A Bunch of Cherries: A Story of Cherry Court School

Mademoiselle looked very knowing.

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

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

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

She hated herself for it, but not enough to retract what she had done. She went up to her room, threw herself on the bed, and burst out crying.

Yes, she would stick to it now, but, all the same, she hated herself. It was very unpleasant to be lowered in her own eyes, but she would go through with the matter now, whatever befell.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You are quite conceited about it, I do believe," said Florence. "There, don't pull my dress about any more. Thank you, I like my cherry bow here better than in my belt. Don't touch me, please."

Florence hated herself beyond words for being so cross, but the fact was her heart ached so badly she could scarcely be civil to Kitty.

She ran downstairs, and for the rest of the evening kept out of Kitty Sharston's way.

Yes; it was a glorious evening, and everything passed off without a hitch of any sort. The guests consisted of all the best people in the neighborhood. They sat round and applauded all the girls, who danced the minuet with becoming grace and looked very pretty as they glided about on the lamp-lit lawn.

And then one or two of them recited, and one or two of them sang songs, and then there was a great chorus in which all the girls joined, and then they danced Sir Roger de Coverley to the merry strains of a string band, and presently the great occasion of all came when the girls, followed by the guests, entered the great central hall of Cherry Court, and the prizes were given away.

Florence obtained two prizes, a beautiful edition of Scott's poems, and also a little portfolio full of some pretty water-color drawings, for Florence had a great taste for art, and had managed to come out at the head of the school with her own water-color sketches.

The other girls also obtained prizes, all but Kitty Sharston, who was not long enough in the school to be entitled to one.

Kitty found herself now close to Sir John Wallis, who motioned to her to come up to his side, and pointed to a chair near where she could sit.

"I heard from your father this morning," he said, "and I mean to send him a cable to Malta if you are elected as one of the fortunate three. He expects to touch Malta on Saturday, and the cable will be waiting for him with the good news, I make not the slightest doubt."

"Oh, will you? How splendid of you!" said Kitty; "but perhaps I shall not succeed."

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

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

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

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

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

Kitty never forgot the hour which was spent in the oak parlor with her companions of the Upper school. She did not know how she answered the questions put with great animation by Sir John. She only knew that her heart was beating wildly, and she was thinking all the time of that cablegram which would comfort her father when he reached Malta, and resolving as surely girl never resolved before not to disappoint him, to give him if she could, if it were any way within her power, that supreme pleasure. And so when the hour was over and the brief examination was made, and the names of the successful competitors called out, and Kitty Sharston's name appeared at the head of the list, she could only look at Sir John, and think of the cablegram, and not feel at all elated, although her companions clustered around her and shook her hand and wished her joy.

The two other successful competitors were Florence Aylmer and Mary Bateman.

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

CHAPTER IX.

THE LITTLE MUMMY

It was a week afterwards when Kitty stood at the gate of Cherry Court School to wish Florence Aylmer good-bye, for Florence had obtained the darling wish of her heart, and was on her way to Dawlish to spend a week with her mother. She was to travel third-class, and the journey was a long one, and the day happened to be specially hot, but nothing could damp Florence's delight, and Kitty, as she watched her, could not help 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, agreeable girl as she did so, and then Kitty turned slowly back to the house and Florence found herself alone. She was driving in a hired chaise to Hilchester railway-station. She had said good-bye to Kitty and to Mrs. Clavering, and her earnest wish was that the week might spread itself into two or three, and that she could banish all thought of Kitty and Mrs. Clavering and Cherry Court School from her mind.

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

All during her hot journey across England to the cool and delightful watering-place of Dawlish, Florence thought more and more of her mother. She was an only child, her father having died when she was five years old, and Mrs. Aylmer had always been terribly poor, and Florence had always known what it was to stint and screw and do without those things which were as the breath of life to most girls. And Florence was naturally not at all a contented girl, and she had fought against her position, and disliked having to stint and screw, and she had hated her shabby dress and unwieldy boots and ugly hats and coarse fare.

But one portion of her lot abundantly contented her – she had no fault to 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 as Kitty would do for her father in hers.

And now her heart beat high and her spirits rose as she approached nearer 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 last drew up at Dawlish, and Mrs. Aylmer stood on the platform waiting to receive her daughter.

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

"Oh, Mummy, it is good to see you," said Florence. She had a brusque voice and a brusque manner, but nothing could keep the thrill out of her 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 see you, it is good!"

"Then come right off home, Florry," said Mrs. Aylmer; "I have got shrimps for tea and some brown bread and butter, and Sukey made the bread specially for you this morning; you always liked home-made bread. Come along; the porter will bring your trunk in presently. You'll see to 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 than her parent, walked down the little shingly beach, and a moment afterwards 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 as well as ever, sunburnt – so much the better. Now then, for a hug."