A Bunch of Cherries Part 15

"All right," said Florence.

"You have not taken your tea, dearest. Is there any little thing you would fancy--I am sure Sukey would run to the butcher's--a sweetbread or 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 and started back for Cherry Court School. It was very luxurious to lie back on the soft padded cus.h.i.+ons of the first-cla.s.s carriage and gaze around her, and sometimes start up and look at her own image in the gla.s.s opposite. She could not help seeing that she looked much nicer in her white sailor hat, her pretty white gloves, and well-fitting dark blue 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 again and again, and in her purse were ten s.h.i.+llings, and in her mother's purse were three pounds, for the difference between the third-cla.s.s and the first-cla.s.s fares had been paid, and Florence, after keeping ten s.h.i.+llings for immediate expenses, could still hand her mother three pounds.

"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 to say a word to your Aunt Susan about her cast-offs; I scarcely liked to do so. But there are your clothes too, dear; I can cut them up and make use of them. Yes, I am quite a rich woman, and it is all owing to the Scholars.h.i.+p."

The thought of that three pounds for her mother did comfort Florry, and her conscience was not accusing her so loudly that day, so she sat back on the cus.h.i.+ons and reviewed the position. She was going back to Cherry Court School as a rich girl; what would her companions think of her?

CHAPTER XIII.

AN INVITATION.

The holidays had come to an end, and the girls were returning to the school. The three who were to compete for Sir John's Scholars.h.i.+p had special desks a.s.signed 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 had written to Mrs. Clavering to beg of her to take her niece Florence for a week's change on the seaside, and Mrs. Clavering had insisted on Kitty accompanying them, and, as Mrs. Aylmer paid the greater part of the expenses, the girls had a good time.

Mrs. Aylmer now wrote twice a week, if not to Florence herself, at least to Mrs. Clavering; and Mrs. Clavering had to alter her views with regard to Florence, to give her every advantage possible, and to look upon her with a certain amount of respect.

"It certainly is most important that you should get that Scholars.h.i.+p,"

she said once to the young girl. "Mrs. Aylmer has explained the whole position to me, but then you won't get it, Florence, unless you earn it."

"I know that," said Florence.

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

"Oh, I quite understand," said Florence.

"Then there is also Mary Bateman. Mary has not as brilliant an intellect 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 gets to the head of her cla.s.s. Mary is neither rich nor poor, but she would be very glad of the Scholars.h.i.+p, and says that it would give her father and mother great happiness if she obtained it; so you see, dear, you three girls are to work for the same goal--it is almost as important to one of you as to another. I want you therefore to be perfectly fair in your dealings each with the other, and to try to keep envy and all ill-feeling out of your hearts. The one who wins this great generous offer of Sir John Wallis must not think more highly of herself than she ought, and those who lose must bear their loss with resignation, feeling that they have acquired a great deal of knowledge, even if they have not acquired anything else, and trying to rejoice in the success of the one who has succeeded. The next few months until October will be a time of strain, and I hope my dear girls will be equal to the occasion."

Florence got very red while Mrs. Clavering was speaking to her.

"Sometimes----" she said, in a low voice, and then she paused and her tone faltered.

"What is it, Florence?"

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

"It is brave of you to confess all this, Florence, and I think none the worse of you for doing so, and if you pray against this feeling it will not increase, dear. Now go away and prepare for your French paper. By the way, a special master is coming twice a week now to coach all three of 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 Cherry Court Scholars.h.i.+p, and the lucky three were looked upon with wonder and a little envy by their less fortunate companions, for their privileges were so great and the goal set before them so high. For instance, Mrs.

Clavering had so contrived matters that the three could work at their special Scholars.h.i.+p studies in the oak parlor. She had given each girl a desk with a lock and key, where she could keep her different themes and exercises. They had a special master to teach them deportment in all its different branches, and once a week they spent an evening in Mrs. Clavering's drawing-room, where special guests were invited to see them.

On these occasions the young girls had to act turn about as hostess, pouring out tea, receiving the visitors, seeing them out again, and entering into what was considered in the early seventies polite conversation. The almost lost art of conversation was as far as possible revived during the time of Scholars.h.i.+p compet.i.tion, and in order to give Kitty, Florence, and Mary greater opportunities of talking 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 a.s.semble in the drawing-room on the occasions of the weekly conversazione, as it was called, and a special subject was then introduced, which the girls were obliged to handle as deftly and as well as they could.

As to conduct marks, there was nothing said about conduct, and no one put down those marks except the head mistress herself. Florence sometimes trembled when she met her eyes. She wondered if those calm grey eyes could read through down into her secret soul, could guess that she herself was unworthy, that she had committed a deed which ought really to exclude her from all chance of winning the Scholars.h.i.+p.

Then, as the days went on, Florence's conscience became a little hardened, and she was less and less troubled by what she had done with regard to Kitty Sharston.

Florence's change in circ.u.mstances were much commented upon by the other girls, and there is no doubt that in her neatly-fitting dress with her abundant pocket-money she did appear a more gracious and a more agreeable girl than she had done in the old days when her frock was shabby, her pinafore ugly, her pocket-money almost _nil_.

One of the first things she did on her arrival at the school was to present Kitty Sharston with a white work-bag embroidered with cherries in crewel-st.i.tch, and with a cherry-colored ribbon running through it.

She had spent from five to six s.h.i.+llings on the bag, and had denied herself 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 with pride to her companions as Florence's gift.

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

Florence meant it as payment for the cherry-colored ribbons, but she did 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 comforted her conscience just a little to present the bag to Kitty.

The Scholars.h.i.+p was to be competed for on the thirtieth of October, and the girls rea.s.sembled at Cherry Court School about the fifteenth of August.

Three weeks after the school had recommenced, some time therefore in the first week in September, Mary Bateman, who had been bending for a long time over her desk with her hands pressed to her temples and her cheeks somewhat flushed, suddenly raised her eyes and encountered the fixed stare of Kitty Sharston. Kitty had done her work and was leaning back in her chair. Kitty's sweet pale face looked a little paler than usual. She was expecting a letter from her father, and on the week when the letter was to arrive she always looked a little paler and a little 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 good at composition."

"I am not at all good at other things," replied Kitty, in a gentle voice; "mathematics, for instance; and as to my arithmetic, it is shameful. Father wants me to be able to keep accounts very well for him. I shall do that when I go to India, but still I have no ability for 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 rose into her cheeks, leaving them the next moment more pallid than ever.

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

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

"It is so strange all about this Scholars.h.i.+p," continued Mary, in an uneasy voice, "that we three should long for it so earnestly, and yet each 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 little less to me than it does to you and Florence. Florence is the one likely 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 am selfish--I try not to be, and I would do anything for you, Mary, and anything for Florence; but--but I can't give up the Scholars.h.i.+p: it means too much."

She s.h.i.+vered slightly.