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"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 as well make up your mind, Kitty Sharston." But Kitty never heard her, she was deep in her father's letter.
Then, too, it was an open secret that she was Sir John's favorite; it had been whispered by more than one visitor to another that it was on account of Kitty Sharston that this great fuss had been made, that the Scholarship had been opened to the competition of the school, that the girls were here, that they themselves were here it was all on account of this slim little girl with the big eyes and the sweet pathetic face; and reminiscences of Sir John and Kitty's father together side by side, shoulder to shoulder, in the trenches before Sebastopol arose in the memory of one or two visitors present.
"You are bound to be a very circumspect young lady, as you are under such strict surveillance." "You need not suppose for a single moment that I am the least afraid of either of you," was her answer, and she gave her head a little toss which was not in the least saucy, but was very pretty to see. Colonel Sharston smiled and turned to his friend.
If Florence won the Scholarship and became the adopted heiress of a rich aunt, the opportunities in favor of Bertha's advancement would be enormous. On the other hand, if Mary Bateman won the Scholarship nothing at all would happen to further Bertha's interest. The same might be said with regard to Kitty Sharston.
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.
"I know well that Colonel Sharston even now is far from rich," she said to herself. "I will not let Kitty feel that I have put myself upon her." So very firmly she declined the invitation, and one short week after she had bidden her mother good bye at Dawlish she found herself alone in London.
Think just for a moment: 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 and keen as you think your little inward monitor, it is at best but a poor weakling.
"I will be quite plain with you," said Bertha. "If you are not prepared to sacrifice more than your time, more than your health, you will fail, for Kitty Sharston has what you have not. She has the imaginative mind and the noble heart." "Oh," said Florence. She colored, and tried to wriggle once again away from her companion. "I must speak plainly," said Bertha.
Florence, smart enough about most things, was altogether foiled when a work 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 Kitty Sharston were not sharing the oak parlor with Florence. They were out in the cherry orchard; their gay voices and merry laughter might have been heard echoing away through the open window.
"I was curious; I had reason to be," he replied. "I went home. Miss Keys, Miss Sharston and others were in the hall. They were talking about you, and Miss Sharston showed me one of your stories. I read it; we both read it, and with keen curiosity." "Was it the first or the second?" said Florence. "The first story. It was clever; it was not a bit the sort of story I thought you would have written."
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