry, and how cold she always was, and what miserabletea she gave us! We had better ask her to a meal unless we want to bestarved, Mummy, dear. "

"I can't afford it really, Flo, and she would remark upon every luxurywe had at the table. She would write to me afterwards and say, 'Fromthe style of your meal, ' etc. "

"Oh, don't mother; I wish she hadn't come, " said Florence. "You and Icould have been quite happy and cosy alone, but now she will contriveto make us truly miserable. "

"She has come for a reason, " said Mrs. Aylmer, solemnly, "and itbehooves you, Flo, to put your best foot foremost. I have got a nicelittle white jacket for you to wear this afternoon, and white becomesyou very much. "

"A white jacket! What sort?" said Florence. 

"One that your aunt sent me two years back, and which I altered by apattern of yours. You can wear it with that serge dress, and you willlook quite cool and nice. Now then, darling, let us have our owndinner, because we must be punctual; it would never do to keep Susanwaiting. "

Neither of the ladies did keep Aunt Susan waiting. They arrived at thehotel, which turned out to be the "Crown and Garter, " just as the greatclock in the hall struck three. 

Mrs. Aylmer had never been inside the "Crown and Garter, " and she nowlooked around her with intense pleasure, and when one of the waiterscame forward asked him in a pompous voice for "my sister-in-law, Mrs. Aylmer. "

The man withdrew, to return in a moment or two to say that Mrs. Aylmerwas in her private sitting-room, number 24, and would see the ladiesimmediately. 

CHAPTER XI. 

"I ALWAYS ADMIRED FRANKNESS. "

"Hold your head up, Flo, and don't be nervous, " whispered the widow, asthey walked down the long corridor, the waiter going in front. Hepaused opposite number 24, flung the door open, and announced in a loudvoice, "Mrs. Aylmer and Miss Florence Aylmer, " and then shut the doorbehind the two ladies. 

The widow walked nervously up the room and then stood confronting hersister-in-law. The elder Mrs. Aylmer had just risen from a sofa onwhich she had been lying. Mrs. Aylmer the less was quite right inprophesying her sister-in-law would be a large woman in the future; shewas a large woman now, stoutly built and very fat about the face. Herface was pasty in complexion without a scrap of color in it, and hereyes were of too light a blue to redeem the general insipidity of herappearance; but when she spoke that insipidity vanished, for her lipswere very firm, and were apt to utter incisive words, and at suchmoments her pale blue eyes would flash with a light fire which was fullof sarcasm, and might even rise to positive cruelty. 

"Sit down, Mabel, " she said to Mrs. Aylmer. "Now Florence, I wish tosay a few words to you. You will have tea with me, of course, Mabel, you and your daughter. "

"Thank you very much indeed, Susan, " said Mrs. Aylmer the less. "Itwill be a real treat, " she added _sotto voce_, but loud enough for hersister-in-law to hear. 

"H'm! I have tea at four o'clock, " said Mrs. Aylmer the great; "I willjust ring the bell and give orders; then we shall have time for a nicecomfortable conversation. My dear, " she added, turning to her niece, "would you oblige me by ringing that bell?"

Florence rose and did so. There was an ominous silence between thethree until the waiter appeared to answer the summons. 

"Three cups of tea and some thin bread and butter at four o'clock, "said Mrs. Aylmer the great, in an icy tone of command. 

The waiter said, "Yes, ma'am, " bowed, and withdrew. 

Mrs. Aylmer the less thought of the hearty tea she and Florence wouldmake at home, the shrimps and the brown bread and butter, and the honeyand the strong tea with a little cream to flavor it; nevertheless, herbeady black eyes were fixed on her sister-in-law now with a look whichalmost signified adoration. 

"Don't stare so much, Mabel, " said Mrs. Aylmer; "you have not lost thatunpleasant habit; you always had it from the time I first knew you, andI see your daughter has inherited it. Now then, Florence, to business. "

"Yes, aunt, to business, " replied Florence, very brusquely. 

Mrs. Aylmer stared at her niece. 

"You speak in a very free-and-easy way, " she said, "considering yourcircumstances. "

Florence colored angrily. 

"My circumstances, " she answered; "I don't quite understand. "

"Has not your mother told you about my, alas! unavoidable change ofplans?"

"I have, Susan, I have, " said the widow, in an eager, deprecatingvoice. "I told dear Florry the day after her arrival. By doingwithout meat and fruits and vegetables I contrived to pay herthird-class fare from Cherry Court School to Dawlish, and on the nightof her arrival I told her about your sensible letter. "

"H'm, I am glad you think it sensible, " said Mrs. Aylmer; "sensible ornot, it is unavoidable. You leave Cherry Court School at the end ofnext term, Florence, and I am about to write to your governess, Mrs. Clavering, to give her due notice of your removal. I hope, my dear, you have profited much by the excellent education which I have givenyou during the last three years. "

"I don't know that, " replied Florence, in a sulky tone. "Where is thegood, " she said to herself, "of trying to please this horrid AuntSusan, and I quite hate Mummy to fawn on her the way she is doing. Iat least cannot stoop to it. No; and I will not. "

"You have not profited by your time at school, " replied Mrs. Aylmer thegreat; "what do you mean?"

"I have done my best, of course, " replied Florence, "but I am quite ayoung girl still, only just fifteen. Girls of fifteen are noteducated, are they, Aunt Susan? Were you educated when you werefifteen?"

"Oh, Flo, Flo, " said the mother, in a voice of agony; "pray do forgiveher, Susan. "

"I wish you wouldn't interrupt, Mabel, " said Mrs. Aylmer, lying back inher luxurious chair as she spoke, and folding her fat hands across herlap. "I like Florence to speak out. I hate people to fawn on me. "

"Dear! dear!" said Mrs. Aylmer the less. She rolled her black eyes, then lowered them and fixed them on the carpet. It was impossible tounderstand Susan, she was a most extraordinary woman. If, after all, Florry was on the right track and won the day!

"Girls of fifteen are not specially well educated, " proceeded Mrs. Aylmer, fixing her eyes again upon Florence's face, which was now alittle red; "and I don't intend your education to be finished. I havebeen fortunate enough to gain you admittance into an excellent schoolfor the daughters of the poor clergy. You are to go as a pupilteacher; you will not receive any remuneration for the first two years, but you can continue to have lessons in music, French, and German. "

"And what about English?" said Florence. 

"You are to impart English. I conclude that at your age you at leastknow your mother tongue thoroughly. "

"But that's just it, I do not, " said Florence. "I know French fairlywell for a girl of my age, and I have a smattering of German, and amfairly fond of music. I don't care for English History nor EnglishLiterature, and I have not studied either of them; and my grammar isvery weak, and my spelling--well, Aunt Susan, I can't spell properly. I am sorry, but I inherit bad spelling from my mother. "

"Oh, Florence!" cried the poor little widow. 

"I do, Mummy; you know perfectly well that you have never yet spelt'arrange' right, nor 'agreeable. ' You always leave out one of the 'e's'in the middle of agreeable. Oh, I have had such a fight with those twowords, and I do inherit my bad spelling from you. Well, Aunt Susan, what more do you wish me to say?"

"I cannot admire your manners, Florence, and as to your appearance, itleaves very much to be desired. "

Mrs. Aylmer looked very calmly all over Florence. Florence suddenlysprang to her feet, her temper was getting the better of her. Sheinherited her temper, not from her mother, for the little Mummy had theeasiest-going temper in the world, but from her father. John Aylmerwhen he was alive had been known to plead his own cause with effect onmore than one occasion, and now some of his spirit animated his youngdaughter. She rose to her feet and spoke hastily. 

"I am not good-looking, " she said, "and I know it; I cannot help myfeatures, God gave them to me and I must be content with them. My noseis snub and my mouth is wide, but I have got some good points, and if Iwere your daughter, Aunt Susan--and I am heartily glad I'm not yourdaughter; I would much, much rather be Mummy's daughter, poor as sheis--but if I were your daughter you would dress me in such a fashionthat my good points would come out, for I have good points; a nicecomplexion, fine hair and plenty of it, and fairly good eyes, and myfigure would not look clumsy if I wore proper stays and properly-madedresses; and my feet would not be like clodhoppers, if I had finewell-made boots and silk stockings; and my hands----"

"You need not proceed, Florence, " said Mrs. Aylmer, rising abruptly. "Mabel, I pity you; I should like to wash my hands of your daughter, but I cannot forget my promise to my poor dead husband, who begged meon his deathbed not to allow either of you to starve. 'For the sake ofthe family, Susan, ' he said, 'don't let my sister-in-law Mabel and herdaughter Florence go to the workhouse. ' And I promised him, and I meanas long as the breath animates this feeble frame to keep my word. 

"As long as I live, Mabel, your fifty pounds a year is secured to you, and I shall allow you, after Florence leaves that expensive school, which has cost me from one hundred and twenty to a hundred and fortypounds a year, to give you an additional fifteen pounds, thus raisingyour income to the very creditable one of sixty-five pounds per annum. As to you, Florence, having gone to the enormous expense of youreducation and having placed you at Mrs. Goodwin's excellent school atStoneley Hall as pupil teacher, I wash my hands of you. "

"Very well, Aunt Susan, that's all right, " replied Florence. "I neverdid like you and I like you less every time I see you, but I want tosay something on my own account. It is quite possible that I may notgo to Mrs. Goodwin's school at Stoneley Hall. There is a chance that Imay be able to remain at Cherry Court School quite independent of you, Aunt Susan. "

"Yes, Flo, that's right, " said Mrs. Aylmer the less, rising now to herfeet and giving her daughter an admiring glance. "I always knew youhad spirit, my darling; you inherit it from your poor dear father. IfJohn were alive he would be proud of you, now, Flo. Tell about theScholarship, Florry, my pet; tell about the Scholarship, dear. "

Mrs. Aylmer the great was now so speechless with astonishment that shedid not open her lips. Florence turned and faced her. 

"It is your fault that I am plain, " she said, "you have not done whatmy uncle asked you to do. You have paid my fees at school, but youhave not made it possible for me to grow up nice in any sense of theword. You have always thrown your gifts in my face, and you have nevergiven me decent clothes to wear. It is very hard on a girl to bedressed as shabbily as I am, and to be twitted by her companions forwhat she cannot help; and although you kept me at Cherry Court School, there have been times over and over when I hated you, Aunt Susan, andbut for my dear little Mummy I would have left the school and earned mybread as a dressmaker or a servant. But there is a chance that I maycontinue to be a lady and hold the position I was born to without anyhelp from you. A great Scholarship has been offered to the girls ofCherry Court School. It is offered by Sir John Wallis, the owner ofCherry Court Park. "

"Sir John Wallis! The owner of Cherry Court Park! Why, I know him, "said Mrs. Aylmer. "I was staying in the same house with him lastyear--a most charming man, delightful, good-looking, most agreeablemanners, and such a brave soldier! Do you mean to tell me, Florence, that you know him?"

"He is the patron of our school; I thought you were aware of thatfact, " said Florence. 

"Your manners, my dear, are simply odious, but I listen to your wordswith interest. Ah! here comes the tea. Put it on that table, waiter!"

The waiter appeared, carrying the tray waiter-fashion on his hand. Itcontained three very small cups of weak tea, and about five tiny wafersof the thinnest bread and butter. There was a little sky-blue milk ina jug, and a few lumps of sugar in a little silver basin. Mrs. Aylmerglanced at the meal as if she were about to give her sister-in-law andher niece a royal feast. "This is most exciting, " she said; "we willenjoy our tea when you, Florence, have explained yourself. So you knowSir John Wallis. When you see him again pray remember me to him. "

"Oh, I don't know him personally, " said Florence; "there is a girl atthe school he is very fond of, but I just go in with the others. He isgiving the Scholarship, however. "

"Go on, my dear; you interest me immensely. With judicious dress and alittle attention to manners, you might be more presentable than Ithought you were at first, Florence. Take this chair near me; now goon. What has dear Sir John done?"

"He is offering a Scholarship to the girls of Cherry Court School, andthe girl who wins the Scholarship is to receive a free education forthree years, " said Florence. "I am trying for the Scholarship, and ifI win it I shall remain at Cherry Court School for three years at SirJohn's expense. I shall be known as the Cherry Court Scholarship girl, and be much respected by my companions; so you, Aunt Susan, will havenothing to say to my subsequent education. I shall be very pleased towash my hands of you. I think, Mummy, that is about all, and we hadbetter go now. There will be a better tea for us at home, and I forone am rather hungry. "

Mrs. Aylmer the great was quite silent for a moment, then she spoke ina changed voice. 

"Florence, " she said, "you need much correction; you are a verybombastic, disagreeable, silly, ignorant girl, but I will own it--I doadmire spirit, you have a look of your father, and I was very fond ofpoor John; not as fond of him as I was of my own dear Tom, but still Irespected him. Had he lived you would have been a different girl, butyour unfortunate mother--"

"If you say a word against mother I shall leave the room this instant, and never speak to you again, " said Florence. 

"Really, my dear, you do go a little beyond yourself--I who have doneso much for you; but that Scholarship is interesting. Florence, youhad better go home; I will have a word with your mother by herself. First of all, however, are you likely to win it?"

"I vow that I'll get it, " said Florence. 

"Florence is really clever, dear Susan, " said Mrs. Aylmer the less, nowbursting in in an irrepressible voice; "I believe Sir John is muchstruck with her. He did an extraordinary thing, and at the CherryFeast, which always ends the summer term at the school, had apreliminary examination, and dear Flo, with two other girls, iseligible to compete for the great Scholarship. They call themselvesthe lucky three--their names are Kitty Sharston, Mary Bateman, andFlorry. Yes, Florence is very clever. "

"She has a good-shaped forehead, " said Mrs. Aylmer; "I greatly admiregenius. You can go, Florence; I'll speak to your mother. "

"I think you had better come too, Mummy, " said Florence; "surely it isnot necessary for you to remain. "

But Mrs. Aylmer glanced at her sister-in-law and then at Florence, anddecided to remain. 

"No, no, dear child, " she said, "I have a great deal to say to yourAunt Susan; she has the kindest heart in the world, and the fact is, Iam looking forward to my cup of tea. What delicious tea it looks! Itis so kind of you, Susan, to give it to me. "

Florence stalked to the door without a word, opened it, and shut itafter her. When she had done so the widow glanced at the rich Mrs. Aylmer. 

"You must forgive the dear child, Susan, " she said. 

"Forgive her! there is nothing to forgive, " said Mrs. Aylmer. 

"But she was very rude to you. "

"I prefer her rudeness to your fawning, Mabel, and that I will sayfrankly. "

"Fawning! Dear Susan, you certainly have a very peculiar way, butthere--"

"We need not talk about my ways; my ways are my own. I wish to saysomething now. If my niece Florence wins the Scholarship, after herterm at Cherry Court has expired I shall send her abroad for two years, paying all expenses of her education there. On her return, if sheturns out to be a highly-educated, stylish woman, I shall take her tolive with me, taking a house in London and giving her every advantage. I intended to do this for Florence if she turned out good-looking; shewill never be good-looking, but she may be a genius which is equallyinteresting. All depends on her winning the Scholarship. If she losesit she goes to Mrs. Goodwin's school at Stoneley Hall, having clearlyproved to me that her abilities are not above the average. If she winsit I do what I say, and in the meantime I wish you, my dear Mabel, toget her one or two pretty dresses, a nice hat, and a few suitableclothes. Or, stay, I have not the least doubt that your taste isatrocious; give me her measurements, and I shall write to my owndressmaker in London. Florence shall return to Cherry Court School asmy niece, and I will write to Sir John Wallis myself with regard toher. Now, I think that is all. Oh, you would like your tea. Take it, pray, and hand me a cup. That silly girl! but I always did admirefrankness. "

CHAPTER XII. 

THE FAIRY BOX. 

The rest of the week at Dawlish passed on the wings of speed. 

Mrs. Aylmer took her departure on the following morning, and neitherthe little Mummy nor Florence saw her again, but at the end of the weeka box arrived at the widow's cottage. It was a wooden box carefullynailed down, and labelled: "This side up with care. " It was addressedto Miss Florence Aylmer, and caused intense excitement, not only in thebreast of Florence herself and Mrs. Aylmer, but also in that of Sukeyand the near neighbors, for Mrs. Aylmer's tongue had not been idleduring the few days which had passed since her sister-in-law's visit, and the intentions of Aunt Susan with regard to Florence had beenfreely talked over and commented on. 

Nothing was said about the Scholarship. Mrs. Aylmer thought it just aswell to leave that out. Her remarks were to the following effect:

"Florence is about to be adopted by her very wealthy aunt; she isalready keeping her at a good school, and is about to send her somesuitable dresses. In the end she will doubtless leave her her fortune. "

After this Sukey and the neighbors looked with great respect atFlorence, who for her part had never felt so cross in her life as whenthese hints were made. 

"Mummy, " she said once to her parent, "if I want to keep myself-respect I ought to refuse those clothes and give up Aunt Susan. "

"My dear child, what do you mean? If you wanted to keep yourself-respect! My dear Florence, are you mad?"

"Alas, mother, I fear I am mad, " replied the girl, "for I do intend toaccept Aunt Susan's bounty. I will wear her pretty dresses, and allthe other things she happens to send me, and I will take her money anddo my best, my very best, to get the Scholarship; but all the same, mother, I shall do it meanly, I know I shall do it meanly. It would bebetter for me to give up the Scholarship and go as a poor girl toStoneley Hall. Mother, there is such a thing as lowering yourself inyour own eyes, and I feel bad, bad about this. "

Florence made these remarks on the evening the box arrived. The boxwas in the tiny sitting-room still unopened. Mrs. Aylmer was regardingit with flushed cheeks, and now after Florence's words she suddenlyburst into tears. 

"You try me terribly, Flo, " she said, "and I have struggled so hard foryour sake. This is such a splendid chance: all your future secured andI, my darling, relieved of the misery of feeling that you areunprovided for. Oh, Flo, for my sake be sensible. "

"I will do anything for you, mother, " said Florence, whose own eyes hada suspicion of tears in them. "It was just a passing weakness, and Iam all right now. Yes, I will get the Scholarship, and I will stoop toAunt Susan's ways--I will cringe to her if necessary; I will do my bestto propitiate Sir John Wallis, and I will act like a snob in everysense of the word. There now, Mummy, I see you are dying to have thebox opened. We will open it and see what it contains. "

"First of all, kiss me, Florry, " said Mrs. Aylmer. 

Florence rose, went up to her mother, took her in her arms, and kissedher two or three times, but there was not that passion in the embrace, that pure _abandon_ of love which Florence's first kiss when shearrived at Dawlish had been so full of. 

"Now, then, " she said, in a hasty voice, "let us get the screwdriverand open the box. This is exciting; I wonder what sort of taste AuntSusan's dressmaker has. "

"Exquisite, you may be sure, dear. There, there, I am all trembling tosee the things, and Sukey must have a peep, mustn't she, Flo?"

"If I acted as I ought, " said Florence, "I would take this box just asit stands unopened to Cherry Court School to-morrow. "

"Oh, no, my dear; you could not think of doing such a thing; it wouldbe so unkind to me. I shall dream of you in your pretty dresses, mylove. "

Florence said nothing more; she took the screwdriver from her mother, and proceeded to open the box. 

Inside lay fold after fold of tissue paper. This was lifted away andthen the first dress appeared to view. It was a soft shimmering silkof light texture, fashionably made and very girlish and simple. Florence could not help trembling when she saw it. All her scruplesvanished at the first sight of the lovely clothes, and she took themout one by one to gaze at them in amazed delight. 

The silk dress was followed by a flowered barege, and this by one ortwo cottons, all equally well made, quite suitable for a young girl, and the sort of dress which would give to Florence's somewhat clumsyfigure a new grace. Under the three lighter dresses was a very plainbut smartly-made thin blue serge, altogether different from the sort ofserge which Florence had worn up to the present. To this serge waspinned a label, on which the words were written: "Travelling dress, andto be worn every day at school. "

Under the pretty serge were half a dozen white embroidered aprons, andbelow them piles and piles of underlinen, all beautifully embroidered, silk stockings, little shoes, plenty of gloves, handkerchiefs, alsoembroidered with Florence's name. In short, a complete and veryperfect wardrobe. 

"Dear, dear, is it a dream?" said Florence; "am I the same girl? Whatmagic that Scholarship has worked!"

"You must try them on, Flo, " said the widow; "we shall be up some time. You must try one and all of them on, and Sukey shall come in and seeyou. "

"Oh, mother, is it necessary to show them all to Sukey?"

"I think so, love, for it will spread the news, and it will greatlyenhance my position in the place. I quite expect the Pratts will askme to tea once a week, and they give very good teas--excellent; I nevertasted better hot cakes than Ann Pratt makes. Yes, Flo dear, Sukeymust see you in your smart clothes. Come upstairs to our bedroom andlet us begin the trying-on, dearest. "

Florence was sufficiently impressed with her new position to agree tothis. She went upstairs with her mother, and for the next two hoursthe ladies were very busy. 

Sukey was called to view Florence in each of her frocks, and when Sukeyheld up her hands and said that Miss Florence looked quite the lady ofquality, and when she blinked her old eyes and fussed round the younggirl, Mrs. Aylmer thought that her cup of bliss was running over. 

At last the trying-on was completed, the old dresses discarded and putaway, and Florence came downstairs in her travelling serge, wonderingif a fairy wand had been passed over her, and if she were indeed thesame girl who had arrived at Dawlish a week ago. 

"And here's a letter from your aunt; it arrived a quarter of an hourago, " said Mrs. Aylmer. "I have not opened it yet. I wonder what shesays. "

"Read it to me, mother; we may as well go in for the whole thing. AuntSusan evidently intends to turn me out properly. Do I look much nicerin this serge, mother?"

"You look most elegant, dear, you really do. You will have a very finefigure some day, and your face now in that very pretty setting-off hasa very distinguished appearance. You have an intellectual forehead, Flo; be thankful that you inherit it from your poor dear father. "

"Well, read the letter now, mother, " said Florence. 

Mrs. Aylmer opened the envelope, and took out the thick sheet of paperwhich it contained. 

Mrs. Aylmer the great generally wrote few words. It was only on theoccasion of her last letter that she had indulged in a longcorrespondence. Now she said briefly:

"MY DEAR MABEL: I believe that Florence's box of clothes will arrive onThursday evening, so that she will be able to return to Cherry CourtSchool dressed as my niece. I wish her in future to speak of herselfas my niece, as I am very well known in many circles as Mrs. Aylmer, ofAylmer Hall. If Florence plays her cards well and obtains theScholarship she will have a good deal to say of Aylmer Hall in thefuture. 

"I enclose herewith a five-pound note, and please ask Florence toexchange her third-class ticket for a first-class one, and telegraph tothe station-master at Hilchester to have a carriage waiting for her, inorder to take her back to the school as my niece ought to arrive. Tellher from me that during the next term I will allow her as pocket-moneytwo pounds a month, so that she may show her companions she is reallythe niece of a wealthy woman. As to you, Mabel, I hope you will notinterfere in any way with the dear child, but allow her to pursue herstudies as my niece ought. If she fails to get the Scholarship allthese good things will cease, but doubtless she has too much spirit andtoo much ability to fail. "

"There, " said Mrs. Aylmer, when she had finished the letter, "can youtake your tea after that? Five pounds, and you are to go backfirst-class! That I should live to see the day! This is all Sir JohnWallis's doing. There is not the least doubt that he had a wonderfuleffect upon Aunt Susan. "

"Yes, a wonderful effect, " said Florence, in a gloomy voice. She waswearing the neat and beautifully fitting serge, a white linen collarencircled her throat, and was fastened by the neatest of studs, andwhite linen cuffs also encircled her wrists; her figure was shown offto the best advantage. On her feet were the silk stockings and thedainty shoes which she had so coveted a week ago, and yet her heartfelt heavy, heavy as lead. Her mother pushed the five-pound notetowards her, but she did not touch it. 

"Look here, Mummy, " she said, "we will exchange the third-class farefor a first-class one, and then you shall have the balance of the fivepounds. It will make up for what you denied yourself to have me here;it is only fair. "

"Oh, Flo, you dear, sweet, generous child--but dare I take it?"

"Yes, Mummy, you must take it; it is the only drop of comfort in allthis. I don't like it, Mummy. I have a mind even now to----"

"To what, my dear child?"

"To take off this finery and send back the money, and just be myself. I wish to respect myself, but somehow I don't now. Oh, Mummy, Mummy, Idon't like it. "

"Florence, dear child, you are mad. This sudden happiness, thisunlooked-for delight has slightly turned your brain--you will be allright in the future. Don't think any more about it, love. We must goupstairs now to pack your things in order to get you ready for yourjourney to-morrow. "

"All right, " said Florence. 

"You have not taken your tea, dearest. Is there any little thing youwould fancy--I am sure Sukey would run to the butcher's--a sweetbreador anything?"

"No, no, mother--nothing, nothing. I am not hungry--that's all. "

The next morning at an early hour Florence bade her mother good-bye andstarted back for Cherry Court School. It was very luxurious to lieback on the soft padded cushions of the first-class carriage and gazearound her, and sometimes start up and look at her own image in theglass opposite. She could not help seeing that she looked much nicerin her white sailor hat, her pretty white gloves, and well-fitting darkblue serge than she had looked when she went to Dawlish one week ago. And that trunk in the luggage-van kept returning to her memory againand again, and in her purse were ten shillings, and in her mother'spurse were three pounds, for the difference between the third-class andthe first-class fares had been paid, and Florence, after keeping tenshillings for immediate expenses, could still hand her mother threepounds. 

"You don't know what it will be to me, Flo, " the little Mummy had said. "I shall be able to buy a new dress for the winter. I didn't dare tosay a word to your Aunt Susan about her cast-offs; I scarcely liked todo so. But there are your clothes too, dear; I can cut them up andmake use of them. Yes, I am quite a rich woman, and it is all owing tothe Scholarship. "

The thought of that three pounds for her mother did comfort Florry, andher conscience was not accusing her so loudly that day, so she sat backon the cushions and reviewed the position. She was going back toCherry Court School as a rich girl; what would her companions think ofher?

CHAPTER XIII. 

AN INVITATION. 

The holidays had come to an end, and the girls were returning to theschool. The three who were to compete for Sir John's Scholarship hadspecial desks assigned to them, were instructed by special teachers, and were looked upon with intense respect by the rest of the school. The holidays had gone by and had been pleasant, for Mrs. Aylmer hadwritten to Mrs. Clavering to beg of her to take her niece Florence fora week's change on the seaside, and Mrs. Clavering had insisted onKitty accompanying them, and, as Mrs. Aylmer paid the greater part ofthe expenses, the girls had a good time. 

Mrs. Aylmer now wrote twice a week, if not to Florence herself, atleast to Mrs. Clavering; and Mrs. Clavering had to alter her views withregard to Florence, to give her every advantage possible, and to lookupon her with a certain amount of respect. 

"It certainly is most important that you should get that Scholarship, "she said once to the young girl. "Mrs. Aylmer has explained the wholeposition to me, but then you won't get it, Florence, unless you earnit. "

"I know that, " said Florence. 

"And Kitty has an equal chance with you. I think Kitty is a remarkablyintelligent girl. It is just as important for her to get it as it isfor you, you quite understand that?"

"Oh, I quite understand, " said Florence. 

"Then there is also Mary Bateman. Mary has not as brilliant anintellect as Kitty, and in some ways is not as scholarly as you are, Florence, but she is very plodding and persevering, and as a rule getsto the head of her class. Mary is neither rich nor poor, but she wouldbe very glad of the Scholarship, and says that it would give her fatherand mother great happiness if she obtained it; so you see, dear, youthree girls are to work for the same goal--it is almost as important toone of you as to another. I want you therefore to be perfectly fair inyour dealings each with the other, and to try to keep envy and allill-feeling out of your hearts. The one who wins this great generousoffer of Sir John Wallis must not think more highly of herself than sheought, and those who lose must bear their loss with resignation, feeling that they have acquired a great deal of knowledge, even if theyhave not acquired anything else, and trying to rejoice in the successof the one who has succeeded. The next few months until October willbe a time of strain, and I hope my dear girls will be equal to theoccasion. "

Florence got very red while Mrs. Clavering was speaking to her. "Sometimes----" she said, in a low voice, and then she paused and hertone faltered. 

"What is it, Florence?"

"Sometimes I heartily wish that Sir John had not put this great thingin my way. Last term I was poor and had shabby clothes, and no onethought a great deal of me, but in some ways I feel less happy now thanI did last term. Last term, for instance, I was very fond of KittySharston and I liked Mary Bateman, but there are moments now when Ialmost hate both of them. "

"It is brave of you to confess all this, Florence, and I think none theworse of you for doing so, and if you pray against this feeling it willnot increase, dear. Now go away and prepare for your French paper. Bythe way, a special master is coming twice a week now to coach all threeof you. This has been done by Sir John Wallis's orders. Go away now, dear, and work. "

The one great subject of conversation in the school was the CherryCourt Scholarship, and the lucky three were looked upon with wonder anda little envy by their less fortunate companions, for their privilegeswere so great and the goal set before them so high. For instance, Mrs. Clavering had so contrived matters that the three could work at theirspecial Scholarship studies in the oak parlor. She had given each girla desk with a lock and key, where she could keep her different themesand exercises. They had a special master to teach them deportment inall its different branches, and once a week they spent an evening inMrs. Clavering's drawing-room, where special guests were invited to seethem. 

On these occasions the young girls had to act turn about as hostess, pouring out tea, receiving the visitors, seeing them out again, andentering into what was considered in the early seventies politeconversation. The almost lost art of conversation was as far aspossible revived during the time of Scholarship competition, and inorder to give Kitty, Florence, and Mary greater opportunities oftalking over the events of the day they were obliged to read the_Times_ every morning for an hour. 

Their companions, those of the Upper school, were invited to assemblein the drawing-room on the occasions of the weekly conversazione, as itwas called, and a special subject was then introduced, which the girlswere obliged to handle as deftly and as well as they could. 

As to conduct marks, there was nothing said about conduct, and no oneput down those marks except the head mistress herself. Florencesometimes trembled when she met her eyes. She wondered if those calmgrey eyes could read through down into her secret soul, could guessthat she herself was unworthy, that she had committed a deed whichought really to exclude her from all chance of winning the Scholarship. Then, as the days went on, Florence's conscience became a littlehardened, and she was less and less troubled by what she had done withregard to Kitty Sharston. 

Florence's change in circumstances were much commented upon by theother girls, and there is no doubt that in her neatly-fitting dresswith her abundant pocket-money she did appear a more gracious and amore agreeable girl than she had done in the old days when her frockwas shabby, her pinafore ugly, her pocket-money almost _nil_. 

One of the first things she did on her arrival at the school was topresent Kitty Sharston with a white work-bag embroidered with cherriesin crewel-stitch, and with a cherry-colored ribbon running through it. She had spent from five to six shillings on the bag, and had deniedherself a little to purchase it. 

Kitty received it with rapture, and used to bring it into Mrs. Clavering's drawing-room on the company evenings, and to show it withpride to her companions as Florence's gift. 

"She had never had such a pretty bag in her life, " she said, and shekissed Florence many times when she presented it to her. 

Florence meant it as payment for the cherry-colored ribbons, but shedid not mean it as payment for what she had stolen out of Kitty's desk. She knew that nothing could ever pay for that deed; but it comfortedher conscience just a little to present the bag to Kitty. 

The Scholarship was to be competed for on the thirtieth of October, andthe girls reassembled at Cherry Court School about the fifteenth ofAugust. 

Three weeks after the school had recommenced, some time therefore inthe first week in September, Mary Bateman, who had been bending for along time over her desk with her hands pressed to her temples and hercheeks somewhat flushed, suddenly raised her eyes and encountered thefixed stare of Kitty Sharston. Kitty had done her work and was leaningback in her chair. Kitty's sweet pale face looked a little paler thanusual. She was expecting a letter from her father, and on the weekwhen the letter was to arrive she always looked a little paler and alittle more anxious than she did at other times. 

"Have you finished your theme?" said Mary, abruptly. 

"Yes, " answered Kitty. 

"You write so easily, " pursued Mary, in a somewhat discontented voice;"you never seem to have to think for words. Now, I am not at all goodat composition. "

"I am not at all good at other things, " replied Kitty, in a gentlevoice; "mathematics, for instance; and as to my arithmetic, it isshameful. Father wants me to be able to keep accounts very well forhim. I shall do that when I go to India, but still I have no abilityfor that sort of thing--none whatever. "

"How much you must love your father, " said Mary. 

"Love him!" answered Kitty. Her color changed, a flush of red roseinto her cheeks, leaving them the next moment more pallid than ever. 

"You don't look very strong, " pursued Mary, who had a blunt downrightsort of manner; "I wonder if India will agree with you; I wonder if youwill really go to India. "

"Why do you say that?" answered Kitty, impatiently, "when it is the onedream, the one hope of my life. Of course I shall go to India. Ishall do that in any case, " she added _sotto voce_. 

"It is so strange all about this Scholarship, " continued Mary, in anuneasy voice, "that we three should long for it so earnestly, and yeteach feel that two others will be more or less injured if we win it. "

"Don't let us talk of it, " said Kitty. "I--I must get it. "

"And I must get it, " pursued Mary, "and yet perhaps it means a littleless to me than it does to you and Florence. Florence is the onelikely to win it, I am sure. "

Kitty's face turned white again and her little hand trembled. 

"I must get it, " she said, in a restless voice. "I don't think I amselfish--I try not to be, and I would do anything for you, Mary, andanything for Florence; but--but I can't give up the Scholarship: itmeans too much. "

She shivered slightly. 

At that moment Florence entered the room. She sat down at her desk, unlocked it, and took out her papers. She was just about to commenceher study--for the Scholarship study was all extra, and had to be donein odd hours and moments--when, glancing up, she met the disturbed andquestioning gaze of Kitty Sharston. 

"Look here, " said Kitty, "we three are alone now; let us have a goodtalk, just once, if never again. Why do you want to get theScholarship, Mary? Why?"

"Why do I want to get it?" said Mary. 

"Oh, I wish to work now; if you mean to discuss that point I had betterleave the room, " said Florence. 

"No, no, do stay, Flo; I won't be more than a moment. I want tounderstand things, that's all, " said Kitty. "Please, Mary, say why isthe Scholarship of great importance to you. "

"Well, for several reasons, " replied Mary. "I am not like you, Florence, and I am not like you, Kitty. I have got both a father andmother. My father is a clergyman; there are nine other childrenbesides me--I am the third. It was extremely difficult for father tosend me to this expensive school, but he felt that education was theone thing necessary for me. Father is a very advanced, liberal-mindedman; he is before his time, so everyone says; but mother does not thinkit necessary that girls should know too much. Mother thinks that agirl ought to be purely domestic; she is very particular aboutneedlework, and she would like every girl to be able to make a shirtwell, and to be able to cook and preserve, and know a little aboutgardening, and know a great deal about keeping a house in perfectorder. But father says, and very rightly, that every girl cannotmarry, and that the girls who do not marry cannot want to know a greatdeal about keeping a house in order, and that such girls, unless theyhave fortunes left to them, will have to earn their own living. Ofcourse, there are very few openings for women, and most women have toteach, so it is decided that I shall teach by and by. If marriagecomes, all right, but if it does not come I shall earn my living as agoverness. 

"Now, to be a really good governess father wants me to be very welleducated, and he is spending the little money that he might have leftto me when he died in sending me to this good school. Whether I getthe Scholarship or not, I shall remain at the school for three years. I am fifteen now; I shall remain here until I am eighteen. If I do getthe Scholarship father means to save the money that the three years'schooling would cost, and he means to send me when I return home at theage of eighteen to a wonderful new College for Women which has beenestablished at a place called Girton. He will spend the money which hewould have spent on my education at Cherry Court School in keeping meat Girton, where I shall attend the University lectures at Cambridge, and learn as much as a man learns. It is wonderful to think of it. Mother is rather vexed; she says that I shall be put out of my sphereand cease to be womanly, but I don't think I could ever be that. Yousee that it is very important for me to win the Scholarship, and I meanto try very, very, very hard. "

When Mary had finished her little speech she drooped her head onceagain over her desk. When at last she raised her eyes she encounteredthe bold black ones of Florence Aylmer, and the soft, lovely, dilatedeyes of Kitty Sharston. 

"And I want to win the Scholarship, " said Kitty, taking up the theme, "because it means staying on here and being happy and being welleducated for three years. It means getting the best lessons in music, and the best lessons in singing, and the best lessons in art, and itmeans also getting the best instruction in modern languages, and in allthose other things which an accomplished woman ought to know. Then atthe end of three years if all is well and father gets promoted to thehill station, I shall go out to join him in Northern India, and I wantto be as perfect as possible in order to be father's friend as well asdaughter, his companion as well as child. "

"And if you don't get the Scholarship, what will happen?" saidFlorence, in a low, growling sort of voice. 

"Why, then I am going to live with a lady whom I don't love; her nameis Helen Dartmoor; she is a Scotchwoman, and a cousin of my mother's. She is not the least like my dear mother, and I never loved her, and Iknow that the best in me will not be brought to the fore if I am withher; and I shan't learn those things which would delight dear father; Ishall not know modern languages, nor be a good musical scholar, nor beable to sing nicely, and I--I shall hate that life, and my nature maybe warped, and I--but, oh! I will win the Scholarship. "

Kitty sprang to her feet and went over to the window. "This makes merestless, " she said; "I didn't mean to express all my feelings; I amvery sorry for you, Mary, and for you, Florence, but, I mean to get theScholarship. "

"You have not yet seen the thing from my point of view, " said Florence. "Perhaps in reality this means more to me than even to you, Kitty, forI--I in reality am horribly poor. I know, Kitty, that you are poortoo--I know perfectly well that your father is poor for his position;but whatever happens, you are a lady, Kitty, and your father is agentleman, and at the end of three years, whether you win theScholarship or not, you will go out to him and lead the life of a lady. I don't suppose, when all is said and done, that it will make anydifference in his affection whether you can speak French and readGerman or not, and I am certain he won't kiss you less often becauseyou do not play charmingly and because you do not sing divinely. ButI--if I lose the Scholarship I lose all--yes, I lose all, " saidFlorence, rising to her feet and standing before the other two girlswith a solemn and yet frightened look on her face. "For I shall sinkin every sense of the word; I shall no longer be a lady, I shall go aspupil teacher to a common, rough sort of school, and my mother, my dearmother, will suffer, and I shall suffer, and all the good things oflife will be taken from me. So it is more to me than it is to you, Kitty Sharston; and as to you, Mary Bateman, you are out of countaltogether, for why should you go to that new-fangled college and beturned into a man when you are born a woman? No, no; I mean to getthis Scholarship, for it means not only all my future, but mother'sfuture too. It is more to me than to either of you. "

Florence swept up her papers, thrust them into her desk, and abruptlyleft the room, slamming the door after her. 

Kitty looked at Mary, and Kitty's eyes were full of tears. "It isquite dreadful, " she said; "how she does feel it! I never knewFlorence was that intense sort of girl, and it does seem a great dealto her. What is to be done, Mary? Are we to give it up?"

"Give it up?" said Mary, with a laugh; "not quite. Kitty, forgoodness' sake, don't allow Florence's words to trouble you. You havegot to fight with all your might and main. You will fight honorablyand so will I, and if you mean to give it up there will be the greaterchance for me, but of course you won't give it up. "

"No, I shan't give it up, " said Kitty, "but all the same, Florence'swords pain me. "

At that moment a clear ringing little voice was heard in the passageoutside, the door of the oak parlor was burst open, and Dolly Fairfaxrushed in. Dolly's eyes were shining and her cheeks were crimson. "Here are two letters, " she said, "both for you, Kitty Sharston; itisn't fair that you should get all the letters. "

"Come and sit on my knee while I read them, " said Kitty, stretching outher arms to Dolly. 

Dolly sprang into Kitty's lap, twined her soft arms round her neck, andlaughed into her face. 

"I do so love you, Kitty, " she said; "I do so hope you will win theScholarship. I don't want you to get it, ugly Mary, and I don't wantnasty Florence to get it; but I want you, sweet, dear, darling Kitty, to get it. You shall--you shall!"

"You are a very rude little thing, but I don't mind, " said Mary, laughing good-humoredly. "I know I am plain, and I don't care a bit;I'll win the Scholarship if I never win anything else, so you may aswell make up your mind, Kitty Sharston. "

But Kitty never heard her, she was deep in her father's letter. Yes, it had come, and it was a long letter closely written on foreign paper, and Kitty took a very long time reading it, so long that little Dollyslipped off her lap and wandered restlessly to the window and stoodthere gazing out into the court, and then back again into thesoftly-shaded room, with the slanting rays of the afternoon sun makingbars of light across the oak. 

At last Kitty finished; she heaved a long sigh and looked up. "I hadforgotten you were here, Mary, " she said, "and as to you, Dolly--butthere, it is beautiful, good news. Father has arrived and has begunhis work, and he says he has every chance of going up into the hillsabout the time that I shall have finished my education here. Oh, it issuch a relief to read his letter. If you are very good indeed, Mary, and if you are very good, Dolly, you shall both hear some of myletter--not the private part, of course--but the public part, whichspeaks about father's wonderful interesting travels, and his sort ofpublic life, the life he gives to his country. Oh, dear! I never sawanyone grander than dear, dear father!"

"You have said that very often, " said Dolly; "I have got a father too, but I don't think he is specially grand. I suppose it was because yourfather was a hero before Sebastopol. I shall never forget aboutSebastopol now and the trenches since you told me that wonderful storyabout your father and Sir John Wallis, and the night they were bothnearly frozen, " said Dolly Fairfax. "I suppose that is why you loveyour father so much. "

"No, it isn't, " answered Kitty stoutly; "I love him just because he ismy father and because, because, oh! I don't know why--I love himbecause I do. "

"Well, read your other letter now; two have come--read the other. "

Kitty picked up the other letter and glanced at it. "This is a privateletter; it has come by hand, " she said. "Oh, of course, it is from SirJohn Wallis. I wonder what he has got to say to me. "

Kitty opened the letter and read the following words:

"MY DEAR KITTY: I want you and Miss Florence Aylmer and Miss MaryBateman to spend to-morrow with me at Cherry Court Park. Mrs. Clavering will accompany you, and I have written to her also on thesubject. My dear child, my reason in having you three girls is simplythat I want to study your characters. I say this quite frankly, andyou may tell both your companions that such is my intention in havingyou to spend a long day with me. I will do all I can to make youhappy, and I think it but fair to put all three of you on your guard, for please understand that the Scholarship is given, not only forscholarly attainments and correct deportment, but also for those loftytraits of character which are a greater possession to any woman thaneither ladylike manners or great accomplishments. Pray do not beanything but your natural selves to-morrow, for I shall never allude tothis matter again. From now until the date when the Scholarship is tobe decided, I will expect you three to spend one day a week at CherryCourt Park. 

 "Your affectionate friend, "JOHN WALLIS. "

CHAPTER XIV. 

AT THE PARK. 

The news that the lucky three were to spend a whole day at Cherry CourtPark caused great excitement amongst the other girls of the school. 

"It's nothing short of delightful, " said Alice Cunningham to hersister; "I only wish I had such a chance. "

"Well, you have not, so there's no use in fretting about it, " repliedMabel. "They certainly are having a good time, but who will win? Ivote for Florence. "

"And I for Kitty, " said Alice; "who has a chance beside Kitty? She isthe most brilliant of the three girls, and such a favorite with SirJohn. "

"But for that very reason she may have less chance of winning, becauseSir John is a wonderfully just man. Did you ever see anyone soterribly in earnest as Florence? Her eyes have quite a strained lookat times, and she does not eat half as much as she did; then she getssuch long, long letters from that wonderful aunt of hers. She did notget those letters at all last term, and her dress is so smart, and shehas such heaps of pocket-money; there is a great change in Florence. Sometimes I feel that I want her to win, but at other times all mysympathies are for Kitty. "

"No one seems to think of poor Mary Bateman, " said Edith King, in athoughtful voice, "and yet in reality she is one of the nicest girls inthe school, and if she wins the Scholarship, for she has been tellingme all about it, she is to go to Girton. "

"Where in the name of wonder is Girton?" asked Alice Cunningham. 

"Oh, it is a College for Women which has been opened near Cambridge. "

"Then if I thought I had to go to a College for Women I should berather sorry to win the Scholarship, " said Mabel Cunningham; "butthere, don't let us talk of it any more. We are to have something of ahalf-holiday to-day, for Mrs. Clavering is to take the three lucky onesto Cherry Court Park. "

Florence dressed herself with great care for this expedition. Kittyhad shown her Sir John's letter, and she had felt a queer tingling painat her heart as she read it; but then a sort of defiance, which wasgrowing more and more in her character day by day, arose to her aid, and she determined that she would not give Sir John one loophole tofind out anything amiss in her conduct. 

"We are going to be spied upon, and it is perfectly horrid, " she said, under her breath, "but never mind, I am determined to stand the test. "

The day happened to be a lovely one, and Florence looked carefullythrough her wardrobe. She finally decided to put on the light summersilk which Mrs. Aylmer had provided for her. She looked very nice inthat silk, almost pretty, and as all its accompaniments were perfect, the lace ruffles round the neck, the lace hanging over her hands, thetrimmings of every sort just as they ought to be, the hat which she wasto wear with the dress, specially chosen by the London dressmaker forthe purpose, no one could look more elegant than Florence did as shestood in the hall of Cherry Court School just before she started forCherry Court Park. 

Kitty, on the other hand, had thought very little about her dress; shehad no fine clothes to wear, so she just put on a clean white muslindress, tied a colored sash round her waist, put her sailor hat on herhead, and ran downstairs, a light in her eyes and a pleased smile roundher lips. 

"I cannot be anything great, " she whispered to her heart, as sheglanced for a moment at Florence, who looked something like a fashionplate as she stood in the hall, "but at least I'll be myself. I'lltry--yes, I'll try very hard to forget all about the Scholarshipto-day. I want to make dear Sir John happy, and I hope, I do hopehe'll tell me something about father and the time they spent togetheroutside Sebastopol. "

Mary Bateman was the downright sort of girl who never under anycircumstances could trouble herself about dress. She wore her bestSunday frock, that was all, and her best hat, and her gloves were alittle darned at the tips, but she looked like a lady and was not theleast self-conscious. 

Sir John's own carriage was to arrive to fetch the ladies to the Park. Cherry Court Park was between two and three miles away from CherryCourt School, and Mrs. Clavering and her three pupils greatly enjoyedtheir drive to the splendid old place. Kitty had been there twicebefore, once with her father and once without him, but neither Florencenor Mary had ever seen the interior of the Park. Mary's exclamationsof rapture as they drove under the overhanging trees and down the longwinding avenue were frequent and enthusiastic. Florence, however, scarcely spoke; she was not a girl to be much impressed by externalbeauty; she was thinking all the time how she could keep the best andmost amiable part of her character to the fore. What did Sir John meanto do? What sort of test was he going to apply to her? She felt thatshe must be armed on every point. 

"My dear girls, " said Mrs. Clavering, just as they were approaching thehouse, "I see you are all a little nervous, thinking that a somewhatstrange test will be applied to you to-day, but I assure you, my dears, that nothing of the kind is intended, and I beg of you, as you wish toimpress your kind host favorably, to be at any cost natural and true toyourselves. Florence dear, I would specially beg of you to remember mywords. Don't set your heart too much on any earthly good thing, mychild, for often those who lose gain more than those who win. "

But Florence shook off the gentle hand; she could scarcely stand Mrs. Clavering's words just then, and avoided meeting her eyes. 

Sir John stood on the steps of his magnificent old house to welcome hisguests. As the carriage drew up beside the porch he came down andextended his hand to each. 

"Welcome, welcome, " he said, "thrice welcome! What a lovely day wehave! Mrs. Clavering, I hope to have the privilege of taking you roundmy gardens, which are just in their autumn prime, and as to you threegirls, will you amuse yourselves exactly as you please untilluncheon-time?"

"Thank you so much, " said Mary, in her blunt voice. She could neveract a part to save her life. "That is just what I should like best todo, " she added, smiling and dimpling. She had a jolly little face, somewhat tanned with the sun, two round good-humored brown eyes, and awide mouth. Her teeth were white, however, and her smile pleasant. 

"Kitty, my dear, " said Sir John, turning to Kitty Sharston, "you havebeen here before and I depute to you the task of doing the honors. Take the girls wherever you please. If, for instance, " added Sir John, "you three would like to have a row on the lake there is the boat allmoored and ready. Kitty, you know how to handle an oar?"

"Rather, " said Kitty; "I have rowed more or less since I could walk. "

"Well, then, that is all right; but if you require any assistance youhave but to call one of the gardeners, there are sure to be plentyabout. Now off you go, all three; forget the old man, and enjoyyourselves as happy girls should. "

As Sir John spoke he gave his arm with old-fashioned courtesy to Mrs. Clavering, and the two turned away. 

"Now, is not this just like dear Sir John?" said Kitty, beginning todance about. "Come, girls, I'll have greatest pleasure in taking youabout. "

"I am surprised to hear that you know all about Cherry Court Park, "said Florence, in a somewhat cross voice, but then she rememberedherself and made an effort to smile. 

"I have been here twice before, " said Kitty. "What do you say tohaving a row? Mary, what do you wish?"

"If you will allow me to do exactly what I like, " said Mary, "I don'twant anyone to guide me; I want to wander here, there, and everywherejust at my own sweet will. I have brought my little sketch-book withme, and mean to sketch some of these splendid old trees. Mother is sofond of outdoor sketches, and I could seldom indulge her with anythingso fine as I could get in an old place like this. Just go off whereyou please, girls, and don't bother about me. "

Off ran Mary on her sturdy legs, and Florence looked after her with alaugh. 

"Poor Mary, " she said, in a contemptuous tone. 

"Why poor?" asked Kitty; "I think Mary is such a downright, jolly, sensible sort of girl. "

"Oh, very downright and sensible, " said Florence. "Kitty, do youreally want to go in the boat?"

"Not if you don't want to go, " said Kitty, looking somewhat anxiouslyat her companion. 

"But I see you do; I notice the expression in your eyes. "

"Well, it's very sweet in the boat, it does soothe one so; the lasttime I was there it was with father; but never mind, I won't go if youwould rather not. Shall we sit under this tree and talk?"

"Yes, let us, " said Florence. "I feel very cross to-day; I don'texactly know what is the matter. "

"I wish you would tell me some of your troubles, Flo. "

"How can I; you are my enemy. "

"Nonsense, nonsense! how can you regard me in that light? You make mequite miserable when you talk as you do. "

"And I meant to be amiable to-day, " said poor Florence, "but somehoweverything grates. It is Aunt Susan. Kitty, you cannot understand myposition. I have to be civil and pleasant to one whom I--but there, don't talk of it. "

"I don't quite understand; I wonder if you feel for your Aunt Susan asI feel for Helen Dartmoor. "

"The lady you are to live with if you lose the Scholarship?"

"Yes, " replied Kitty, sadly. 

"You had better make up your mind to like her then, Kitty, for you willhave to live with her. "

"Why do you say that?"

"Only that I mean to get the Scholarship, and I think my will isstronger than yours. "

"It is not a case of will, " said Kitty, trembling a little as she spoke. 

"Isn't it? I rather fancy it is. But there, we are to be amiableto-day, are we not? Look at Mary sitting under that tree and sketchingas if her life depended on it. I wonder if she is really doing ithoping to please Sir John. "

"Not a bit of it; that would not be Mary's way. All the same, " addedKitty, in a thoughtful voice, "he will be delighted. Mary's sketchesare very spirited, and Sir John loves people to appreciate his place. He will ask you what you think about it at lunch, Florry; you hadreally better let me show you round a bit. "

"If that is the case, certainly, " said Florence. She got up, and sheand Kitty began to wander through the different grounds. They hadnearly completed their peregrinations, having wandered over many acresof cultivated and lovely land, when the luncheon bell summoned themback to the house. 

"Oh, I am so hungry, " said Kitty, "and Sir John has the most splendidluncheons. I wonder where Mary is. "

The girls looked to right and left, but could not see a sign of MaryBateman anywhere. They approached the house. A great big colley cameup, wagging his tail slowly, and thrust his nose into Kitty's hand. 

"Dear old Watch, how sweet you are!" said the girl. 

She bent down, flinging her arms round the colley's neck, and pressed akiss on a white star on his forehead. 

Just then Sir John's voice was heard calling them. "Hey, littlewomen, " he said, "I hope you had a pleasant time and enjoyed yourselvesas much as I meant you to. "

"Yes, I have enjoyed myself immensely, " said Kitty. "Haven't you, too, Florry!"

"Yes, " replied Florence, "I like the place and the gardens. "

In spite of herself she spoke in a stiff, constrained voice; she feltthat Sir John's eye was upon her. She wondered how Kitty could forgetall that hung upon this visit. 

Kitty's face was quite careless and happy, there was a wild-rose bloomon her cheeks which did not visit them very often, and her largepathetic grey eyes looked more beautiful than ever. 

Mrs. Clavering now came forward. 

"Come upstairs, dears, " she said, "and wash your hands before lunch. "

The girls followed their mistress up the great central hall andascended the low oak stairs. They entered a bedroom magnificentlyfurnished. 

"What a great delightful place this is!" said Florence; "fancy any oneperson owning it!" She heaved a quick sigh as she spoke. 

"It is a great responsibility having a place like this and so muchmoney, " answered Mrs. Clavering. "Florence dear, I don't want topreach--in fact, there is nothing I hate more, but I should like to sayone thing. Happiness in the world is far more evenly divided thananyone has the least idea of. Riches are eagerly coveted by those whoare poor, but the rich have immense responsibilities. Remember, mychild, that we all have to give an account with regard to ourindividual talents some day. "

Florence stirred restlessly and approached the window. 

"I wonder where Mary is, " she said, and just as she uttered the wordsthe silver gong in the hall sounded, and the three ladies hurried downto luncheon. 

Still no sign of Mary, but just as they were all wondering with regardto her absence, the door was opened, and a girl, with a smudge on herface and her hat pushed crooked on her head, entered the room. Sheheld her little sketch-book and came eagerly forward. 

"Oh, I am sorry I am late, " she said; "I hope I kept no one waiting. Iforgot all about it--it was that wonderful old oak-tree. "

"What, the grenadier?" said Sir John, with a smile. "Have you beensketching it, Miss Bateman?"

"I have been trying to, but it is awfully difficult. "

"You must let me see your attempt. "

He went up to Mary, took her sketch-book, opened it, and a smile ofpleasure flitted across his face as he saw the very clever and spiritedsketch which the girl had made. 

"Ah!" he said, "I am delighted you like this sort of thing. Would youlike to take many views from my grounds?"

"Certainly--better than anything in the world almost, " said Mary. 

"Well, let me offer you my arm now into lunch. Ladies, will you followus, please?"

Florence's brow contracted with a frown. Mrs. Clavering took Kitty'shand, motioned to Florence to follow, and they went into thedining-room. 

During the rest of the meal Sir John devoted himself to Mary; herfrank, commonplace face, her downright manners, her total absence ofall self-consciousness pleased him. He found her a truly intelligentgirl, and discovered in talking over her father that they knew somemutual friends. 

To Kitty he hardly spoke, although he glanced at her once or twice. Florence seemed not to receive the most remote share of his attention. 

"And yet, " thought Florence to herself, "I am the only girl presentproperly dressed for the occasion. Surely Sir John, a thoroughgentleman as he is, must notice that fact. I wonder what it can mean. Why does he devote himself to Mary? Am I wrong from first to last? Dogirls who are real ladies think little or nothing about their dress?Would Sir John have been more inclined to be pleasant to me if AuntSusan had never interfered?"

As these thoughts came to the restless and unhappy girl's mind she onlyplayed with her food, became _distrait_ and inattentive, and had to bespoken to once or twice by Mrs. Clavering in order to recall herwandering attention. 

Just as the meal came to an end Sir John turned to Kitty, then glancedat Florence, laid his hand emphatically on the table, touched Mary onher sleeve in order to ensure her attention, and spoke. 

"Now, " he said, "I am just going to say a word before we go for ourafternoon expedition. "

"Afternoon expedition! Are we going to have anything very jolly thisafternoon?" said Kitty, her eyes sparkling. 

"I hope so, my little girl; I have ordered horses for us all. Iunderstand that you can all ride, and I thought we could ride toCulner's Heath, where we may enjoy a gipsy tea. "

Even Florence almost forgot herself at this announcement. Could sheride in her silk dress? Had Sir John thought of habits? It seemedthat Sir John had thought of everything. 

"You will find habits in your bedroom, ladies, " he said, "and you canchoose your horses when they come up to the door--but one word first. "

Mrs. Clavering, who had half risen from the table, now paused, arrestedby an expression on her host's face. 

"Yes, " she said. 

Sir John glanced at her and then smiled. 

"I am about to speak to the girls, " he said, "on the matter which wediscussed this morning, my dear madam. "

Mrs. Clavering smiled, and bowed her head. 

"You know, my dear girls, " continued Sir John, turning and addressingthe three, "that the Scholarship competition will take place in alittle over a month from now. Now, I mean that occasion to be a verygrand occasion, I mean it to be strongly impressed upon the mind ofevery girl in Cherry Court School, and no pleasure which I can deviseshall be omitted on the auspicious day. The happy winner of theScholarship shall be truly crowned with laurels, bonfires are to belighted in her honor, and the whole country-side is to be invited toattend the great function, which I propose to take place, not at theschool, but in this house. I intend to invite the entire school to bemy guests on the great day. They shall all come early in the morningand stay at this house until the following day. I am already makingpreparations for the delightful time. And now, there is one thing Iwant to ask. You three girls who are called by your companions thelucky three have it in your power to invite each one guest to witnessyour triumph. You are to name the guest to me, and I myself will sendthe invitation in proper style. I know who Kitty would like to havewith her, but, failing that person, Kitty, is there anyone else whomyou may think it perhaps not your pleasure, but your duty, to ask to bepresent?"

"There is only Helen Dartmoor, " said Kitty, in a low voice, the crimsonflush rising to her face, "and though it will be very unpleasant tohave Helen here, if you think it right, Sir John, I--don't mind. "

"That is very valiantly answered, Kitty, and I wish I might say at oncethat you need not have anyone present whom you do not wish to havepresent, but I rather think it would please your father if MissDartmoor received a proper invitation. I will ask her therefore, mydear child, if there is no one else you would rather have?"

"There is no one else that I can have, and I don't suppose I need see agreat deal of Helen. "

"Certainly not; she will only arrive at the Park the day before theScholarship competition takes place. "

"Then I suppose she must come, " said Kitty. 

"It would be a kindness, " said Sir John, slowly. "I happen to knowMiss Dartmoor; she has few pleasures. "

Kitty nodded. Sir John turned to Mary. 

"Now, then, Miss Bateman, whom am I to ask on your account?"

"Oh, father, father! How delightful! how he will enjoy it!" said Mary, her eyes sparkling, her face beaming. "He will so thoroughlyappreciate it all, and it will be so splendid of you, Sir John. "

"How very free and easy Mary Bateman is, " thought Florry to herself. 

Sir John smiled, took down Mr. Bateman's address, and promised that theinvitation should reach him in good time. 

"I wonder if he will come. How he would love it!" thought Mary. 

Sir John glanced at her pleased face with marked approval. 

"And now, Miss Aylmer, " he said, turning to Florence, "who will youhave present--the one you love best: your mother, for instance?"

Now, Florence had sent one wild throbbing thought to the little Mummythe moment Sir John had spoken of his plan. How the Mummy would enjoyit, how she would revel in the good food and the lovely house! What ared-letter day it would be to her all her life, for all the rest of heryears! How Sukey and Ann Pratt and the neighbors down at Dawlish wouldrespect her for evermore! And doubtless the Mummy's dress might bemanaged, and--but what about Aunt Susan? Would Aunt Susan ever forgiveher? She dared not run the risk of her displeasure; too much dependedon keeping her in a good humor. 

"I should like my aunt to come, " she said, in a steady voice; "she isvery kind to me and specially interested in the result of theScholarship. "

"I know; I have heard from Mrs. Aylmer, " said Sir John, in a pleasanttone; "if you would really prefer her to have the invitation to yourmother, it shall be as you wish, Miss Aylmer. "

"I think it would be right, " said Florence. Her heart gave a heavythrob, then seemed to stand still. 

Sir John gave her one keen glance, and took down Mrs. Aylmer's addressin his pocket-book. 

"I happen to know your aunt, Miss Aylmer, and shall be pleased toextend hospitality to her on the auspicious event. "

CHAPTER XV. 

THE PUPIL TEACHER. 

At the beginning of the autumn term there happened to come to theschool a girl of the name of Bertha Keys. She was between seventeenand eighteen years of age, and came to Cherry Court School in thecapacity of pupil teacher. She was not a pleasant girl to look at, andhad Mrs. Clavering seen her before she engaged her she might havehesitated to bring her into the midst of her young scholars. 

But Bertha was clever and outwardly amiable. She performed her dutieswith exactitude and despatch. She kept the younger girls in order, andwas apparently very unselfish and willing to oblige, and Mrs. Clavering, after the first week or fortnight, ceased to feelapprehensive when she looked at her face. For Bertha's face bore theimpress of a somewhat crooked mind. The small light blue eyes had asly gleam in them; they were incapable of looking one straight in theface. Bertha had the fair complexion which often accompanies a certainshade of red hair, and but for the expression in her eyes she mighthave been a fairly good-looking girl. She had an upright trim figure, and dressed herself neatly. Those watchful eyes, however, marred theentire face. They were as clever as they were sharp and knowing. Nothing escaped her mental vision. She could read character like abook. 

Now, Bertha Keys was very poor. In her whole future life she hadnothing to look forward to except what she could win by her ownindividual exertions. Bertha's apparent lot in life was to be ateacher--her own wish was to cringe to those in power, to obtain afooting amongst those who were likely to aid her, and she had not beena week in the school before she made up her mind that of all the girlsat Cherry Court School no one was so likely to help her in the futureas Florence Aylmer. If Florence won the Scholarship and became theadopted heiress of a rich aunt, the opportunities in favor of Bertha'sadvancement would be enormous. On the other hand, if Mary Bateman wonthe Scholarship nothing at all would happen to further Bertha'sinterest. The same might be said with regard to Kitty Sharston. Bertha, therefore, who was extremely sharp herself and thoroughly welleducated, determined that she would not leave a stone unturned to helpFlorence with regard to the Scholarship. Nothing was said on thesubject between Florence and Bertha for several weeks. Bertha neverfailed, however, to propitiate Florence, helping her when she couldwith her work, doing a thousand little nameless kindnesses for her, andgiving her, when the opportunity offered, many sympathetic glances. She managed to glean from the younger girls something of Florence'shistory, noted when those long letters came from Mrs. Aylmer the great, observed how depressed Florence was when she received letters fromDawlish, noted her feverish anxiety to deport herself well, to lead alife of excellent conduct, and, above all things, to struggle throughthe weighty themes which had to be mastered in order to win the greatScholarship. 

One day about three weeks before the Scholarship examination was totake place, and a week after the events related in the last chapter, Florence was engaged in reading a long letter from her Aunt Susan. Mrs. Aylmer had received her invitation to Cherry Court Park, and hadwritten to her niece on the subject. 

"I shall arrive the day before the Scholarship examination, " she wrote, "and, my dear girl, will bring with me a dress suitable for you to wearon the great day. I have consulted my dressmaker, Madame le Rouge, andshe suggests white bengaline, simply made and suitable to a young girl. Yours, my dear Florence, will be the simplest dress in the school, andyet far and away the most elegant, for what we have to aim at now isthe extreme simplicity of graceful youth. Nothing costs more thansimplicity, my dear girl, as you will discover presently. But more ofthat when we meet. One last word, dear Florence; of course, you willnot fail. Were I to see you dishonored, I should never hold up my headagain, and, as far as you are concerned, would wash my hands of youforever. "

Florence's lips trembled as she read the last words. An unopenedletter from her mother lay on her lap. She flung down Mrs. Aylmer'sletter and took up her mother's. She had just broken the envelope andwas preparing to read it when Dolly Fairfax rushed into the room. 

"Florence, do come out for one moment, " she said; "Edith wants to tellyou something. "

"Oh, I can't go; I am busy, " said Florence, restlessly. 

"I wish you would come; it is something important; it is somethingabout to-night. Do come; Edith would come to you, but she is lookingafter two or three of the little ones in the cherry orchard. You cango back in five minutes. "

Uttering a hasty exclamation, and thrusting her mother's letter intoher pocket, Florence started up and followed Dolly. She forgot allabout her aunt's letter, which had fallen to the floor. 

She had scarcely left the room before Bertha Keys stepped forward, picked up the letter, read it from end to end, and having done so laidit back on Florence's desk. Florence returned presently, sat down byher desk, and, taking her mother's letter out of her pocket, read it. 

The little Mummy was in trouble; she had contracted a bad cold, thecold had resolved into a sharp attack of pleurisy. She was now on theroad to recovery, and Florence need not be the least bit anxious abouther, but she had run up a heavy doctor's bill, and had not theslightest idea how she was to meet it. 

"I do wish, Florence, my darling, " she said, "you could manage to letme have some of that pocket-money which your Aunt Susan sends you everyweek. If I could give the doctor even one pound I know he would waitfor the rest, and then there is the chemist, too, and I have to be alittle careful now that the weather is getting chilly, and must havefires in the evening, and so on. Oh, I am quite well, my precious pet, but a little help from you would see me round this tight corner. "

Florence ground her teeth and her eyes flashed. The little Mummy ill, ill almost to the point of danger. Better now, it is true, but wantingthose comforts which Aunt Susan had in such abundance. 

"I cannot stand it, " thought the girl. "What is to be done? By fairmeans or foul, I must get that Scholarship. Oh, I fear nothing. Ibelieve I am sure to win if only I can beat Kitty on her own ground. Her ground is history and literature. There is to be a horrible themewritten, and a great deal depends on how that theme is handled, and Iam no good at all at composition. I have no power with regard topicturesque writing. I cannot see pictures like Kitty can. I believeSir John has set that theme on purpose, in order to give Kitty anadvantage; if so, it is horribly unfair of him. "

Florence muttered these words to herself; then she glanced again at hermother's letter. She put her hand into her pocket and pulled out herpurse. That purse, owing to Aunt Susan's bounty, contained over twopounds. Florence resolved to send that two pounds to her motherimmediately. She began to write, but had scarcely finished her letterbefore Bertha Keys, equipped for a walk, briskly entered the room. 

"I am going to Hilchester, " she said; "have you any message, Florence?"

"Oh, I should be so much obliged if you would post a letter for me, "said Florence. 

"I will, with pleasure, " replied Bertha. 

"Can you wait five minutes? I shall not be longer than that writingit. "

"Yes, " replied Bertha. She went and stood by the low window-ledge, andFlorence bent over her sheet of paper. She wrote rapidly, a burningflush coming into each cheek. 

"Oh, darling little Mummy, " she wrote, "I am sending you all the moneyI have. Yes, you may be quite certain I will win the Scholarship byfair means or foul. I feel nearly mad when I think of your sufferings;but never mind, once the Scholarship is won and I am declared to theworld to be the Cherry Court Scholarship girl, once I am crowned queenon the great day of the Scholarship competition, I shall, I perceivewell, be able to do exactly what I like with Aunt Susan, and then besure you shall not want. Please, dear Mummy, pay what is necessary ofthis to the doctor, and get yourself what you can in the way ofnourishment. I am most, most anxious about you, my own darling littleMummy, and I vow at any risk that you shall have my ten shillings aweek for the present. What do the girls at the school matter? Whatmatters anything if you are ill? Oh, do take care of yourself for mysake, Mummy. "

Bertha Keys moved restlessly, and Florence, having addressed theenvelope and stamped it, went up to her. 

"Look here, " she said, eagerly, "I wish I could come with you, but Ican't, for I have my lessons to prepare, and this is the night of theconversazione. If you would be truly kind, would you do something forme!"

"Of course I'll be truly kind, " said Bertha; "I take a great interestin you, Miss Aylmer, but who would not who knew you well?"

"What do you mean by that?" said Florence, who was keenly susceptibleto flattery. 

Bertha gave a little contemptuous sniff. 

"You are the only girl in the school whose friendship is worthcultivating, " she said; "you have go and courage, and some day you willbe very handsome; yes, I feel sure of it. I wish you would let me helpyou to form your figure; you might draw your stays a little tighter, and do your hair differently. I wish you would let me be your friend. You are the only girl in the school whose friendship I care twopenceabout. "

"What!" said Florence, trembling slightly and looking full intoBertha's face, "do you think more about me than you do of KittySharston?"

The pupil teacher gave a slight shrug of her shoulders. 

"Miss Sharston, " she said; "oh, a nice little girl, very nice and veryamiable, but, my dear Miss Aylmer, you and she are not in the samerunning at all. But there, I must be quick; I have to return home intime to undress the little ones. Oh, what a lot is mine, and I pinefor so much, so much that I can never have. "

"Poor girl, I am sorry for you, " said Florence; "but there, I won'tkeep you any longer. See, this is what I want you to do. Will youconvert these two sovereigns into a postoffice order, and will you putit into this letter, and then fasten the envelope and put the wholeinto the post?"

Florence gave some more directions with regard to the postoffice order. In 1870 postal orders, much simpler things, were unknown. Bertha Keyspromised, took in all the directions quickly, and started off on hermission. 

She walked down the road as briskly as possible. The distance betweenHilchester and Cherry Court School was between two and three miles. The road was a lonely one. Bertha presently crossed a stile and foundherself in a shady lane. When she reached this point she looked behindher and in front of her; there was no one in sight. Then takingFlorence's letter out of her pocket, she slowly and quietly read thecontents. Having read them, a smile flitted across her face. 

"Little Mummy, " she said aloud, "you must do without your two pounds. Bertha Keys wants this money a great deal more urgently than you do. Florence must suppose that her letter has got lost in the post. Lether suppose what she will, this money is mine. "

Having made these remarks under her breath, Bertha calmly tore poorFlorence's letter into a thousand tiny fragments. These she scatteredto the four winds, and then, humming a gay air to herself, proceeded onher way to Hilchester. She transacted her business, went to a shop andpurchased out of one of Florence's sovereigns some gay ribbons andlaces for her own bedizenment, and then returned home. 

"Did you post my letter?" said Florence, who met her in one of thecorridors. 

"Yes, dear, I am glad to say it caught the evening post. "

"Then that's right, and mother will receive it early to-morrow, "thought the girl to herself. 

The feeling that her money would relieve her mother contrived to easeher overburdened conscience, and she was more cheerful andhappy-looking that evening. 

The next day at an early hour, as Florence was standing in the oakparlor alone for a wonder, for neither Mary Bateman nor Kitty Sharstonwere present, Bertha Keys came into the room. 

"The subject of the composition is to be set this afternoon, " she said. "You are good at composition, are you not, Miss Aylmer?"

"No, that is it--I am very bad indeed, " replied Florence. 

"I am very sorry, for I believe a great deal turns on the way thethemes are done. They must be very good ones. "

"I must do my best, " said Florence, in a gloomy voice; "there is notthe least doubt that I shall beat Kitty Sharston in mathematics andarithmetic, and as to Mary Bateman, she has not a scrap of imaginationin her composition. "

"But the little Kitty has a great deal, " said Miss Keys, in areflective tone. "I have read some of her themes; she has a poeticalmind. The programme for the great day is to be given out also thisafternoon, and I believe Sir John intends to read the three Scholarshipessays aloud, and the guests present are then to vote with regard tothe fortunate winner. Of course, the theme will not quite decide theScholarship, but it will go a very long way in that direction. I haveseen Sir John, and I know that all his tendencies, all his feelings arein favor of Miss Sharston. "

"There is little doubt on that point, " replied Florence; "if it werenot for Kitty Sharston this Scholarship would never have been offered. I wish it never had been offered, " she continued, with a burst ofconfidence which she could scarcely repress. "Oh, Miss Keys, I have agreat weight on my mind; I am a miserable girl. "

"I see you are, but why don't you confide in me? I believe I couldsympathize with you; I also believe I could help you. "

"I will, I must win, " said poor Florence. "Oh, I could scarcely sleeplast night with thinking of my mother. I am so truly, truly glad thatyou were able to post that letter in time; but for your happening to goto Hilchester she would not have had it this morning. Now she must befeeling great relief. "

"I can post as many more letters to your mother as you like, " saidBertha Keys. "I will do anything in my power for you; I want you tobelieve that. I want you to believe also that I am in a position togive you serious and substantial help. "

"Thank you, " said Florence. She gazed into Bertha's eyes, and felt astrange thrill. 

Bertha had a rare power of magnetism, and could influence almost anygirl who had not sufficiently high principles to withstand her power. 

She now hastily left the oak parlor to attend to her studies, andFlorence sat down to begin her studies. Her head ached, and she feltrestless and miserable. She envied Kitty's serene face and MaryBateman's downright, sensible way of attacking her subjects. 

"I cannot think how you keep so calm about it, " she said to Mary, inthe course of that morning; "suppose you lose?"

"I have thought it all out, " answered Mary, "and I cannot do more thanmy best. If I succeed I shall be truly, truly glad. If I fail I shallbe no worse off than I was before. I wish you would feel as I do aboutit, Florry, and not make yourself quite ill over the subject. The factis you are not half as nice as you were last term when everyone calledyou Tommy. "

"Oh, I know, I know, " answered Florence, "but I cannot go back now. What do you think the theme for the Scholarship will be?"

"I have not the slightest idea. That theme will be Kitty's strongpoint; there is not the slightest doubt about that. "

Florence bent again over her French exercise. She was fairly good atFrench, and her German was also passable, but as she read and workedand struggled through a difficult piece of translation her thoughtswandered again and again to the subject of the English theme. Whatwould it be? History, poetry, or anything literary?

The more she thought, the less she liked the idea of this supreme test. 

Dinner passed, and the moment for the reassembling of the school forafternoon work arrived. Just as all the girls were streaming into thelarge schoolroom, Mrs. Clavering came hurriedly forward. 

"Before you begin your duties this afternoon, young ladies, " she said, "I have received a communication from Sir John, and as you are allinterested in the Scholarship, which may be offered another year tosome further girls of Cherry Court School, I may as well say that Ihave just received a letter from him suggesting the theme for theessay. I will repeat to you what he has said. "

Mrs. Clavering stood beside her desk and looked down the longschool-room. The room contained at this moment every girl in theschool, also the teachers. Florence glanced in the direction of BerthaKeys. She was standing just where a ray of light from one of thewindows caught the reflection of her red hair, which surrounded herpale face like a glory. She wore it, not in the fashion of the day, but in an untidy and yet effective style. The girls of the day woretheir hair neatly plaited and smooth to their heads. 

One of Mrs. Clavering's special objections to Bertha was her untidyhead. She often longed to ask her to get a brush and smooth out thoserough locks. 

Nevertheless, that very roughness of her hair gave her face a look ofpower, and several girls gazed at her now half fascinated. Bertha'slight blue eyes flashed one glance in Florence's direction, and werethen lowered. She liked best to keep her most secret thoughts toherself. 

Mrs. Clavering glanced round the room, and then, opening Sir John'sletter, spread it out before her. 

"I will read you my friend's letter aloud, " she said; "you will allclearly understand what he says. " She then proceeded to read:

"MY DEAR MRS. CLAVERING: After a great deal of reflection I haveresolved that the all-important essay which the lucky three are towrite shall be on the following subject--Heroism. This opens up a widefield, and will test the capacities of each of the young competitors. The essay is to be written under the following conditions: It is to bethe unaided work of the competitor; it is to contain not less than twothousand words and not more than two thousand five hundred. It is tobe written without the aid of books of reference, and when finished isto be unsigned and put into a blank envelope. The three envelopescontaining the essays are to be handed to you, who will not open them, but will place them before me on the night of the Scholarshipcompetition. 

"Further particulars with regard to the competition I will let you knowin a few days, but I may as well say now that most of the examinationwill be _vivâ voce_, and will consist of eight questions relating tothe study of the French language, eight questions on the study of theGerman tongue, eight mathematical questions, eight arithmeticalquestions, eight questions on English History, and eight on EnglishLiterature. In addition, a piece of music will be played by each girland a song sung by each; but the final and most searching test of allwill be the essay, which in itself will contain, I doubt not, theinnermost heart of the competitor, for she cannot truly write onHeroism without understanding something of what a hero or heroineshould be. Thus that innermost spirit which must guide her life willcome to the front. Her spelling and English composition will besubjected to the best tests by means of those written words; herhandwriting will not go without comment; her style will be noted. Shecan make her essay rich with reference, and thus prove the variedquality of her reading. And the grace of her diction will to a certainextent testify to her ladylike deportment and the entire breadth of hereducation. 

"I need add no more. I have thought deeply over this matter, and trustmy subject will meet with universal approval. 

 "Yours very truly, "JOHN WALLIS. "

CHAPTER XVI. 

TEMPTATION

Amongst the many duties which fell to the care of Bertha Keys was theone of looking after the postbag. Every afternoon she took the girls'letters and put them in that receptacle, hanging the key on a littlehook in the hall. Morning after morning it was she who received thepostbag, unlocked it, and brought the contents to Mrs. Clavering, whoalways distributed the letters herself. Thus it was easy for Bertha toabstract the letters which contained the Dawlish postmark. She didthis for a reason. It would never do for Florence to find out that hermother had not received the letter with the postoffice order. 

Bertha knew well that if enquiries were made it could be quickly provedthat she had never obtained a postoffice order at all, and thus her ownruin would be the result of her theft. She had taken the twosovereigns in a momentary and strong impulse, and had since to acertain extent regretted her foolhardy and wicked deed. Not that sheregretted it because she had stolen the money, but because she fearedthe consequences. She now, therefore, had a double object for puttingFlorence Aylmer into her power. If she could do that, if by means ofsome underhand action on her part she could win the Scholarship forFlorence, Florence would help her in the future, and even if Bertha'stheft was known to her, would never dare to betray her. It is wellknown that it is the first step which costs, and Bertha's first theftwas followed by the purloining of several letters from poor Mrs. Aylmerto her daughter. 

At first Florence, relieved with regard to her mother's financialcondition, did not bother about this silence. She was very muchoccupied and intensely anxious on her own account, but when more than aweek went by and she had no letter from Dawlish, she began to getalarmed. What could be wrong?

In these days it would be easy for a girl to satisfy her nervousterrors by means of a telegram, but in 1870 a telegram cost a shilling, and Florence was now saving every penny of her money to send to hermother. She hoped soon to have another two pounds to transmit to herby means of a post-office order. For Mrs. Aylmer the great wasthoroughly generous now to Florence, and never a letter arrived whichdid not contain a money remittance. 

"She never guesses that it all goes to the little Mummy, that it helpsto cheer her life and to give her some of the comforts she needs, "thought the anxious girl; "but why, why does not Mummy write?"

When ten days had gone by, Florence sat down one morning and wrote toher mother:

"DARLING MUMMY: I cannot understand your silence. You have not evenacknowledged the post-office order which I sent to you. I meant towait until I could send you another postoffice order for two pounds, but I won't delay any longer, but will send you a postoffice order forone pound to-day. Darling, darling Mummy, I do wonder how you are. Please write by return mail to your loving daughter, FLORENCEAYLMER. "

Having written and signed her letter, Florence addressed it, stampedit, and laid it by her desk. She then took out some sheets ofmanuscript paper on which she was vainly endeavoring to sketch out ascheme for her essay on Heroism. The conditions which attached to thisessay were already neatly written out by Mrs. Clavering's directions, and were placed opposite to her on her desk: "The essay must containnot less than two thousand words. It must be the unaided work of thecompetitor. It must further be written without reference to books. "

Florence, smart enough about most things, was altogether foiled when awork which must so largely be a work of imagination was required of her. 

It was a half-holiday in the school, and Mary Bateman and KittySharston were not sharing the oak parlor with Florence. They were outin the cherry orchard; their gay voices and merry laughter might havebeen heard echoing away through the open window. 

Florence sighed heavily. As she did so she heard the handle of thedoor turn and Bertha Keys came softly in. Bertha brought a basket withher. It contained some stockings belonging to the little ones whichshe was expected to darn. She sat down on the low window-ledge and, threading her needle, proceeded to work busily. She did not glance inFlorence's direction, although Florence knew well that she was aware ofher presence, and in all probability was secretly watching her. 

The silence in the room was not broken for several minutes. Berthacontinued to draw her needle in and out of the little socks she wasdarning. Once or twice she glanced out of the open window, and once ortwice she cast a long, sly glance in the direction of Florence's benthead. The scratch of Florence's pen over the paper now and thenreached her ears. At last Florence stopped her work abruptly, leantback in her chair, stretched out her arms behind her head, uttered aprofound yawn which ended in a sigh, and then, turning round, she spoke. 

"I wish to goodness, Bertha, " she said, "you wouldn't sit there justlike a statue; you fidget me dreadfully. "

"Would you rather I went out of the room, dear?" said Bertha, gently. 

"No, no, of course not; only do you mind sitting so that I can see you?I hate to have anyone at my back. "

Bertha very quietly moved her seat. The oak parlor had many windows, and she now took one which exactly faced Florence. As she did so shesaid, in a very quiet, insinuating sort of voice, "How does the essayon Heroism proceed?"

"Oh, it does not proceed a bit, " said Florence; "I cannot master it. Iam not a heroine, and how can I write about one? I think it was a veryshabby trick on the part of Sir John Wallis to set us such a theme. "

"Don't worry about it if your head aches, " said Bertha. "You can onlydo work of that sort if you feel calm and in a good humor. Above allthings, for work of the imaginative order you must have confidence inyourself. "

"Then if I wait for the day when I have confidence in my own power andfeel perfectly calm, the essay will never be written at all, " saidFlorence. 

"That would be bad, " remarked Bertha; "you want to get thatScholarship, don't you?"

"I must get it; my whole life turns on it. "

Bertha smiled, sighed very gently, lowered her eyes once more, andproceeded with her darning. 

"I don't believe you have a bit of sympathy for me, " said Florence, inan aggrieved voice. 

"Yes, but I have; I pity you terribly. I see plainly that you aredoomed to the most awful disappointment. "

"What do you mean? I tell you I will get the Scholarship. "

"You won't unless you write a decent essay. "

"Oh, Bertha, you drive me nearly mad; I tell you I will get it. "

"All the willing and the wishing in the world won't make the impossiblecome to pass, " retorted Bertha, and now she once more threaded herdarning-needle and took out another stocking from the basket. 

"Then what is to be done?" said Florence. "Do you know what willhappen if I fail?"

"No; tell me, " said Bertha, and now she put down her stocking andlooked full into the face of her young companion. 

"Aunt Susan will give me up. I have told you about Aunt Susan. "

"Ah, yes, have you not? I can picture her, the rich aunt with thegenerous heart, the aunt who is devoted to the niece, and small wonder, for you are a most attractive girl, Florence. The aunt who providesall the pretty dresses, and the pocket-money, and the good things, andwho has promised to take you into society by and by, to make you agreat woman, who will leave you her riches eventually. It is a largestake, my dear Florence, and worth sacrificing a great deal to win. "

"And you have not touched on the most important point of all, " saidFlorence. "It is this: I hate that rich aunt who all the time means somuch to me, and I love, I adore, I worship my mother. You would thinknothing of my mother, Bertha, for she is not beautiful, and she is notgreat; she is perhaps what you would call commonplace, and she hasvery, very little to live on, and that very little she owes to my aunt, but all the same I would almost give my life for my mother, and if Ifail in the Scholarship my mother will suffer as much as I. Oh, dear!oh, dear! I am an unhappy girl!"

Bertha rose abruptly, walked over to Florence, and laid her hand on hershoulder. 

"Now, look here, " she said, "you can win that Scholarship if you like. "

"How so? What do you mean?"

"Are you willing to make a great sacrifice to win it?"

"A great sacrifice?" said Florence, wearily; "what can you mean?"

"I will tell you presently, but first of all amuse yourself by readingthis. "

"Oh, I am in no mood to amuse myself; I must face my terrible position. "

"Ah, I see you have written a letter to your mother; shall I put it inthe postbag for you?"

"No, thank you; I mean to walk into Hilchester myself presently. Iwant to post that letter myself. I am anxious at not hearing frommother; she has never acknowledged my last postoffice order. I mean tosend her another to-day, and I want to post the letter myself. "

"Then I will walk into Hilchester with you after tea. We shall haveplenty of time to get there and back before dark. "

"Thank you, " said Florence; "that will do very well. "

"Now, then, read this. Put your essay away for the present. I can seeby the expression on your face that you have a terrible headache. "

"But why should I read that, Bertha? What is it?"

Bertha had thrust into Florence's hand a small magazine. It was called"The Flower of Youth, " and had a gay little cover of bright pink. There were one or two pictures inside, rather badly done, forblack-and-white drawings in cheap magazines were not a special featureof the early seventies. The letterpress was also printed on poorpaper, and the whole get-up of the little three-penny weekly wasshabby. Nevertheless, Florence glanced over it with a momentaryawakening of interest in her eyes. 

"I never heard of 'The Flower of Youth' before, " she said. "Is it awell-known magazine?"

"It is one of the first magazines of the day, " said Bertha, in a proudvoice; "will you read this little paper?"

Florence's eyes lighted upon a short essay. It was called "TheContented Heart, " and her first glance at it made her sigh. 

"My heart is so terribly discontented I don't want to read about thecontented heart just now, " she said. 

"Oh, but I do wish you would; it is not long, Florence. "

Urged by a peculiar look in Bertha's eyes, Florence did read the shortessay. It was couched in plain language and was forcible and to acertain extent clever. It occupied but a couple of pages, and havingonce begun, Florence read on to the end without a pause. 

"Well, " she said at last, "I should judge by that writing that theauthor had not a contented mind. It seems to say a great deal aboutthings the other way round. "

"Ah, but how do you judge the writing? Is that good or bad?"

"Good, I should say; it interested me immensely. I was full of worriesand it seemed to lift them and smooth them away. I forgot them for thetime being. Yes, I should say that essay was well written, but Ididn't think about the writing at all. "

"Ah, then it was well written, " said Bertha. "But it is nearly teatime; don't let us say anything more about it now. I will tell youwhen we are walking to Hilchester. "

She caught up the little magazine, thrust it into her pocket, and leftthe room without glancing at Florence again. 

"What a queer girl she is!" thought Florence to herself. She had runup to her room to wash her hands, for tea, and presently joined hercompanions in the tea-room. 

Half an hour later Florence and Bertha were on their way to Hilchester. Both girls were feeling anxious. Florence had that weight of care everat her heart, and Bertha was wondering by what means she could smugglethe letter to Mrs. Aylmer out of her daughter's hands. Think and thinkas she would, however, she could see no way of preventing thatpostoffice order being obtained, of its being slipped into theenvelope, and put into the post. She was noted for her ready wit, however, and ingenuity, and she could only now trust to what she termeda lucky chance. One thing, however, was more important than ever; shemust as quickly as possible get Florence into her power. 

"Well, " she said, as the two girls strolled arm in arm down the shadylane towards Hilchester, "you wonder, don't you, why I showed you 'TheFlower of Youth' this morning?"

"I had forgotten all about it, " said Florence, frowning. 

"I will tell you now. You admired that little paper on a contentedheart!"

"It interested me, " said Florence, "but why do you harp so about it? Ihave so much to think of, it is rather bothering for you to go backagain and again to the same subject. The writer of that paper has nota contented heart. "

"How clever of you to say that, for it is true. "

"True! Do you know the writer?"

"I happen to know her. "

"You know a real live author! Are you joking, Bertha? You must bejoking. "

"I know her, " said Bertha, casting down her eyes, and a modestexpression creeping over her face, "I know her well, for she--don'tstart away from me, Flo--she happens to be your humble servant. "

"Now you must be joking! You are the author of 'The Contented Heart'?"

"I am, dear. I got five shillings for that little essay; not much, youwill say, but better than nothing. The editor praised me and asked formore. I write occasionally in 'The Flower of Youth, ' and when I amvery hard up I am glad of the few shillings my writings bring me. "

"Then you are a real genius, " said Florence "and I respect you. "

"I am glad you respect me; I always had a gift for writing. "

"I should like to read your essay, 'The Contented Heart, ' again. "

"You shall, dear, you shall. I have always said that you couldunderstand me, Florence, but you must not reveal my secret. I wouldnot have it known in the school for worlds that I am an author. Itwould be fatal. "

"But why? Are you not proud of the fact?"

"Oh, yes, I am proud of it, but perhaps Mrs. Clavering might notapprove. People have strange ideas in these days. They think when agirl puts herself into print she makes herself too public. "

"But they can't think that. Why, they would make you into a perfectheroine; you are a great, great genius, Bertha. "

"I am glad you think I have a little talent, " said Bertha, in a modestvoice. 

"But it is a great deal more. Have you ever written stories?"

"A few; but I have never published any. "

"Some day you will write a great book, a book that will live. You willbe a second Currer Bell. "

"Ah, how I adore 'Jane Eyre, '" said Bertha, in a low, intense voice. "Currer Bell has a great soul; she lifts the curtain, she reveals toyou her heart. "

"I wish I could read 'Jane Eyre' again, " said Florence. "I read itonce when I was at home for the holidays, but Mrs. Clavering does notapprove of novels. "

"Mrs. Clavering is a little old-fashioned. Let us walk quickly, Florence. Do you know that I write poetry, too?"

"Oh, then you are a tremendous genius. "

"I have a little talent, " replied Bertha once more; "but now, Florence, I have a suggestion to offer. "

There was something in her tone which caused Florence's heart to beat;she seemed to guess all of a sudden what was coming. 

Bertha turned and gazed at her. "Look here, " she said, "I don't dothings without a reason. I am anxious to be your friend because--well, because I do like you, and also because I think you may be useful to meby and by. "

"I am sure I cannot imagine what you mean, for it is not in my power tobe useful to anyone. Your friendship for me must be disinterested, Bertha. "

"That is as it may be, " answered Bertha, in a dubious voice; "we willsay nothing on that point at present. You want to get the Scholarship?"

"I must get it. "

"You shall, with my aid. "

"Now what do you mean?"

"It all depends on yourself, Florence. How much are you prepared tosacrifice to win the Scholarship?"

"To sacrifice? to sacrifice?" Florence felt very uneasy. She tried towriggle away from her companion, who held her arm firmly. "Tosacrifice?" she repeated. 

"Yes, that's just about it--how much?"

"Well, my time--my health even. "

"You must go a little further than that, Florence, if you mean to win. "

"What do you mean?"

"I will be quite plain with you, " said Bertha. "If you are notprepared to sacrifice more than your time, more than your health, youwill fail, for Kitty Sharston has what you have not. She has theimaginative mind and the noble heart. "

"Oh, " said Florence. She colored, and tried to wriggle once again awayfrom her companion. 

"I must speak plainly, " said Bertha. "At a moment like this there isno good beating about the bush. Kitty will write an essay on Heroismwhich will win her the Scholarship; she will do so because she isanimated by a very great and noble love. She will do so because shehas got poetry in her composition. You must face that fact. As toMary Bateman, she is out of the running. She is a good girl and mighteven go ahead of you were the theme not the supreme and final test; butthat being the test, Kitty will win. You may as well put down youroars at once, Florence; you may as well lower your colors, if youcannot compete with Kitty on her own ground. "

"I know it; it is shockingly unfair. "

"But all the same, you can win if you will make the supreme sacrifice. "

"What is that?"

"The sacrifice of your honor. "

"Oh, no; oh, no; oh, what do you mean?"

"That is what I mean. You can think it all over. I will make mysuggestion, for I know you won't betray me. I will write your essayfor you. I can do it. I can write on noble things; I am welleducated; I am to a certain extent a practiced writer. I may not haveKitty's talent, but I have--what she has not--the practiced pen. Shewill struggle, but she cannot succeed against me. I will write theessay on Heroism, and you shall accept it as your work. Now, think itover; don't answer me at once. "

CHAPTER XVII. 

THE FALL. 

The remainder of that walk was taken in complete silence. Florence'shead felt as if it were going round. There was a buzzing noise in herears. Higher and yet higher over her moral nature did the waves oftemptation rise. She struggled, but each struggle was feebler than thelast. They reached Hilchester, and Bertha looked at her companion. 

"You are as white as a sheet, " she said; "won't you go in and rest atMrs. Baker's shop? I shall call there presently for buns and things Iam bringing back for the conversazione to-night; she will gladly letyou rest. The postoffice is quite five minutes' walk from here. Letme post your letter for you. Have you the money in your pocket for theorder?"

"I think I will rest at Mrs. Baker's, " said Florence. "You will besure to get the order all right, Bertha? Here is the letter; put theorder in, won't you, and then put the letter in the post?"

"Yes, yes, " said Bertha; "I'll be as quick as possible. "

She almost snatched the letter from Florence's hand, took thesovereign, slipped it into her purse, and walked down the street withrapid strides. In less than a quarter of an hour she had returned toFlorence. 

"It is all right, " she said, briskly; "and now for my commissions here. I hope you are more rested, Flo. "

"Oh, yes, I am quite rested, " replied Florence; but there was a deadsort of look on her face and the color had gone out of her eyes. 

Bertha walked briskly to the counter. She was in excellent spirits, her carriage was perfectly upright, her well-poised head looked almostqueenly as it rested on her graceful shoulders. Her figure wasBertha's strong point, and it never looked better than now. EvenFlorence as she glanced at her was conscious of a dull admiration. 

How clever Bertha was, and really, when you come to consider hercarefully, how stylish and good-looking!

"I shall never again as long as I live say that I dislike red hair, "thought Florence to herself. "Yes, Bertha certainly has a remarkableface; no wonder she is able to write; and as to her eyes, I shall endby liking her eyes. They do look as if they held a secret power. "

Bertha having given her orders now, waited until Mrs. Baker, theconfectioner's wife, had made up the cakes and biscuits and chocolatecreams which were necessary for the evening conversazione. Each girlthen carried a large parcel, and retraced her steps in the direction ofCherry Court School. Their walk back was as silent as the latter partof their walk to Hilchester. 

Just as they were entering the porch of the school Bertha laid her handon her companion's arm. 

"Well?" she said. 

"I cannot give you my answer to-night; I will to-morrow, " said Florence. 

"All right, Flo; but let me tell you in advance I know what that answerwill be. "

Florence felt a shudder run all through her frame. She ran upstairs tothe dormitory. It was late, and time to dress for the eveningfestivities. 

Kitty was in her cubicle. Mary Bateman in hers. Neither girl haddrawn her curtain, and when they saw Florence they each began to talkto her. 

"Do you know, Florence, " said Mary, "that that little genius Kitty hasabsolutely written her essay, finished it all between tea and thishour. She means to polish it to-morrow, but the rough draft is done. I feel quite in despair when I look at her. "

"Oh, you need not; I don't suppose it is good a bit, " said Kitty. 

"I dare not ask you what it is about, " said Mary, "or I would lovebeyond words to read it. When I look at your face and then think thatyou were asked to write on Heroism, I feel that you were given a taskwhich neither Florence nor I can execute. "

"Speak for yourself, pray, " said Florence, in a cross voice. She gavea vindictive glance at Mary, avoided meeting Kitty's eyes, and vanishedinto her own cubicle. Here she drew the turkey-red curtain, glancedwildly round, and the next moment had dropped on her knees. 

"Oh, please, God, save me from myself, " whispered the wretched girl. "Help me out of this somehow. Give me the strength to write the essaymyself. Oh, please, God, I must--I must have the Scholarship. Please, please give me the ability, the genius to write the essay myself. "

Her wild, distracted prayer was the reverse of soothing. She sprangup, poured some water into her basin, and began to wash her face andhands; then she dressed herself neatly and gracefully. There were nolack of pretty dresses now for Florence Aylmer to bedeck herself in. She took great pains with her toilet. There was a certainsatisfaction, as she donned her silken chains, in knowing that at leastshe could look as well as Kitty, nicer even than Kitty, as far as dresswas concerned. 

Mrs. Aylmer the great had excellent taste, and every one of Florence'sfrocks were suitable for Florence to wear. They were all girlish andsimple. The frock she chose to-night was of a very pale pink. It wasmade of the simplest stuff, and was not trimmed at all. It gave graceto her figure and added to her height. A little ruffle of lacesurrounded her girlish throat, and on her arm she slipped a goldbangle, Mrs. Aylmer's latest present. She then ran downstairs to thedrawing-room. In her pretty shoes and silk stockings and well-fittingdress Florence made quite a graceful figure. She dropped a curtsey atthe door as she was required to do, and then, going forward, took herplace beside Kitty Sharston and Mary Bateman. 

These three girls were, according to the rules of the competition, toentertain their companions. Neither Kitty nor Mary were in the leastself-conscious, and to-night Florence also, in the pressure of a greatmisery, contrived to forget herself. 

Mrs. Clavering looked at her with distinct approval. 

"How that girl has improved, " she said, bending towards Sir JohnWallis, who invariably appeared on these occasions. "She will end inbeing handsome. "

"Yes, she is a distinguished-looking girl, " said Sir John, justglancing at Florence, and then looking away again, "but Kitty is mychoice; give me the little wildflower Kitty. How sweet she is!"

"Well, of course, she belongs to a totally different order of being, "said Mrs. Clavering, dropping her voice; "but what about theScholarship, Sir John?"

"I dare not think of anyone else winning it, " said Sir John; "but, ofcourse, I have to face the fact that either of the other girls maysucceed. Above all things, one must act fairly. "

"I just doubted whether you gave a fair subject for the essay, " saidMrs. Clavering. 

"What do you mean?"

"Heroism, " repeated the head mistress, speaking slowly and dropping hervoice. "With such a subject you appeal so distinctly to the heart. Ifthe heart does not respond, the essay on Heroism will never be donejustice to. "

"Ay, it is the supreme test, the supreme test, " said Sir John, slowly. Again his eyes wandered to Kitty. From her charming, bright, anxiousface he looked at Florence. It so happened that at that momentFlorence had raised her own dark eyes and fixed them on him. Thesuffering she had lately lived through had added refinement to herface, and the baronet caught himself looking at her again and again. 

"Yes, she has improved; there is something in her; but what is she sounhappy about, I wonder?" he thought. 

Just then Mary Bateman skipped up, asked his opinion with regard to afresh sketch she was making, and carried him away to chat with her in acorner. 

Next to Kitty, Sir John certainly liked plain little Mary best. 

Light refreshments were brought in on little trays, and the girls wereinvited to partake. The three young hostesses acted with _aplomb_ andmuch tact. Dull girls were drawn out of themselves, lively girls wereplaced with suitable companions. Games were proposed, which were allconducted in a spirited and lively manner, and finally the proceedingsended with a gay dance. It was at this moment, just when the dance wasin full swing, that Sir John Wallis came up and offered his arm toFlorence. 

"Will you waltz with me?" he said. 

She looked up at him, colored with delight, and laid her hand on hisarm. The two led the dance, and right merry was the music which wasplayed to it. 

The dance had just come to an end when Sir John looked full at Florenceand spoke. 

"I heard from your aunt, Mrs. Aylmer, and she is much pleased to acceptmy invitation. She will be my guest on the evening of the 29th, and Ihope I may persuade her to stay a few days longer. You must see agreat deal of her while she is at Cherry Court Park. You are a greatfavorite with her, are you not?"

"Of late I have been a favorite, " said Florence, and now she lookedfull at Sir John and her lip trembled. 

"There is something the matter with you, my dear, " said Sir John. 

"Oh, I don't know--nothing. " Then she added, as if the words werewrung from her lips, "I hate Aunt Susan. "

"Oh, come, come, " said Sir John, truly shocked; "let me tell you thatis a very unladylike way of speaking and scarcely fair to your aunt, who is doing so much for you. "

"That is all you know, Sir John, but I dare not say any more. "

"But having said so much, I am afraid you must. I asked you threegirls what special friend or relation you would like to be present inthe hour of your triumph, and you selected Mrs. Aylmer. If you did notlike Mrs. Aylmer, why did you ask her to come? I would gladly havereceived your own mother. "

"I will tell you, " said Florence, in a hurried voice. "Mrs. Aylmer ismuch interested in your Scholarship, Sir John, and she says if I win itthat she will adopt me. I shall be her--her heiress then. Youunderstand that it means a great deal to me, the Scholarship?"

"Yes, I understand, " said Sir John, gravely. His face looked troubled. "Sit down here, my dear, " he said. Florence seated herself on a chairby his side. "I can understand, and I am sorry; it is scarcely fairthat your young mind should be strained to this extent. And if youdon't win the Scholarship?"

"Ah, if I don't, Aunt Susan will not need you to ask me much to CherryCourt Park. She will wash her hands of me. "

"Indeed, this is disturbing. "

"I ought not to have told you, and you must pretend that you do notknow. "

"I shall say nothing, of course; all the same, I am sorry. "

Sir John sat very thoughtful for a moment. After a long pause he spoke. 

"I ought not to give you any special advantage over the other girls, "he said, "but suppose I do this?"

"What?" asked Florence, looking into his face. 

"Suppose I have Mrs. Aylmer as my guest and allow you to chooseanother? What about your mother, Miss Aylmer?"

"Oh, do you mean it?" said Florence; her face flushed, and then turnedpale. She had a wild, wild thought that even if she failed her motherwould not turn from her. She had a choking sensation in her throat, which made her feel that even in the moment of absolute defeat thelittle Mummy's kisses would be supporting, cheering, encouraging. Tears brimmed into her eyes. "You are very good, " she said. 

"Then I'll do it; give me your mother's address. She shall be yourguest; the other Mrs. Aylmer shall be mine. And now cheer up, my dear;we can never do more than our best. "

Sir John turned aside, and soon afterwards the little party broke up. 

That night Florence hardly slept. At a very early hour she awoke. Shehad prayed her prayer of the night before; she had asked God to helpher. As to not winning the Scholarship, that was absolutely andcompletely out of the question. She must win it. The thought ofdisgrace was too intolerable; she must, she would win it. Shedetermined to rise now and test her powers of composition. It wasbetween five and six in the morning. She rose very softly, got intoher clothes, and stole out of the dormitory. 

The light was just beginning to dawn, but there was not light enough towork. Florence slipped softly down to the oak parlor; having secured acandle and a box of matches, she lit the candle and placed it on herdesk, and, taking out a sheet of manuscript paper, she pressed her faceon her hands, once again uttered a wild, passionate prayer, and then, dipping the pen in the ink, waited for inspiration. 

"Heroism, " she said, under her breath. "What did it mean?" All thatit really meant rushed over her--self-denial, self-abnegation, thenoble courage which comes to those who think of others, not themselves. "I cannot write, " she said, passionately. She said the words aloud, dashing down her pen and making a blot on the fair sheet of manuscriptpaper. At that moment the door was opened and Bertha came in. 

"I thought I heard a noise, " she said; "so it is you? What are youdoing there, Florence?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing; but why have you come to tempt me?" saidFlorence. She raised two haggard eyes to the pupil teacher's face. 

"Not to tempt you, but to help you, poor child. Of course, you will dowhat I wish. There, Florence, I wrote your essay for you last night. It came over me and I wrote it without much trouble. Here it is, dear;you have only to copy it; put it in your desk for the present, there isplenty of time, and go back to bed, dear, for you look worn out. "

Florence burst into tears. The next moment she had flung her armsaround Bertha's neck and laid her head on her shoulder. 

"There, there, " said Bertha, "there, there, you are overcome, but itwill be all right now. "

CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE GUESTS ARRIVE. 

It wanted three days to the Scholarship competition. The girls whowere called in the school the lucky three now scarcely spoke on thesubject--the other girls watched them anxiously. All lessons, exceptthose in connection with the Scholarship, were suspended so far as MaryBateman, Kitty Sharston, and Florence Aylmer were concerned. 

The trial essays, the essays which were to be the supreme test ofmerit, were all written, and in sealed envelopes were handed in to Mrs. Clavering. Meanwhile exercises on history, French, German, arithmetic, were the order of the hour. The girls were busy all day long. Thethree faces were somewhat pale, and lines which ought not to haveappeared round the young eyes and lips were beginning to makethemselves manifest. 

"I shall be truly thankful when the thing is over, " said Mrs. Claveringto Sir John; "this is bad for them, very bad. In particular I do notlike Florence Aylmer's expression. The girl thinks too much about thismatter. If she fails she will have an illness. "

"And if she succeeds Kitty will fail or have an illness, " said SirJohn, restlessly. 

"Kitty will feel it, but she will not have an illness, " said Mrs. Clavering; "you have but to see the expression on the two faces to knowthat. Kitty is anxious also and resolved, but there is a firm, steady, fine sort of expression about her, quite the reverse of poorFlorence's. "

"Yes, I confess I do not understand that girl, " said Sir John; "andyet, " he added, "I cannot help liking her; she has a good deal in her. "

"I pity her, poor child, " said Mrs. Clavering; "she is placed in a veryfalse position. I once met her aunt, Mrs. Aylmer, of Aylmer's Court;that was on the occasion when Florence was brought to my school, and Iconfess I did not take to her. "

Sir John shrugged his shoulders. 

"It is invidious to speak of a lady who is soon to be one's guest, " hesaid, "but I also have met Mrs. Aylmer. "

On the morning of the same day Florence had received a letter from hermother. Bertha Keys had gone away on the previous evening to visit asick cousin, and in consequence had not the charge of the postbag. Shewas very unwilling to leave at this critical moment, but the cousin wasill, required her services. Mrs. Clavering was willing to spare herfor one night, there was no help for it; she must go. "I must onlytrust that no letter will come from Dawlish, " she said to herself; "butafter all, even if it does, it cannot really matter. Florence mustsooner or later feel that she is in my power; perhaps the sooner thebetter. "

Florence found the letter from her mother on the breakfast-table. Shestretched out her hand, caught it with a firm grip, thrust it into herpocket, and then applied herself to her breakfast. 

"Why don't you read your letter? You know you are allowed to do so, "said Edith King, who was seated next to her. 

"Oh, it will do after breakfast, " said Florence. 

"You don't look well, Flo; what is the matter with you?"

"I am a little anxious, if you must know, " said Florence, turning roundand glancing at her companion; "I have not heard from my mother for twoor three weeks; but there, of course, it is all right. She has noteven told me whether she has accepted Sir John Wallis's invitation. Sir John told me he had written, but I cannot tell whether she iscoming or not. "

"It will be delightful for you if she does come, will it not?" saidEdith King. 

"Oh, yes, delightful, " answered Florence. She did not speak any more, but finished her breakfast somewhat hastily. At the first moment shecould find herself alone Florence rushed into the cherry orchard andtore open her letter. It contained the following words:

"MY DARLING CHILD:

"Such a wonderful, extraordinary, delightful thing has happened. It isso unexpected that it quite puts out of my head a great deal which hasmade me anxious up to the present. I have received a letter from noless a person than Sir John Wallis, the distinguished owner of thatmagnificent place, Cherry Court Park, and he has invited me, mydarling, to be present at the moment of your great triumph. He says, which I regret very much, that your Aunt Susan will also be there, butI am asked as your guest, my child. It is all most wonderful, unexpected, and truly fascinating. The effect on the neighbors isalready so surprising that I have literally not been obliged to providemyself with a single meal since the news came. The Pratts have invitedme each morning to breakfast, and Ann Pratt has assiduously catechizedme, so much so that I have found an ancient book on the 'baronial hallsof England, and have worked up some information for her benefit fromthis volume. I never saw anyone so eager as the creature is to findout Sir John's income and all about him. It is extraordinary, butstill quite human nature. 

"Sukey is wonderfully affected since the news came, and in fact rightand left your poor Mummy is quite an honored individual. 

"I feel like a heroine, my darling, and walk about Dawlish with my headwell up. I am also quite extravagant, and am wearing that dress whichI described to you as being turned for the fifth time. It is recklessof me, but I cannot help it. For what do you think, dear?--Sir Johnhas sent me a check for my expenses. He says that he could notpossibly ask me to be present if I were put to any expense in thematter, and he has absolutely sent me twenty pounds; so I shall be ableto buy a suitable costume to be present in when I see my darlingcrowned with glory. 

"Oh, what a supreme moment it will be! I have already got the blacksilk, and Miss Macgregor, in the Parade--you know what a fashionabledressmaker she is--is making it up. I shall, of course, wear mywidow's bonnet, as it looks so _distingué_, and Mrs. Sweat, themilliner in the High Street, is making up a new one, most stylish. 

"I can add no more now. My heart goes pit-a-pat. When you receivethis I shall be packing for my journey. It will be splendid to seeSusan in the moment of your triumph. Altogether, dear, I never feltmore elated in my life. This great and unexpected excitement hasperfectly restored my health. I say to myself--you know, Flo, I alwayswas a reckless little woman--I say to myself, 'Never mind, enjoy thepresent, Mabel Aylmer, even if afterwards comes the deluge. ' Good-bye, my dearest; we shall soon meet and embrace. 

 "Your most affectionate "MOTHER. "

Florence read the letter over once or twice. She then put it in herpocket and paced thoughtfully up and down the cherry orchard. Thecherry trees were rapidly dropping their leaves now, and some of themfell over Florence. She shook them off impatiently. 

"It was queer of mother never to mention those postoffice orders whichI sent her, " thought the girl; "she has not even thanked me for them;but there, I suppose it is all right, and she is very happy. It wasgood of Sir John to send her that twenty pounds, and yet--and yet itchokes me to think of it. He would not dare to send the money toKitty's cousin, Helen Dartmoor, nor would he dare to send it to MaryBateman's father. Oh, if I can only win this Scholarship I shall holdmy head high and exercise that pride, which, after all, no woman oughtto be without. "

Florence went back to the house, and soon afterwards Bertha Keysentered the oak parlor. In the course of the morning she sat next toFlorence, who bent towards her and said, "I have had a long letter frommy mother. "

"Oh, indeed, " said Bertha, changing color in spite of herself; "andwhat did she say?"

"She is coming to Cherry Court Park. Bertha, it is rather queer shehas said nothing at all about the postoffice orders. I wonder if shegot them safely. "

"Is it likely she didn't?" replied Bertha, in a calm voice; "of courseshe did. She was too excited to think of them; to have an invitationof that sort would absorb her very much. "

"It does absorb her very much indeed, " replied Florence. "Doubtlessshe forgot. Well, I shall soon see her and be able to ask her allabout the matter. "

Sir John Wallis had arranged that the three girls who were to competefor the Scholarship were to arrive at Cherry Court Park early on themorning of the great day. They were to sleep there that night, andreturn to the school the following day. The rest of the school were toarrive in the evening, but the Scholarship girls were to have the runof the Hall, and were to be entertained as the honored guests duringthe whole of the important day. 

No girls could possibly be more excited than these three when at lastthe morning broke. Florence, who had scarcely slept at all theprevious night, felt that she would be almost glad, even if the worstbefell her, to have the terrible ordeal over. 

"By this time to-morrow I shall be the happiest girl in the world orthe most truly miserable, " she thought to herself. But the greatnessof the ordeal now had a certain composing effect, and Kitty, Mary andFlorence started off in Sir John's carriage in apparently high spirits. 

"What do you think?" said Kitty, bending forward and touching Mary onthe sleeve; "Sir John has promised if I succeed to send a cable tofather. Isn't it perfectly splendid of him? He has not said anythingto father about the cable. What a surprise and delight it will be ifhe gets it. "

"I wish you would not tell me, " said Mary; "when I look into your eyesand see all that this means to you I feel a perfect brute, and yetnevertheless I mean to play my very best to-night, and to sing with allmy heart in my voice, and to answer each question as carefully as Ican, for my dear, dear old father will be present. Oh, how happy, howdelighted I shall be to meet him again!"

"Yes, it will be splendid for you; and you, Florence, how glad you willbe to see your mother, " said Kitty. "But, oh, dear! oh, dear! I wishit hadn't been necessary to ask Helen Dartmoor to be present on thegreat occasion. "

The girls went to the Hall in neat morning dresses, but the whitedresses they were to wear in the evening, which were by Sir John'sorders to be pure white, had already been sent on to the Hall. 

The day was a glorious one, and as they drove through the beautifulscenery in Sir John's immense park a golden mist lay over everything. At last they drew up before the great front entrance. A group ofladies were standing in the hall. Sir John came down the steps. Thenext moment a little figure was seen running briskly forward, andFlorence was clasped in the arms of the little Mummy. 

"My darling! my darling!" said little Mrs. Aylmer. Florence kissed herwith a quick passion, held her then at arm's length, looked into herface, and crushed some moisture out of her own eyes. 

Meanwhile a very trim, staid-looking woman, with faded hair, pale blueeyes, and a correct, old-maid sort of demeanor, had given Kitty a lightkiss on her forehead. "How do you do?" she said, in an accent whichwas truly Scotch. "It was very kind of Sir John to invite me to theHall. I hope, for your own sake, you will win the Scholarship. "

Kitty answered as brightly as she could. 

"If not, of course, you are fully aware that you will be my guest forthe next two or three years. It is scarcely likely you will win theScholarship, and I have already been making all the arrangements Icould with regard to your instruction, " said Miss Dartmoor. "Will youcome round the place now with me; I should like to have someconversation with you. I have not seen you for some little time. "

Kitty gave a wild glance round. Would not Sir John help her? HelenDartmoor was the only person in the world that she truly disliked. Shefelt a restless sensation rising up in her heart, but there was noescape. Sir John had gone off with Mary Bateman and Mary's father. Florence and her mother had already vanished inside the house. Kittyhad to submit to her fate. 

Helen Dartmoor walked with prim, small steps. She had a littlethree-cornered shawl on her shoulders, and an old-fashioned bonnet wastied under her chin. Her perfectly cold, serene face glanced now andthen at Kitty. 

"You are not improved, Catherine, " she said. 

"Why do you say that?" replied Kitty. 

"You look anxious and excitable. I dislike a woman showing anyemotion. Of course, you are only a child yet, but I trust if I havethe care of you, which I fully expect to have--for it is scarcelylikely you will for a single moment win this ridiculous Scholarship--Itrust that I shall send you out to your father a well-mannered anddecorous woman. I have the greatest dislike to the manners of thepresent day, and the new sort of girl who is growing up so rapidly inour midst is thoroughly abhorrent to me. "

"Well, Helen, " said Kitty, glancing full at her, "I know you won't mindif I am frank. I certainly wish to win the Scholarship; I amstruggling with all my might and main to win it. It is of the utmostimportance to me, for I want to be as well educated as possible when Igo to dear father in India; but if I fail--yes, Helen, I will try myvery best to please you while I am under your roof. "

"Hoots, lass, you cannot do more, but do not speak in such exaggeratedphrases. Now let us walk down this avenue. What a beautiful view!How soothing is nature in all her aspects!"

Kitty could not help shuddering. "Oh, dear! oh, dear!" she whispered, under her breath, "how am I to live if I lose the Scholarship!"

Meanwhile little Mrs. Aylmer, clasping a firm hold of Florence's arm, had carried her off right through the house and into one of the gardensat the back. "Your Aunt Susan is not down yet, " she said; "it is themost merciful Providence, for I judge from her manner of last nightthat she means to absorb you. Now, then, darling, tell me what areyour chances?"

"Oh, I don't know, mother; I suppose they are pretty good, and I havetried my best--I can't do any more. "

"Really, Florence, you look quite splendid; I would not know you forthe same girl. How your figure has changed; you have attained quite anelegant shape, my love--small waist, rounded form, a little pale, palerthan I should wish, but your eyes have greatly improved; they have gota sort of pathetic expression in them which is very becoming, verybecoming indeed. " Mrs. Aylmer danced in front of Florence, examiningeach feature critically, her own small eyes twinkling, and her roundface flushing in her excitement. 

"Oh, isn't it a magnificent place?" she said, "and such a dinner asthey had last night--course after course, if you'll believe me. Ishould think there must have been fifteen courses if there was one. Ikept counting them, and then my poor head got so confused, for I wasseated not far from Sir John, and he talked to me in such a kind, marked sort of way, and your Aunt Susan kept glittering her pale blueeyes at me as if she was eaten up with jealousy. I tell you, mydarling, I did enjoy myself; I gave myself away, and talked in a frank, pleasant, easy sort of style. I made several of the guests laugh, Idid really. Florence, my dear, my dress is beautiful; it quite standsout with richness. I assure you, my love, you will have no cause to beashamed of your little Mummy to-night. I got Miss Macgregor to put ayard and a half of train into the back--a yard and a half, Flo, and itquite adds to my height. I have not had such a lovely dress since yourpoor dear father's time--that I haven't. I thought I would like tothank Sir John in private, and to tell him that I have made the moneyfor my expenses go so far that I was able to purchase the dress. "

"Oh, mother, please, please, mother, don't!" said Florence, in a toneof agony. 

"Why not, my sweet child? If Sir John knows that I am thoroughly poorhe may give me another little _douceur_--there's no saying. "

"Oh, mother, mother, you don't know what agony this gives me!"

"My poor child, but are not you glad that your little Mummy has gotsome money? Dear me, Flo, I have been ill since you saw me last. Iwas almost at death's door, and Dr. Hunt was so kind, coming in two orthree times a day. But there, I have not paid his bill yet; it isfearful to think of it! Now, I should really like to take Sir Johninto my confidence. I would not ask him for the money, but I shouldjust tell him exactly how I am placed, with so much a year--very, verylittle; a scrimped, tightened widow: that's the only way in which I canexpress my condition, scrimped and tightened, nothing else. A generouscheque from him would set all right. "

"Mother, you must promise me here and now that you will say nothing onthe subject to Sir John. And, Mummy dear, that reminds me, you neveracknowledged my postoffice orders. I know I hadn't much to send you, but what I did have I sent, and I promised that you should have tenshillings a week, my pocket-money, until you had paid the doctor'sbill. I could do no more. Mummy dear, what is the matter? Why do youlook at me like that, Mummy?"

"I may well ask you what is the matter?" said Mrs. Aylmer, now standingstock still in front of her daughter and raising a round, agitated faceto Florence. "Postoffice orders, and from you, Flo! Oh, my dear, darling, precious child, I have been wondering at never hearing fromyou. I wrote to tell you all about my illness--not until it was over, Flo; as I said to myself, 'No, the child shall not be disturbed; thatScholarship she must win. I will not tell her that her mother is illuntil her mother is out of danger. ' But when the danger was past Itold you--oh, my darling, I have not had any postoffice orders from younor any letters whatsoever--none whatsoever, Flo, and I have been soastonished. I have tried not to feel hurt. I am very sensible aboutmost things. I was sure that you did not write because you were toobusy to write, but still, in the dead of night, I did shed one or twotears--I did really, my own pet. "

"But, mother, this is too extraordinary for anything. I sent you twopostoffice orders, the first was for two pounds, the second for one. Do you mean to say that you never got them?"

"Never, my darling; I have been robbed. Who could have done it? Oh, Flo, this is fearful; three pounds sent to me by my own darling, and Inever to receive the money! What can it mean, Florence--what can itmean?"

"Say no more, mother; I will see about this. "

CHAPTER SIX. 

TIT FOR TAT. 

The long, bewildering, beautiful day was over and the three candidatesfor the coming competition were being dressed for the occasion. 

The dressing took place in one immense room where the girls wereafterwards to sleep, and the assistants at the dressing were no lesspeople than Miss Helen Dartmoor, Mrs. Aylmer the great, and Mrs. Aylmerthe less. 

Mrs. Aylmer the great and Mrs. Aylmer the less fussed round Florence, fussed round her to such an extraordinary degree that she felt a maddesire to thrust them both out of the room. 

The very beautiful dress which Aunt Susan had purchased for Florence inLondon was, after all, not to be used on this occasion, for Sir Johnhad given forth his mandate that each of the three candidates was to bedressed exactly alike, and as this was his supreme wish he further saidthat he himself would purchase the dresses for the occasion. 

These were made in Greek style, and were long, flowing, and simple. The material was the finest white cashmere edged with swansdown, andeach girl had clasped round her waist a belt of massive silver, alsoSir John's present. Their hair was unbound and hung down their backs, being kept in its place on the head by a narrow fillet of silver. 

Nothing could be simpler and yet more graceful than the dress, the longflowing sleeves falling away from the elbow and showing the youngmolded arms distinctly. 

It so happened that no dress could suit Kitty better, and doubtless SirJohn had an eye to the appearance of his favorite in such a robe whenhe ordered it. 

Florence also looked very well in her Greek costume; and even MaryBateman seemed to acquire added grace and dignity when she put on thepretty classical robe. The girls wore sandals on their feet, andaltogether nothing could be choicer and prettier than the dresses whichSir John had devised for them. 

Little Mrs. Aylmer almost hopped round Florence as she was beingattired in her festive robe. 

"I am sure, " she said, "I can guess the reason why; I have beenwondering over it all day, and at last the solution has come to me. Listen, my dear Miss Bateman; listen, Miss Sharston; Susan, you cannotprevent my speaking. I see, Miss Dartmoor, you are thinking me alittle fool, but I have guessed at the solution. It is because in themoment of triumph the brow of the young victor--victress, don't yousay? no, of course, victor--will be crowned with a laurel wreath. Ah, how sweet! Florence dear, nothing could be more becoming to you. "

Miss Dartmoor was heard to give an indignant snort. She went up toKitty and looked at her with marked attention. 

"I hate the heathenish sort of dress, " she exclaimed, "but if it comesto that, I believe that Catherine Sharston will look just as well witha chaplet of leaves round her head as anyone else in the room. "

"Oh, we are not disputing that point, " said Mrs. Aylmer the less, chirruping away as she spoke, and dancing up to a neighboringlooking-glass to take a side view of her own dress; "we are notdisputing that point. The one who wins the Scholarship will lookbeautiful in her wreath of glory. Time will prove who that luckyperson will be. "

Here she winked at Florence, who turned away. 

Her head ached; there was a heavy, heavy feeling at her heart. She hadone great desire, which for the time being swallowed up all others, andthat was to see Bertha Keys for a moment alone. Bertha was to arrivewith the rest of the school in time for the great ceremony, which wasto take place in the great central hall of the old house. 

The hall had been decorated for the occasion, and in its dark recessesgleamed now many fairy lamps. In the middle of the hall was a dais, onwhich the judges were to sit, and before whom the young competitorswere to appear when the crucial moment came. 

A flood of light from many incandescent burners poured down upon thisdais, making it one of dazzling light. 

The rest of the girls of the school were to sit in a darker part of thehall; they were to be dressed in their best. The guests were to occupya gallery to the left, except those guests who, by Sir John's specialinvitation, were to sit upon the dais and give their votes in favor ofthe essays. Desks were provided also in the middle of the hall for thethree young competitors, at which they were to sit to answer thequestions which were to be asked them by three professors speciallysent for from London by Sir John. 

There was not to be the slightest indication of who the successfulwinner was to be until the crucial moment, and the examination fromfirst to last was expected to occupy about an hour and a half. 

While it was going on very soft music was to be played on a distantorgan; the competitors were then to go forward and to stand in front ofthe judges while the three essays were read aloud by no less a personthan Sir John himself. 

The judges would retire, something like a jury at a court of justice, on hearing the essays, to give their votes for the lucky winner of theScholarship, and then Sir John was to crown the successful girl withglory. A chaplet of silver bay-leaves was to encircle her brow, andthe locket and chain were to be put round her neck. She was to receivethe purse which would contain the expenses for one year at Cherry CourtSchool, and the parchment scroll, which through all time would testifyto her ability and her triumph, was to be put into her hand. 

"Yes, nothing could be more perfect than the arrangements, " said MissDartmoor, who had heard all about the programme during the course ofthe day; "but, " she added, fixing her eyes now upon the elder Mrs. Aylmer's face, "I disapprove of this sort of thing immensely. I don'tsuppose for a single moment my cousin, Catherine Sharston, will get theScholarship; but seeds of envy and discontent will be sown in herheart, and I shall have some trouble in bringing her into a properframe of mind when she joins me in Scotland. "

"I pity you, " said Mrs. Aylmer, in reply to this speech, "but the girllooks well-meaning and easily influenced. "

"Oh, am I?" thought Kitty, who overheard these words and who could nothelp giving her little head a toss; "I doubt it. Oh, if it were notfor father I don't think I could go through with this evening. "

Meanwhile Florence had slipped out of the room. In her pretty Greekdress she glided down the corridor, met a servant, and asked her if theyoung ladies from school had yet come. 

"Yes, miss, " was the reply, "and they are all unrobing in the greenbedroom at the end of this corridor. "

"I should be so much obliged if you would do something for me, " saidFlorence. 

"Of course I will, miss, " was the reply. The girl gave Florence along, admiring look. She could not help being struck with the elegantdress and the eager, passionate, quivering face. "What is it you want, miss?--I'll do anything you wish. "

"I want you to go into the green bedroom and ask if Miss Keys is there. If she is, say that I, Florence Aylmer, would like to see her for a fewmoments. "

The servant tripped off at once, and a moment later Bertha joinedFlorence in the corridor. 

"Is there anywhere where we can be alone?" said Florence, claspingBertha's hand. 

"Oh, my dear Flo, how lovely you look! What a charming, charming robe!"

"Don't talk about my dress now, and don't say anything about my looks;I want to speak to you, " said Florence. 

For a wild moment Bertha Keys felt inclined to say, "It is impossible;I am engaged with my pupils, and cannot give you any of my time, " but aglance into Florence's face showed her, as she vulgarly expressed it, "the fat was in the fire, " and she had better face the position atonce. Accordingly she said coolly, "I can give you two or threeminutes, although I cannot imagine what you want to say now. I shallcome to see you when it is all over. There is not the slightest doubtthat you will win the Scholarship, so rest assured on that head. "

"If I thought for a moment there was a doubt do you think I would haveacted as I did?" said Florence; "but now that things have come to acrisis I wonder if I greatly care. I----"

"Oh, nonsense, Florence, how would you stand the disgrace? and theclergy school, you know--don't forget, Florence, what it means. Holdup your head, pluck up your courage. What is it you want to say to me?"

"Something--but I must see you alone. "

"Let us come along this corridor; there are a great many bedrooms: wewill open one on the chance of its being empty. "

Bertha seized Florence's hand and began to fly down the corridor withher. She knocked at a door, there was no reply, she opened it. 

"There, it is unoccupied, " she said; "we will stay here for a minute ortwo. Come now, what is it?"

"It is this, " said Florence; she turned and faced Bertha. 

"Bertha Keys, " she said, "my mother has told me, and I heard that ofyou this morning which----"

"That of me, indeed, " said Bertha, turning very pale; "what can youhave heard of me?"

"I have heard that which shows me your true character. My mother neverreceived those post-office orders. I gave you three sovereigns tochange into postoffice orders for my mother, and she--she never hadthem; she never got any of my letters, she thought me cold, heartless, unfeeling--she, my mother, the one I love best in the world. You, youheld back the letters, you kept the money--dare you deny it?"

"Oh, dear, what a fuss!" said Bertha. "But you can act just as youplease, Florence; you can go down and tell all about me. Of course, having done so, my career will be ruined. "

"What do you mean? What did you do?--speak, speak! Oh, this isdriving me mad!"

"Calm yourself, my dear, and stay quiet; I won't attempt to conceal thetruth from you. I took the money; I wanted it very badly. Whether Iwanted it more badly than your mother is a matter of not the smallestimportance to me. I wanted it, and I took it. Let that suffice. "

"And what do you think I shall do; do you think I will submit to thissort of thing?"

"You can please yourself. Of course, if you tell about me, I can tellabout you. Tit for tat--you quite understand. "

"Oh, I quite understand, " said Florence. 

She sank down on the nearest chair, her face had turned quite grey. 

Miss Keys regarded her for a moment silently, then she went up and laidher hand on her shoulder. 

"Come, Flo, " she said, suddenly dropping on her knees by the unhappygirl's side, "come, cheer up; don't look so miserable. You and I arein the same boat and we must sink or swim together. If you support meI'll support you. I can help you again and again, and think what I amdoing for you to-night. "

"Oh, I hate myself, I hate myself! I don't think I can go through withit, " said Florence. 

"Then what do you mean to do?"

"Tell Sir John all before he begins. It is Kitty's Scholarship--notmine; and how--how am I to take it?"

"Now this is utter folly, " said Bertha, seriously alarmed at last, forif Florence were to develop a conscience, and a conscience of such asensitive order, at this hour, all would indeed be lost as far as shewas concerned. 

"Come, " she said, "think what it means. You love your mother; think ofher position if you lose; and it was only three pounds, and Ipromise--there, I promise I'll save it out of my salary; you shall haveit back. Oh, don't tell on me; I shall be ruined for ever;don't--don't--don't!"

Bertha clasped her hands, the tears rose to her eyes--a bell was heardin the distance. It was the bell which was to summon the guests, thegirls of the school, and the three competitors to the great hall. 

"There, I must be going, " said Florence, "but I am miserable. My headaches, I doubt if I can go through with this. "

"You will feel quite different when you get downstairs, " said Bertha, "and now cheer up; only just remember one thing. If you fail me I willfail you, and _vice versa_. "

Florence did not dare to look back at Bertha; she left the room. Therewas a noise in her ears and a swimming before her eyes. 

Bertha stood for a moment, looking after her retreating form. 

"I am almost sorry I did not tell her at the time, " she said toherself; "when she has accepted the Scholarship I shall be safe; butshe has had a shock. There is no saying what a girl of thattemperament may do under pressure; but there, I believe the excitementwill carry her through, and I don't believe for a moment she has themoral courage to stand the public disgrace which would be hers if shetold now. Yes, she is in for it; she must go through with it. "

Bertha patted her red hair and drew herself up to her full height, andpresently accompanied the pupils down to the great hall, where theytook their seats in the places allotted to them; excellent seats fromthe point of view, for they could see every single thing and werethemselves to a certain extent in shadow. 

The different guests had assembled, all beautifully dressed. Mrs. Aylmer the great and Mrs. Aylmer the less found themselves side byside. Mrs. Aylmer the great was in a magnificent robe of violetbrocade, open at the throat, displaying a quantity of rich lace. Onher head glittered diamonds, and her light eyes flashed as she glancedfrom time to time at Mrs. Aylmer the less. 

"Really, " she said to herself, "the one drawback in adopting Florenceis that most unpleasant little woman. Where did she get that splendidsilk from? But what airs she does put on; how vulgar she is!"

Mrs. Aylmer the great did not look particularly happy. She was mostanxious to force herself into what she termed county society, and shefound up to the present that, although she was the owner of amagnificent place like Aylmer Court, she was not taken much notice ofby those people who were, as she expressed it, really in the swim. Itwas a great feather in her cap to be invited to Cherry Court Park, andif Sir John would only favor her with a little attention she might getmore invitations in consequence. 

If her niece was the lucky winner of the Scholarship all wouldundoubtedly go well with Mrs. Aylmer. She would be the aunt, practically the adopted mother, of the heroine, the girl on whom alleyes were fixed, Sir John's special _protégée_, the Cherry Court SchoolScholarship girl. She could talk about Florence and her greatabilities from time to time, and gently insinuate little hints withregard to the girl's unfortunate position and her great kindness inadopting her. Thus people would think her a most good-natured woman aswell as a very rich one, the aunt of a girl of undoubted genius--yes, agreat deal might follow in the train of such consequences. 

Mrs. Aylmer the less on this occasion had many wild and excitingthoughts with regard to Miss Pratt and the other neighbors at Dawlish, also with regard to Sukey; but still, her thought above all otherthoughts was the consciousness that soon her beloved child would bedone honor to, and her eyes, silly enough in expression, were now sofull of love that many people thought her a good-natured andpleasant-looking woman, and in reality gave her far kinder thoughtsthan they did to Mrs. Aylmer the great, whose cold face would nevershine with any human feeling, and whose motives could be easily read bythe proud county folk. 

As Florence slowly entered the room, accompanied by Kitty and Mary, alittle buzz of applause greeted the three graceful girls as, in theirGreek costumes, they glided slowly forward and took their places at thelittle desks placed for them. Florence for one wild moment glanced ather mother, and the love and longing and delight in the little Mummy'sface did more to reconcile her present evil plight than anything else. 

"There, " she whispered under her breath, "in for a penny, in for apound. I cannot break the heart of the little Mummy--I can't--I won't. "

A peculiar expression stole round her lips, her eyes grew feverishlybright, she looked handsome, and Mrs. Aylmer the great felt justly veryproud of her. 

"She is tall, her figure is improving every day; she will be a verygood-looking girl by and by--what is more, a stylish one, " thought AuntSusan. 

But most of the guests scarcely looked at Florence, for their eyes wereattracted by the sweet expression, the inimitable grace of KittySharston. 

Florence's cheeks were deeply flushed, her eyes so bright that theylooked dark as night; but Kitty, equally excited, her heart beating, every nerve highly strung, only showed her excitement by a dewy look inthe great big grey eyes, and a wild-rose bloom on the delicate cheeks. 

Mary's downright appearance did not attract comment one way or theother. All three were pronounced nice-looking, ladylike girls, and nowthe guests bent forward to listen to the _viva voce_ examination, whichimmediately began. 

CHAPTER XX. 

"THE HILLS FOR EVER. "

The examination began and was continued amidst a profound silence onthe part of all the spectators. Necks were craned forward and earswere at attention point. When Florence answered a question correctlyMrs. Aylmer the less nodded her little head until the plumes which shewore in her hair quivered all over. Mrs. Aylmer the great bridled andglanced with her cold eyes at the proudest of the county folk, as muchas to say, "There's genius for you. "

Mary Bateman's father, who sat very near Mrs. Aylmer the less, smiledalso when Florence made a correct answer, and looked with sympathy atlittle Mrs. Aylmer; and when his own child Mary scored a point, as heexpressed it, a gratified flush rose to his old cheeks, and he droppedhis eyes, not caring to look at the girl whom he loved best in theworld. 

But when to question after question Kitty Sharston gave a correctreply, the _furore_ and excitement in the breasts of several of thespectators rose to the highest pitch, for Kitty's soft voice, hergentle answers, her correct and lady-like utterances impressed everyonefavorably. Then, too, it was an open secret that she was Sir John'sfavorite; it had been whispered by more than one visitor to anotherthat it was on account of Kitty Sharston that this great fuss had beenmade, that the Scholarship had been opened to the competition of theschool, that the girls were here, that they themselves were here--itwas all on account of this slim little girl with the big eyes and thesweet pathetic face; and reminiscences of Sir John and Kitty's fathertogether side by side, shoulder to shoulder, in the trenches beforeSebastopol arose in the memory of one or two visitors present. 

It was undoubtedly the wish of the guests who were assembled at CherryCourt Park that night that Kitty should be the successful winner. Andnow there were strong, more than strong hopes that such would be thecase, for although Florence's answers were full of spirit andinvariably correct, there seemed to those who listened to be abackground of substantial knowledge behind Kitty's grave remarks. 

Miss Helen Dartmoor sat bolt upright, her lips firmly compressed, and adisapproving expression in her eyes; but Miss Helen Dartmoor did notcount. It was Sir John, whose eyes followed his favorite with keenerand keener appreciation and admiration; it was Mrs. Clavering; it wasalso most of the girls themselves, for beyond doubt Kitty was thefavorite. If she won the Scholarship it would give universalsatisfaction. 

And now most of the examination had come to an end. The questions onhistory had all been answered and duly marked by the patient professorswho had come to Cherry Court Park for the great occasion. The girlsone by one had approached the piano and played each her trial piece andhad sung her trial song, and still it seemed to everyone that Kitty ledthe van; for her music, although not quite so showy and brilliant asFlorence's, was marked with true musical expression, and her song, asweet old English ballad, came purely and freely from her young lips. 

Mary also acquitted herself extremely well in the musical examination, and old Mr. Bateman raised his head and listened with real pleasure asthe wild warbling notes of "Annie Laurie" sounded through the old hall. 

But at last the supreme test of all arrived. The three girls, Sir Johnleading the way, approached the central dais. There they stood side byside, their soft Greek draperies falling round their slim youngfigures. Sir John then stepped to the front and addressed the crowd ofeager spectators. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, " he said, "I need not tell you with what intensepleasure I have listened to the spirited answers our three youngfriends have made to the different questions put to them. TheScholarship, however, has yet to be won--the supreme test is now to begiven--the trial essays are now to be read. In order that fair playshould above all things be exercised on this important occasion, I haveasked my three young friends not to sign their names to the essays theyhave written. The essays are in three blank envelopes, which now liebefore me on the table. " Here Sir John touched three envelopes withhis hand. "I will proceed to read them aloud, taking them uphaphazard, and having no idea myself who the writer of each essay is. I have selected as the subject of the test essay the great andwonderful subject of Heroism, for I feel that such a theme will givescope for the real mind, the real heart, the real soul of the youngwriter. I will say no more now. After I have read the essays we willretire into the outer hall for two or three minutes, and on our returnI shall have the pleasure of declaring on whose head I am to place thecrown of bay-leaves. "

Sir John paused for a moment, the girls stood close together, theyfaced the crowd standing at one side of the dais. Florence glancedacross the hall. Once again she met her mother's eyes--she saw no onein that intense moment of her young life except the little Mummy, andthe love in her mother's eyes once again made her say to herself, "Nothing, nothing, nothing will make me break her heart; I will gothrough with it--yes, I will go through with it. "

Kitty Sharston's clear eyes also gazed across the hall, but she saw noone present--only, far, far away, a lonely man with an iron-grey head, and a face which was the dearest face in all the world to her. She sawthis man, and felt that for his sake no effort could be too great. Ifshe won the Scholarship all would indeed be well; but if she failed shecould at least be good, she could at least submit. Oh, yes; oh, yes;it would be fearfully hard, but God could give her strength. 

As to Mary Bateman, she looked at her father and her father looked ather, and then she held herself erect and said to herself, "I can butfail, and in any case I have done my best. "

Just then, the murmurs of applause having died away, Sir John took upthe first of the envelopes, opened it, unfolded the sheet of paperwhich lay within, and commenced to read. 

The essay on Heroism which he first read happened to be written by MaryBateman. It was practical, written in good English, the spelling allcorrect, and also contained some fairly well-chosen allusions to greatheroes of history. The essay was thoughtful, and, although there waslittle originality in it, the guests listened with marked attention. The reading of the essay occupied exactly ten minutes, for Sir Johnread it slowly, pausing often to give full weight to the words which heread. He had a beautiful, mellow, perfectly-trained voice, and Mary'ssomewhat lame utterances could not have sounded to better advantage. 

When he had finished the guests applauded, but without any intenseenthusiasm. He laid the paper down before him on the table, and thenproceeded to read the second essay. This had altogether a differentnote. The allusions to history were far less numerous, but the heartof the young writer made itself felt. It was the work of an immaturemind, but here and there was a delicate touch which pointed to thepossibility of future genius. Here and there was a graceful allusionwhich caused Sir John's own voice to falter, and above all things, through each word there breathed a lofty and noble spirit. 

"Only the daughter of a soldier could have written those words, "thought Sir John; "surely this must be Kitty's work, and surely noother essay could approach hers. "

So he thought, and as he came to the last words his voice rang outclear and full, and when he ceased the applause was great, and Kitty'seyes shone, although she dared not meet anyone, for it was part of thecode of honor amongst the three girls that the judges should not guesswho had written each individual essay. 

Then at last it came to be Florence's turn. Florence had copied BerthaKeys' paper, scarcely taking in its meaning. She had copied it in hothaste, with hot rage, defiance, determination in her heart. Shescarcely knew herself what the words meant, she had not taken in theirtrue significance. The essay was a little longer than the others, andbegan in quite a different way. 

Sir John paused for a moment, glanced down the page, then adjusted hisglasses, drew himself up very erect and began to read. He had not readone sentence before he perceived that he had now quite different metalto deal with. Although disappointment stormed at his heart, he was tootrue a gentleman and too brave a soldier to allow such a feeling toinfluence him even for a moment. Yes, he would do the spirited wordswith which he had now to deal every justice. So he read on, the firein the paper communicating itself to him, and the guests who listenedsoon forgot all about the Scholarship and all about the three youngcandidates. They were interested in the words themselves; the wordsrang out; they were not remarkable so much for the heart element as forthe strong, proud, intellectual touch. 

The essay was rich in metaphor and still richer in quotation. From theGreeks, from the Romans, from the English, from America, fromAustralia, from all parts of the globe did the young writer cullincident and quotation. She used a brief and telling argument, and shebrought it to a successful and logical conclusion. Finally she quotedsome words from Tennyson, aptly and splendidly chosen, and when SirJohn's voice ceased the entire hall rose up in a body and cheers andacclamations ascended to the roof. 

Florence's face was white as death. 

Sir John laid down the paper. 

"We will now, " he said, turning to his fellow-judges, "retire for a fewmoments to decide on the winner of the Scholarship. "

Sir John and the other judges immediately left the hall, and the girls, still standing in that strained and painful position, waited withlowered eyes for the result. Amongst the three, however, all doubt wasover. Mary Bateman knew that her poor and lame words had not theslightest chance. Kitty would not have taken the Scholarship even ifit had been offered to her. Could Mary have written that brilliantessay? Could it by any possibility be the work of Florence? Butwhoever had written it deserved the Scholarship, deserved it by everyrule which had been laid upon the young competitors. 

So she thought, and Florence, who did not dare to meet Bertha's eyes, who did not dare at this moment even to look at her mother, wished withall her heart that the ground might open and swallow her up. 

Could she take this undeserved honor? The words were crowding to herlips, "Oh, don't, for heaven's sake, give it to me; I could never havewritten it, " but she did not speak the words. 

Just then there was a pause amongst the crowd of spectators, and SirJohn and the other judges returned. The judges sat down in their seatsand Sir John came slowly forward. His face was very white. 

"The examination for the Cherry Court School Scholarship is over, " hebegan. "With one accord we have adjudged the prize. The three youngcompetitors have all done admirably. The questions have been souniversally well answered that there would have been a difficulty ingiving the prize to any one when all three so very nearly had earnedit, were it not for the trial essay; but the trial essay has removedall doubt. The Scholarship, by every test of learning, of highendeavor, of noble thought, belongs to the girl whose motto on herpaper has been 'The Hills for Ever. ' She has indeed gone to the hillsfor her breezy thoughts, for her noble and winged words. May she tothe longest day she lives retain all that she now feels, and go ontruly from strength to strength. The names of the competitors are notattached to the essays, therefore I must request the girl who hasadopted the motto, 'The Hills for Ever, ' to come forward, for she isthe winner of the Scholarship. "

Sir John paused and looked down the room. He did not dare to glance atKitty, for he knew only too well that, clever and sweet as she was, shehad not written those words. 

There was a dead silence. Mary Bateman looked at Florence--Kitty alsolooked at her. They felt sure she had written the splendid essay, andthey wondered at her silence. She remained quite still for a moment. 

"Miss Bateman, is this your essay?" said Sir John, holding up the paperto Mary. 

Mary shook her head and fell back. 

"Catherine Sharston, is this yours?" again said Sir John. 

Kitty bent her head low in denial. 

"Then Miss Aylmer--what is the matter, Miss Aylmer?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing, " said Florence. She gave one wild glance in thedirection of Bertha Keys, but Bertha was too wise to meet Florence'seyes just then. 

"She feels it, but she must go through with it, " thought the pupilteacher. "I did not know that I had such genius, but I shall neverdoubt my own power in the future. Is she indeed mean enough to take mywork and claim it as her own? Of course she is; it would be fatal tome if she did otherwise. "

As Florence slowly, very slowly, as if each step was weighted withlead, crept forward to the front of the dais without any of that lookof triumph and pleasure which ought to have marked her face at such amoment, Bertha Keys threw back her own head and allowed her watchfullight blue eyes to follow the girl, while a smile of sardonic importcurled her lips. 

When Florence got opposite Sir John she suddenly, as if overpowered byintense emotion, fell on her knees. She could not have done anythingwhich would more completely bring down the house. Cheers, acclamations, hurrahs, every sort of congratulation filled the air. When they had subsided for a moment and Mrs. Aylmer the less hadreleased the hand of Mrs. Aylmer the great, which she had clutchedfrantically in her intense agitation, Sir John took Florence's hand andwith a slight motion raised her to her feet. 

"Stand up, Florence Aylmer, " he said; "you have done splendidly; Icongratulate you. The Scholarship is yours, nobly won, splendidly won. Take your honors, my dear. "

As he spoke he stepped to the table and brought back a small crown offiligree silver. It was a simple wreath in the form of bay-leaves. Helaid it on Florence's dark head. 

"This is yours, " he said; "wear it with dignity; keep the great, thegood, the true always before you. And this also is yours, " he said. He slipped a thin gold chain with the ruby locket attached roundFlorence's neck. He then placed the purse which contained theScholarship money for the ensuing year, and the parchment scroll, inher hand. "And now, young people, " he said, "let us all cheer threetimes the winner of the Scholarship. "

The girls cheered as lustily as schoolboys, the band in the cornerburst forth with the gay strains of "See the Conquering Hero Comes, "and after a brief signal from Sir John there was suddenly heard outsidethe report of a small cannon, which was the intimation that thebonfires were to be lit. 

"Florence, Florence, come here!" said her mother, and Florence ranacross the hall and buried her face in her mother's lap. 

CHAPTER XXI. 

THE STING OF THE SERPENT. 

The day was over, the long, exciting, exhausting evening had come to anend. The girls had danced to their hearts' content, had played andromped, and congratulated Florence with all the heartiness of whichtheir frank natures were capable. They had wandered through thegrounds in groups to watch the bonfires, they had partaken of the mostdelicious supper the heart of girl could conceive, and at last, wornout and intensely happy, they had retired to rest. 

Three long dormitories had been fitted up for their occupation, but thelucky three had each a very small room to herself. Florence was gladof that. Yes, if she could be glad of anything on that awful, terribleevening, it was the knowledge that she might be alone, all alone forsome hours. During those hours she could think, could collect herthoughts, could face the position which she had in future to occupy. 

In the pleasure and delight of the evening no one had specially noticedhow little Florence spoke. Mrs. Aylmer the less, as the mother of theheroine, minced about with her head in the air, so elated, so excited, so carried out of herself, that not the grandest county lady presenthad power to awe her. 

"Yes, I am the mother of the dear child. Oh, I always knew that shewas specially gifted, " Mrs. Aylmer was heard to say. "She could learnfrom the time she was a baby in the most marvellous way, but even I wasastonished at her essay; it wrung tears from my eyes. "

"It was a very noble work, " said the Countess of Archester, slightlybowing her own queenly head, and giving Mrs. Aylmer a half-quizzical, half-pitying glance. "How the girl wrote it, how that woman's daughtercould have written such an essay, is a puzzle to me, " said the Countessafterwards to her husband. 

But Mrs. Aylmer was unconscious that any such remarks were uttered. She was thinking of her own dazzling future, of what Dawlish would meanto her in the time to come, of what Sukey would say, what Ann Prattwould say, what other neighbors would say. All was indeed well; shewas the mother of a genius, a girl who had achieved such high honorthat her name in future would always be remembered in the neighborhoodof Cherry Court School. Yes, it was a proud moment for Mrs. Aylmer, quite the proudest in her life. It is true that Florence had said verylittle to her mother, that Florence had scarcely responded to Mrs. Aylmer when she had flung her arms round her neck, and pressed up closeto her, and looked into her eyes, and said, "My darling! oh, mydarling, my sweet, precious daughter, how proud your Mummy is of you!"

Florence had turned away just then, and Mrs. Aylmer had felt that herdaughter's hand trembled as it lay for a moment in hers. 

But Mrs. Aylmer the great was even more remarkable in her conduct thanMrs. Aylmer the less. She had called Florence to her, and before allthe assembled guests had kissed her solemnly. 

"You are my daughter henceforth, " she said, "my adopted daughter. Nota word, Mabel; this girl belongs to me in the future. "

And just then the queerest pang of jealousy had rushed through theheart of Mrs. Aylmer the less, for was it possible that Susan reallymeant to take her child from her altogether? Was Florence henceforwardto be considered by the world as the daughter of Mrs. Aylmer the great?Was she, her real mother, the mother who had nursed her as a baby, whohad put up with her childish troubles, to have nothing whatever to dowith her in the future? Notwithstanding that crown of glory whichseemed to quiver over the forehead of the little widow, she did notlike this aspect of the question. She felt she could scarcely standit. If Susan meant to have the child, then indeed the Scholarshipwould present a very serious drawback to the mind of Mrs. Aylmer. 

Mrs. Aylmer the great, however, now pushed herself quite into theforefront of the county society. It was impossible to suppress her;she was past suppressing. Sir John himself took her into the greathall where supper was laid. She sat by his side during that auspiciousmeal, and when he talked of Florence she boldly told him that a goldenfuture lay before the girl. 

"It is a pity, " was his reply, "that being the case, that Miss Aylmershould have got the Scholarship, for whether she got it or not, beingyour niece, she would of course have been well educated. TheScholarship money would have done more good to a poorer girl"--and hereSir John had quickly to suppress a sigh, for was he not thinking ofKitty--Kitty, who had never looked sweeter than during this evening ofdefeat, who had never, never been nearer to his heart?

Mrs. Aylmer the great looked at him in some astonishment. 

"I am surprised, " she said; "it almost sounds as if you----"

"As if I grudged the Scholarship to your niece; far from that, " heanswered; "she is a remarkable girl; any girl who could write thatessay possesses genius. She will be heard of in the future. "

Then the heart of Mrs. Aylmer the great swelled within her, and sheabsolutely loved her niece Florence. 

But now the day was over and Florence was alone in her room. The doorwas closed; her mother's last kiss and blessing had been given. Mrs. Aylmer the great had solemnly embraced Florence also, had given her tounderstand that there was no request which she would not grant, andthen the tired girl had been left alone. 

She went to the door of her room and locked it, then she stood for amoment in the centre of the floor. There was a large mirror fastenedto one of the walls, and Florence could see her own reflection in it. She glanced at it for a moment in a puzzled way, a solitary youngfigure, tall and well proportioned, a head of dark hair, eyes verybright, a face somewhat pale now from excessive emotion, pathetic linesround the mouth. On the head shone the silver crown of bay-leaves, theGreek dress fell away from the graceful figure, on the neck gleamed thewonderful locket with its dazzling ruby. The light from a large lampfell upon this ruby and caused it to gleam brightly. Florence wentnearer to the mirror and looked into it. The fire from the heart ofthe ruby seemed to leap out. She hastily unfastened the gold chainfrom her neck and held the locket in her hand. The ruby with its heartof fire seemed now to the excited girl to possess an evil eye whichcould see through her. She felt that she hated it, she trembled alittle, she hastily unlocked a drawer and thrust in the ruby locket andchain. She then removed the silver wreath of bay-leaves and put italso in the drawer with the ruby. Then she clasped her hands above herhead and looked earnestly into her own face. Well she knew in thatmoment of bitter triumph what had happened to her. 

"I am made for life, " she said at last slowly, aloud; "all the goodthings of life can in the future be mine--all the wealth, all theglory, to a great extent also the love. "

But when Florence thought of the love she paused; for she rememberedher mother. Did anyone in all the world love her as the little Mummyloved her? In the future she knew well that she should see very littleof her mother. Aunt Susan would not permit it for a moment; she mightsee her occasionally, but never again would they meet as child andmother. There would be a gulf between them, the gulf which ever andalways separates the rich from the poor. For Florence henceforth wouldbelong to the rich ones of the earth. Mrs. Aylmer the great was sopleased, so elated, so triumphant at her marked and brilliant successthat there was nothing she would not do for her. Yes, Florence'sfuture life was secure, she was fortunate, the world lay at her feet, her fortune was made. 

She sat down on a low chair. 

"It is all before me, " she muttered, "the riches, the honor, the glory. I shall also, if I am dressed well, be beautiful. Mine is the sort offace that requires good decoration; mine is the figure which needs thebest clothes. I shall have everything, everything. I ought to behappy; I wonder I am not. I ought to be very happy. Oh, I wish thisfire did not burn in my heart, and that horrid, scorching, intolerablefeeling, I wish it did not consume me. Oh, I suppose I shall get overit in time; and if life lasted forever I should be the happiest girl inthe world; but of course it won't--nothing lasts forever, for age comeseven to the youngest, and then--then there is illness and--and perhapsdeath. And I may not even live to be old. Rich and lucky andfortunate as I am, I may die. I should not like to die a bit--not abit; I should not be prepared for the other world. Oh, I must shutaway the thought, for there is no going back now. "

Just at this point in her meditations there came a knock at her door. Florence started when she heard the sound. She wished that she hadthought of putting out the candle. She could not bear to feel thatanyone was coming to see her to-night. Her mother?--she dared not meether mother alone; she would be prepared in the morning, but she couldnot meet her mother's searching glance just now. 

She did not reply at all to the first knock, but the light from thecandle streamed out under the door, and the knock was repeated, and nowit was more insistent, and a voice said:

"It is only me, Florence; it is only me; let me come in. "

Florence shuddered and turned very pale. She knew the voice: it wasthe voice of Bertha Keys. If there was anyone in all the wide worldwhom she would most dread to meet on that unhappy night it was BerthaKeys, the girl who knew her secret. There was no help for it, however. 

With a shudder Florence arose, crossed the room, unlocked the door, andflung it open. 

"I am so tired, Bertha, " she said; "must you see me to-night?"

"I am sorry you are tired, " replied Bertha, "but I must see youto-night. "

Bertha slowly entered the room. When Florence shut the door Berthaturned the key in the lock. 

"What are you doing that for?" said Florence. 

"Because I do not wish to be interrupted; I want to see you alone. "

"But I wish you would not lock the door; it is quite unnecessary--noone will come here at present. "

"I make certainty sure--that is all, " said Bertha. "Don't fuss aboutthe lock. Now, then, Florence, I want to have a straight talk withyou; you understand?"

"I suppose I do; but I don't think I can comprehend anything to-night. "

"Oh, yes, you can, you certainly can; you must pull yourself together. You went through that ordeal very well, let me tell you. How do youfeel now?"

"Miserable, " said Florence. 

Bertha went up close to her, sat down by her, and, suddenly putting herhand under Florence's chin, raised her face, and looked into her eyes. 

"Bah!" she said, "it was a pity I did it for you; you are not worth it. "

"What do you mean?" said Florence, turning pale. 

"Because you are not; I don't believe you'll go through with it evennow. Bah! such glory, such honor, such a proud moment, and to say youare miserable! May I ask what you are miserable about?"

"Because I have sacrificed my honor; because I am the meanest, mosthorrid girl on God's earth, " said Florence, with passion. "Because theScholarship so won turns to dust and ashes in my mouth. Because--because of Kitty, little Kitty, who wanted really what I haveso basely taken from her. Oh, I hate myself and I hate you, Bertha. Why did I ever meet you?"

Florence was past tears, a dry sob rose in her throat, it half chokedher for a moment, then she stood up and wrung her hands. 

"Go away, please, Bertha; leave me now; I cannot have you. "

"You can put things right, of course, according to your idea of right, "said Bertha, in a sulky voice; "you can go to Sir John and tell himwhat has happened; you can do that if you please. "

"I cannot--you know I cannot. "

"I certainly do know you cannot, " said Bertha. "Well, now, my dear, wewill leave off heroics; it is all very fine for you to talk of yourconscience, but I don't think that little monitor within is of a veryactive turn of mind. If he were he would have absolutely at the firstidea shunted off the evil proposal which I happened to make to you. You would never have yielded to the temptation. Think just for amoment: would Kitty Sharston have done this thing?"

"Of course not; why do you ask?"

"Think again, would Mary Bateman have done this thing?"

"Again, why do you ask?"

"My dear Florence, I ask in order to reassure you that, sensitive andkeen as you think your little inward monitor, it is at best but a poorweakling. Now, the conscience of Kitty and the conscience of Marywould have risen up in hot protest, and the temptation would not havebeen a temptation to them, but it was to you because of the poor healthof your little monitor. Believe me, the monitor is in a bad way, andif you will struggle through the remorse of the next couple of days itwill simply die. "

"And then I shall be lost, " said Florence, with a frightened look inher face. 

"Oh, you will live a very comfortable life if you take care of yourhealth; you have a good sixty years before you. You can do a good dealin sixty years, and now for goodness' sake stop talking about thematter. It is done and cannot be undone. I want to say something toyou myself. "

"But at the end of sixty years I shall die all the same, " saidFlorence. "Oh, Bertha, I go mad when I think of dying. Oh, Bertha!Bertha!"

Even Bertha felt a momentary sense of terror when she looked intoFlorence's eyes. She backed away from her and stood by the table. 

"Come, come, my dear, " she said, "you'll get over all this, " but stillshe avoided looking at Florence's eyes. 

"What do you want with me?" said Florence at last, restlessly; "I mustsleep. I wish you would go away. "

"I will when I have made my request. "

"What is that?"

"I want you to give me twenty pounds. "

"Twenty pounds! Why, you know I have not got it. "

"Practically you have, and I want it. I want it early to-morrowmorning. "

"Now, Bertha, you must be mad. "

"Not at all; I am abundantly sane. That essay which so excited thespectators to-night was worth twenty pounds. I mean you to buy it fromme, and those are my terms. "

"You know I cannot. I cannot imagine what you mean by coming to me inthis fashion. "

"Without twenty pounds I shall be undone, " said Bertha; "I need it topay some debts. If the debts are not paid I shall be exposed, and if Igo under, you, my pretty Florence, go under, too--understand that, please. Twenty pounds is cheap at the price, is it not?"

"But I have not got it, Bertha; I would give it you, but I cannot. Youmight as well ask me for my right hand. "

"I tell you the great Mrs. Aylmer will do anything for her pretty andgifted niece. Ask her for the money to-morrow. "

"For you?"

"By no means--for yourself. "

"Bertha, I simply cannot. "

"All right, " said Bertha. "I give you until to-morrow at noon todecide. If by that time I have twenty pounds in my hand all right, your secret is respected and no catastrophe will happen, and yourfrightful deceit will never be found out. Only one person will knowit, and that is I. But if you do not give me the twenty pounds I shallmyself go to Mrs. Clavering and tell her everything. I shall be sorry;the consequences will be very disagreeable for me; I cannot even say ifI shall quite escape the punishment of the law, but I expect I shall. In any case, you will be done for, my pretty Florence; your career willbe over. Think of that; think of the little Mummy, as you call her, without the great Scholarship to back you up--think what it means. "

"I do, I do; the only one I do think of at the present moment is mymother, " said Florence. "When I think of her it gives me agony. But, Bertha, I cannot get that twenty pounds. "

"You can; make an excuse to your Aunt Susan to obtain it. Now, mydear, you know why I have come to you; I will not trouble you anyfurther. The twenty pounds at noon to-morrow, or you know theconsequences. " Bertha waved her hand with a light air, kissed the slimlittle figure in its Greek dress, then she opened the door and went out. 

CHAPTER XXII. 

THE VOICE OF GOD. 

After Bertha had left her, Florence sat in a stunned attitude. She wasjust rising slowly from her chair when there came a knock a second timeat the door. This time Florence had not even a moment to say "Comein. " The door was softly opened, and the fair, sweet face of Kittypeeped round it. 

"Ah! I thought you were not in bed, " she said; "I came to see you justfor a minute to wish you good-night. "

"I wish you had not come, " said Florence. She looked so pale andfrightened that Kitty glanced at her aghast. 

"I came, " said Kitty Sharston, "because I thought you ought to knowthat Mary and I"--she paused to swallow something in her throat. Kittyhad suffered that night and had hidden her suffering; she did not wantFlorence to think that she had gone through any great time of sorrow. She looked at Florence attentively. "Mary Bateman and I agreed that Icould come and tell you, Flo, how pleased--yes, how pleased we are thatyou have got the Scholarship, for you won it so nobly, Florence--no onecould grudge it to you for a minute. "

"Do you really mean that?" said Florence, eagerly. She went up toKitty and seized both her hands. 

"Why, how hot your hands feel, and, oh, please do not squeeze me quiteso tightly, " said Kitty, starting back a step. 

Florence snatched away her hand. "If you knew me, " said Florence; "ifyou knew me!"

"I do know you, " said Kitty. "Oh, Flo--Tommy, dear--let me call you bythe old name just for once--we are all so proud of you, we are really. I thought perhaps you would be a little uncomfortable thinking of meand of Mary, but we don't mind--we don't really. You see, we hadn't achance, not a chance against genius like yours. We never guessed thatyou had such great genius, and it took us slightly by surprise; but ofcourse we are glad, awfully glad, and perhaps Sir John will offer theScholarship another year, and perhaps I will try then and--and succeed. But no one else had a chance with you, Florence, and we are glad foryou, very glad. "

"But you--what will you do? I know this means a great deal to you. "

"I shall go away with Helen Dartmoor; I don't feel unhappy, not at all. I am sure Sir John will be my friend, and perhaps I may try for theScholarship even though I am staying with Helen Dartmoor; I just cameto tell you. Good-night, Florence, good-night. Mary and I love you;we'll always love you; we'll always be proud of you. Good-night, Florence. "

Kitty ran up to her companion, kissed her hastily, and ran to the door. She had reached it, had opened the door and gone out, when Florencecalled her. Florence spoke her name faintly. 

"Kitty, Kitty, come back. "

But Kitty did not hear. She shut the door and ran down the passage, her steps sounding fainter, until Florence could hear them no longer. Then Florence Aylmer fell on her knees, and the tears which all thistime had lain like a dead weight against her eyeballs, were loosened, and she sobbed as she had never sobbed before in all her life. Exhausted by her tears, she threw herself on her bed and, dressed asshe was, sank into heavy slumber. 

It was very early in the morning when she awoke. It was not yet fiveo'clock. Florence struck a light and saw by the little clock on themantelpiece that the hands pointed to a quarter to five. 

"There is time, " she thought, eagerly. She sat up on her elbow andreflected. Her eyes were bright, her face paler than ever. Presentlyshe got out of bed and fell on her knees; she pressed her face againstthe side of the bed, and it is doubtful whether many words came to her, but when she rose at last she seemed to hear an inward voice, and thevoice was saying, "Refuse the Evil and choose the Good. "

The voice kept on saying, "Refuse the Evil and choose the Good, " andFlorence felt more and more frightened, and more and more intenselyanxious to do something in great haste before she had time forreflection. 

She lit the candles and put them on the writing-table at the foot ofthe bed, and then she sat by the writing-table and pulled out a sheetof paper and began to write. She wrote rapidly, with scarcely a pause. Whenever she stopped the voice kept saying louder and clearer, louderand clearer, "Refuse the Evil and choose the Good. "

Florence went on writing. At last she had finished. She folded up thesheet of paper and put it into an envelope. Then she hastily openedthe drawer which contained the silver wreath and the ruby locket andthe purse of gold and the parchment scroll. She collected themhastily, scarcely glancing at them, wrapped up in tissue-paper, then inbrown, tied the little parcel with string, slipped the note inside thestring and laid it on the table. 

The voice which kept speaking to her was now quieter; it ceased to say, "Refuse the Evil, " but once again through the silent room she seemed tohear the echo of the words, calm, great, all knowing, "_Choose theGood, choose the Good_, " and then she hastily, very hastily got intoher clothes, for it seemed to her that there was nothing else worthwhile in all the world but the following, the obeying of this voice. To choose the Good was greater than to choose Happiness, greater thanto choose Ambition, greater than to choose Wealth. It was the onlything. 

So she dressed herself in her everyday clothes, and, taking the littleparcel, she softly unfastened the door, and then she slipped downthrough the silent house and entered Sir John Wallis's study, and laidthe packet which contained all the symbols of her success and herletter of confession on his desk. Having done this, she turned away, came upstairs softly, and, going down another corridor, opened the doorof her mother's room and went in. 

Mrs. Aylmer was lying sound asleep; it was not yet six o'clock. Shewas very tired and she was sleeping heavily; she was enjoying pleasantdreams in her sleep, dreams of Florence, her dear, her darling, thesuccess Florence had won, the happy future which lay before her. 

Mrs. Aylmer's dreams were all one glow of great bliss, and in the midstof them she felt a cold, small hand laid upon her own, and, opening hereyes, she saw Florence bending over her. 

"Mummy, " said Florence, "I want you to get up at once. "

"My dear, dear child, what can be the matter?" said Mrs. Aylmer theless. She started up in bed, rubbed her sleepy eyes and stared at herdaughter. "What is it, Flo?"

"I cannot tell you just yet, mother, but I want you, if ever, ever inthe whole course of your life you really loved me, to stand by me now. Something fearful has happened, mother dear, and I cannot tell you atpresent, but I want you to help me. I want to go back to Dawlish withyou; I want to go back by the very first train this morning with youalone, Mummy; I will tell you on the way home what has happened, andthen--but I cannot say any more; only come, mother, come. No one elsewould stand by me--but you will, won't you?"

"You frighten me dreadfully, Florence, " said Mrs. Aylmer; "I cannotimagine what you are talking about. Have you lost your reason, my poordarling? Has this great, great triumph turned your brain? Oh, mychild, my child!"

"No, mother, " said poor Florence, "I am quite sane; I have not lost myreason. On the contrary, I think I have got it back again; I neverfelt saner than I do now, but--but you must help me, and there is notime to lose. I have done what I could; you must come away with me, mother, and we must go at once. I have looked up the trains. I'll gomyself and wake up one of the servants and get a trap ordered, and wewill go. Have you got a little money--that's the main thing?"

"I have got five pounds left out of Sir John's cheque. "

"Then that will be splendid. I only want just enough to get back toDawlish, to the little old house and to you. Oh, come, Mummy! oh, come!"

Florence's words were very brave and very insistent, and Mrs. Aylmerroused herself. She got out of bed, feeling a dull wonder stealingover her. Florence now took the command, and hastened her mother intoher clothes, and herself packed her mother's things. 

"Oh, my dear child, my best dress! don't let it get crushed, " said thelittle widow. 

Florence's trembling hands smoothed out the rich folds, she placed thedress in the top of the trunk, and before half-past six that morningMrs. Aylmer was dressed and her things packed. 

Then Florence went down again through the house and awoke one of theservants, and got her to wake a groom, who put a horse to a trap andbrought it round to a side door, and so it came to pass that beforeseven o'clock that morning Mrs. Aylmer and Florence had left CherryCourt Park forever. 

When they got into the train poor Mrs. Aylmer turned to Florence andbegged for an explanation. 

"I guess something dreadful has happened, but I can't imagine what itis, " she said. "What does this mean, Florence?"

"It means, Mummy, " said Florence, "that I have done that which no onebut a mother would forgive. Listen, and I will tell you. "

And then she told the whole story, from the very beginning, and Mrs. Aylmer listened with a cold feeling at her heart, and at first a greatanger there; but when the story was finished, and Florence timidly tookher mother's hands and looked into her eyes and said, "Are you a trueenough mother to love me through it all?" then little Mrs. Aylmer'sheart melted, and she flung her arms round Florence's neck andwhispered through her sobs, "Oh, my child! oh, my child! I had adreadful feeling last night when your Aunt Susan said that you were mydaughter no longer; but this--this gives you to me forever. "

"Of course it does, Mummy; Aunt Susan will never speak to me again. Oh, Mummy, what it is to have you! What should I do without you now?"

 * * * * *

The rest of this story can be told in a few words. It would beimpossible to depict the astonishment, the consternation, the amazementwhich Sir John felt when he read poor Florence's confession. Afterthinking matters over a short time, he sent for Mrs. Clavering, and heand that good woman had a long conference together. The upshot of itwas that the guests were allowed to depart without knowing what hadreally happened, Sir John saying that he would write to them afterwards. 

Bertha Keys was sent for, severely reprimanded, and dismissed from herpost with ignominy. She never returned to Cherry Court School, leavingCherry Court Park for a distant part of the country that very day. This history has nothing further to do with her. Whether she succeededin the future or whether she failed, whether she turned from the evilof her ways or not, must all be matters of conjecture. 

The main fact which concerns us is the following: Kitty won theScholarship, after all, for the very next day Sir John visited CherryCourt School and told the bare outline of poor Florence's sin andconfession. To Kitty was given the purse of gold, and the ruby locket, the crown of bay-leaves and the parchment scroll. They were given to avery sad Kitty, for the thought of Florence's sin completelyoverpowered both her and Mary Bateman, and indeed every girl in theschool. 

Sir John returned to his own house a sadder and a wiser man. 

"After all, did I do right to offer this great temptation?" he said tohimself, and this thought so affected him, and occurred to him sooften, that a week later he went down to Dawlish and had an interviewwith Mrs. Aylmer and Florence, and the result was that Florence wassent to a good school and had a chance of educating herself. She wasnot too proud to take this help from Sir John, for it relieved her fromall claims on her Aunt Susan in the future. 

As to Mrs. Aylmer the great, never from the day when Sir John, in a fewwords, told her what her niece had done, has that worthy womanmentioned the name, Florence Aylmer. She still gives Mrs. Aylmer herfifty pounds a year, but, as she herself declared it, "I have washed myhands of that wicked girl once and forever. "

THE END.