A Bunch of Cherries Part 8

"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 away at 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 into the oak parlor.

"My dears," she said, "I won't keep you a minute, but I have just had a letter from Sir John Wallis, and he wishes me to say that he would like the girls who are to compete for the preliminary examination for the Scholars.h.i.+p to write their answers to the English History questions.

He has sent over the questions in this envelope, and you can all read them, and you are to write your answers in advance, and fold them up and put them into envelopes for him to open and read to-night. I believe there are ten questions, but his rule is that you are none of you to be helped by any book in the answers, and that no one girl is to a.s.sist another. That is all, my dears; you can go into the school-room and get the matter through in less than an hour if you like. And now hurry away, for there is no time to lose. I will have the question pinned up in the school-room for you all to see."

Mrs. Clavering hastened away, and all the girls of the Upper school, seven in all, presently found themselves seated by their desks, busily answering Sir John Wallis's questions on the reign of Queen Elizabeth.

When Mrs. Clavering had made her statement Florence had cast one anxious, half-despairing glance in Kitty's direction, and Kitty had slowly raised her arched eyebrows and looked at her friend with compa.s.sion and distress.

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

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

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

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

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

"I shall never answer them," she said to herself; "it is quite impossible. I have not the faintest idea what he means by question five, for instance. She hated Mary Queen of Scots, I know that, and she got her to be imprisoned, I know that also; but what is the story in connection with the Earl of Leicester? I cannot, cannot remember it. Oh, how tiresome, how more than tiresome--this may lose me my chance with the lucky three, for Alice Cunningham is trying quite hard, and Edith King is having a regular fight over the matter; and of course, there is no doubt that Kitty Sharston will be elected to try for the Scholars.h.i.+p, but I--yes, I must be elected--I will; but what shall I do?"

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

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

"After all, being included in the lucky three does not mean winning the Scholars.h.i.+p," she said to herself, "and I should so like to be one of the three. I think I will take one look; there is no one in the house at present. I saw Kitty cross the courtyard and go in the direction of the garden not half an hour ago. No one will know, and I shall have an equal chance with the others; if not, I shall fail, and to fail now would drive me mad."

Just at that moment Florence, who had approached the window in her restless pacing up and down, saw the postboy enter the courtyard. She ran out to meet him. He brought several letters, and amongst others one for Florence from her mother. She took it back with her to the schoolroom. Mrs. Aylmer's letters were never particularly cheerful, but Florence opened it now with a slight degree of eagerness.

"I have good news for you, Florence," wrote her mother; "if you succeed in being elected as one of the three who are to compete for Sir John Wallis's Scholars.h.i.+p, I shall certainly contrive to give you a week at Dawlish with me. Of course, if you fail it will be utterly useless, and I should not dream of wasting the money; so try your very best, my dear child, for there is more in this than meets the eye. It will make the most immense difference in your life, my dear Florence, if you gain this Scholars.h.i.+p, and also in the life of your affectionate mother. I may as well add here that your Aunt Susan becomes more intolerable day by day, and it is extremely probable that she will soon cease to pay your school fees at all. If that is the case, my dear, I really do not know what is to become of you, as I certainly cannot afford to meet them. Try your best for the Scholars.h.i.+p, dear. If you win it write to me immediately and I will send you the money to come home."

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

She folded it up and slipped it into her pocket; the next instant she had crossed the room, had opened Kitty's desk, and taken out the envelope with its folded sheet of paper within. She unfolded the paper and glanced at its contents. One quick glance was sufficient. She put back the paper into the envelope, shut Kitty's desk, and returned to her own.

Her cheeks were redder than ever and her heart was beating wildly, but she knew what she wanted to know. Florence folded up her own sheet of paper, put it into its envelope, and laid it in her desk. She felt pretty certain now of being elected as one of the lucky three, and no one need ever know that she had peeped at Kitty's answers. After all, but for this ridiculous and sudden prohibition on the part of Sir John Wallis, Kitty would have helped her with her English History all the afternoon. Now, of course, she could not ask her, but never mind, she knew what she wanted to know.

Her heart felt a little uncomfortable, and, notwithstanding the hope that she might spend a week at Dawlish with her mother, to whom she was devotedly attached, and the further hope of taking an honorable place in the coming compet.i.tion, she felt a queer sense of depression.

She was just preparing to leave the school-room when the door opened and Mademoiselle Le Brun looked in. She did not see Florence at first, then she glanced at her and spoke hurriedly.

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

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

"I have to give her a s.h.i.+lling back out of the change."

"A s.h.i.+lling out of the change; what do you mean?"

"Oh, nothing, my dear; I ought not to tell you; I owe her a s.h.i.+lling, that's all."

"By the way, mademoiselle," said Florence, "I have not thanked you yet for getting me that lovely ribbon. How was it you managed to get it so cheaply?"

Mademoiselle looked very knowing.

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

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

Florence walked quickly to the window. She looked out. The sun was still high in the heavens, for on this midsummer day it would take a long time before the evening arrived. Florence's heart beat harder than ever, for suddenly her eyes were opened, and she knew how she had got the cherry-colored ribbon. Kitty had given it to her, and Florence had stolen some of Kitty's knowledge and applied it to herself.

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

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

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

It was very unpleasant to be lowered in her own eyes, but she would go through with the matter now, whatever befell.

The chance of going to Dawlish, the chance of winning the Scholars.h.i.+p, meant too much to her; she must secure this good thing which had fallen in her path at any cost.

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

Kitty, who was not too well provided with clothes, nevertheless did possess one very smart evening frock. It was made of lovely Indian muslin, exquisitely embroidered and beautifully made. She took it now out of her trunk, and looked at it with admiration. Her father had bought this Indian muslin for her, having sent for it straight away to India, and he had himself superintended the making of the beautiful dress.

Kitty's fingers trembled now as she slipped the soft folds over her head, and tucked in the spray of cherry-colored ribbons just above her white satin belt, and then she tied back her hair with the same s.h.i.+ny soft ribbon, and looked at her little pale face in the gla.s.s and wondered how soon she would see her father again.

"Oh, father! father!" she thought, "I am going to try my hardest, my very, very hardest, and all for your sake, and I'll be brave for your sake, and three years won't be very long pa.s.sing if I spend every moment of the time in working my very hardest, and doing my very best for you."

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

Mabel and Alice Cunningham were in soft pink dresses, a little paler in shade than the cherry-colored ribbons which as a matter of course they would wear, and one and all of the girls of the Upper school were becomingly and suitably dressed, with the exception of poor Florence; but Florence's muslin dress was coa.r.s.e in texture and badly made, and notwithstanding the soft cherry-colored ribbons, she did not look her best. Also her head ached, and she was in low spirits.

Kitty was particularly affectionate to Florence, and she asked her now in an anxious tone how she had managed with regard to her English History.

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

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

"Oh, I know you are anything but a dunce," replied Kitty; "I don't take you for one, I a.s.sure you, Florence, only I did hope that I might help you in English History, for that is my strong point."

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

"There, don't pull my dress about any more. Thank you, I like my cherry bow here better than in my belt. Don't touch me, please."