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"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. Let her suppose what she will, this money is mine."
Having made these remarks under her breath, Bertha calmly tore poor Florence's letter into a thousand tiny fragments. These she scattered to the four winds, and then, humming a gay air to herself, proceeded on her way to Hilchester. She transacted her business, went to a shop and purchased out of one of Florence's sovereigns some gay ribbons and laces for her own bedizenment, and then returned home.
"Did you post my letter?" said Florence, who met her in one of the corridors.
"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 ease her overburdened conscience, and she was more cheerful and happy-looking that evening.
The next day at an early hour, as Florence was standing in the oak parlor alone for a wonder, for neither Mary Bateman nor Kitty Sharston were 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 the themes are done. They must be very good ones."
"I must do my best," said Florence, in a gloomy voice; "there is not the least doubt that I shall beat Kitty Sharston in mathematics and arithmetic, and as to Mary Bateman, she has not a sc.r.a.p of imagination in her composition."
"But the little Kitty has a great deal," said Miss Keys, in a reflective tone. "I have read some of her themes; she has a poetical mind. The programme for the great day is to be given out also this afternoon, and I believe Sir John intends to read the three Scholars.h.i.+p essays aloud, and the guests present are then to vote with regard to the fortunate winner. Of course, the theme will not quite decide the Scholars.h.i.+p, but it will go a very long way in that direction. I have seen Sir John, and I know that all his tendencies, all his feelings are in favor of Miss Sharston."
"There is little doubt on that point," replied Florence; "if it were not for Kitty Sharston this Scholars.h.i.+p would never have been offered.
I wish it never had been offered," she continued, with a burst of confidence which she could scarcely repress. "Oh, Miss Keys, I have a great weight on my mind; I am a miserable girl."
"I see you are, but why don't you confide in me? I believe I could sympathize with you; I also believe I could help you."
"I will, I must win," said poor Florence. "Oh, I could scarcely sleep last night with thinking of my mother. I am so truly, truly glad that you were able to post that letter in time; but for your happening to go to Hilchester she would not have had it this morning. Now she must be feeling great relief."
"I can post as many more letters to your mother as you like," said Bertha Keys. "I will do anything in my power for you; I want you to believe that. I want you to believe also that I am in a position to give you serious and substantial help."
"Thank you," said Florence. She gazed into Bertha's eyes, and felt a strange thrill.
Bertha had a rare power of magnetism, and could influence almost any girl who had not sufficiently high principles to withstand her power.
She now hastily left the oak parlor to attend to her studies, and Florence sat down to begin her studies. Her head ached, and she felt restless and miserable. She envied Kitty's serene face and Mary Bateman's downright, sensible way of attacking her subjects.
"I cannot think how you keep so calm about it," she said to Mary, in the course of that morning; "suppose you lose?"
"I have thought it all out," answered Mary, "and I cannot do more than my best. If I succeed I shall be truly, truly glad. If I fail I shall be no worse off than I was before. I wish you would feel as I do about it, Florry, and not make yourself quite ill over the subject. The fact is you are not half as nice as you were last term when everyone called you Tommy."
"Oh, I know, I know," answered Florence, "but I cannot go back now.
What do you think the theme for the Scholars.h.i.+p will be?"
"I have not the slightest idea. That theme will be Kitty's strong point; there is not the slightest doubt about that."
Florence bent again over her French exercise. She was fairly good at French, and her German was also pa.s.sable, but as she read and worked and struggled through a difficult piece of translation her thoughts wandered again and again to the subject of the English theme. What would it be? History, poetry, or anything literary?
The more she thought, the less she liked the idea of this supreme test.
Dinner pa.s.sed, and the moment for the rea.s.sembling of the school for afternoon work arrived. Just as all the girls were streaming into the large 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 all interested in the Scholars.h.i.+p, which may be offered another year to some further girls of Cherry Court School, I may as well say that I have just received a letter from him suggesting the theme for the essay. I will repeat to you what he has said."
Mrs. Clavering stood beside her desk and looked down the long school-room. The room contained at this moment every girl in the school, also the teachers. Florence glanced in the direction of Bertha Keys. She was standing just where a ray of light from one of the windows caught the reflection of her red hair, which surrounded her pale face like a glory. She wore it, not in the fas.h.i.+on of the day, but in an untidy and yet effective style. The girls of the day wore their hair neatly plaited and smooth to their heads.
One of Mrs. Clavering's special objections to Bertha was her untidy head. She often longed to ask her to get a brush and smooth out those rough locks.
Nevertheless, that very roughness of her hair gave her face a look of power, and several girls gazed at her now half fascinated. Bertha's light blue eyes flashed one glance in Florence's direction, and were then lowered. She liked best to keep her most secret thoughts to herself.
Mrs. Clavering glanced round the room, and then, opening Sir John's letter, spread it out before her.
"I will read you my friend's letter aloud," she said; "you will all clearly understand what he says." She then proceeded to read:
"MY DEAR MRS. CLAVERING: After a great deal of reflection I have resolved that the all-important essay which the lucky three are to write shall be on the following subject--Heroism. This opens up a wide field, and will test the capacities of each of the young compet.i.tors.
The essay is to be written under the following conditions: It is to be the unaided work of the compet.i.tor; it is to contain not less than two thousand words and not more than two thousand five hundred. It is to be written without the aid of books of reference, and when finished is to be unsigned and put into a blank envelope. The three envelopes containing the essays are to be handed to you, who will not open them, but will place them before me on the night of the Scholars.h.i.+p compet.i.tion.
"Further particulars with regard to the compet.i.tion I will let you know in a few days, but I may as well say now that most of the examination will be _viva voce_, and will consist of eight questions relating to the study of the French language, eight questions on the study of the German tongue, eight mathematical questions, eight arithmetical questions, eight questions on English History, and eight on English Literature. In addition, a piece of music will be played by each girl and a song sung by each; but the final and most searching test of all will be the essay, which in itself will contain, I doubt not, the innermost heart of the compet.i.tor, for she cannot truly write on Heroism without understanding something of what a hero or heroine should be. Thus that innermost spirit which must guide her life will come to the front. Her spelling and English composition will be subjected to the best tests by means of those written words; her handwriting will not go without comment; her style will be noted. She can make her essay rich with reference, and thus prove the varied quality of her reading. And the grace of her diction will to a certain extent testify to her ladylike deportment and the entire breadth of her education.
"I need add no more. I have thought deeply over this matter, and trust my 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 the one of looking after the postbag. Every afternoon she took the girls'
letters and put them in that receptacle, hanging the key on a little hook in the hall. Morning after morning it was she who received the postbag, unlocked it, and brought the contents to Mrs. Clavering, who always distributed the letters herself. Thus it was easy for Bertha to abstract the letters which contained the Dawlish postmark. She did this for a reason. It would never do for Florence to find out that her mother had not received the letter with the postoffice order.
Bertha knew well that if enquiries were made it could be quickly proved that she had never obtained a postoffice order at all, and thus her own ruin would be the result of her theft. She had taken the two sovereigns in a momentary and strong impulse, and had since to a certain extent regretted her foolhardy and wicked deed. Not that she regretted it because she had stolen the money, but because she feared the consequences. She now, therefore, had a double object for putting Florence Aylmer into her power. If she could do that, if by means of some underhand action on her part she could win the Scholars.h.i.+p for Florence, Florence would help her in the future, and even if Bertha's theft was known to her, would never dare to betray her. It is well known that it is the first step which costs, and Bertha's first theft was followed by the purloining of several letters from poor Mrs. Aylmer to her daughter.
At first Florence, relieved with regard to her mother's financial condition, did not bother about this silence. She was very much occupied and intensely anxious on her own account, but when more than a week went by and she had no letter from Dawlish, she began to get alarmed. What could be wrong?
In these days it would be easy for a girl to satisfy her nervous terrors by means of a telegram, but in 1870 a telegram cost a s.h.i.+lling, and Florence was now saving every penny of her money to send to her mother. She hoped soon to have another two pounds to transmit to her by means of a post-office order. For Mrs. Aylmer the great was thoroughly generous now to Florence, and never a letter arrived which did not contain a money remittance.
"She never guesses that it all goes to the little Mummy, that it helps to cheer her life and to give her some of the comforts she needs,"
thought the anxious girl; "but why, why does not Mummy write?"