The Project Gutenberg eBook ofElsie's scholarshipThis ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.Title: Elsie's scholarshipand why she surrendered itAuthor: Emma LeslieRelease date: June 14, 2024 [eBook #73829]Language: EnglishOriginal publication: London: Gall and Inglis, 1898*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ELSIE'S SCHOLARSHIP ***
This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.
Title: Elsie's scholarshipand why she surrendered itAuthor: Emma LeslieRelease date: June 14, 2024 [eBook #73829]Language: EnglishOriginal publication: London: Gall and Inglis, 1898
Title: Elsie's scholarship
and why she surrendered it
Author: Emma Leslie
Author: Emma Leslie
Release date: June 14, 2024 [eBook #73829]
Language: English
Original publication: London: Gall and Inglis, 1898
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ELSIE'S SCHOLARSHIP ***
Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.
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"I must congratulate both you scholarship girls."
AND
Why She Surrendered It
BY
EMMA LESLIE
Author of "The Seed She Sowed,""Caught in a Trap," &c.
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London
GALL AND INGLIS, 25 PATERNOSTER SQUARE;
AND EDINBURGH.
PRINTEDAND BOUND BY
GALL AND INGLIS
LUTTON PLACEEDINBURGH
Contents.
CHAPTER
I. CANDIDATES
II. THE EXAMINATION
III. THE MASTER'S PROPOSAL
IV. A BRAVE RESOLUTION
V. TOM'S ILLNESS
VI. JACK BOND
VII. CHANGES
VIII. JACK'S NEW HOME
IX. JACK'S BICYCLE
X. THE NEW SCHOOL
XI. A MEMORABLE FIGHT
XII. HERBERT MILNER
XIII. ENQUIRIES
XIV. EARNEST ENDEAVOURS
XV. A NEW FRIEND FOR ELSIE
XVI. A FRIEND IN NEED
XVII. TOM'S SCHOLARSHIP
XVIII. CONCLUSION
ELSIE'S SCHOLARSHIP.
CANDIDATES.
"ELSIE WINN, Mary Nicholls, and Jane Holmes—stand out here!"
The three girls named looked up from the lesson they were learning, at the teacher first, and then at each other. What could they have done that they should be called out of the class like this? They were friends, and, like all girl friends, sometimes found a good deal to talk about; but they had not been talking this morning. Indeed, they had been very earnestly engaged with their lesson, for they were anxious to do as well as possible just now. And so they were the more puzzled as they left their seats, and, with hands behind, ranged themselves in front of the class and facing the teacher.
"You three are to go and sit on the top row by yourselves; one at either end, and one in the middle."
The girls did not speak; but oh! What a change came over their faces, as they turned and walked past the end of the row of desks up to the top row. As they paused before passing on, one contrived to whisper,—
"I do believe we are chosen after all."
"Hush! Here's governess."
And up the other side stepped a brisk business-like lady with some papers in her hand, which she placed before the girls.
"Now, each of you answer those questions; but mind, you are not to speak to each other, or anyone else. Now see if you have all you want before I go. Those are last year's examination papers," she added.
The girls were delighted with their task; for if they could only succeed, and pass the examination, they would win honour for their school and for themselves; and better still, twenty pounds a year, to pay for their education at a higher class school.
The thought of this was in the mind of each as she carefully read over the questions, and the directions how they were to be answered. Not that this was the crucial examination: that would be conducted at another school later in the year. But they were anxious to compete for a scholarship, and so they were to have a preliminary trial, going over all the previous year's papers as a preliminary, that they themselves, as well as the teacher, might judge whether they were competent to make a decent show, even if they failed to win the coveted prize.
For an hour the pens scratched, and then the governess came in to see how much they had written.
"Yes, you may go on," she said encouragingly to all three.
And the girls bent over the desk with renewed zest and energy, and applied themselves to the task before them. By the time that the stipulated two hours, allowed in the proper examination, was up, they had done very fairly, and their governess was well satisfied.
"You shall take another subject this afternoon," she said, as she scanned their papers. "Come in good time, so that you may get the full two hours."
The girls were as pleased as their governess, and held their heads an inch or two higher as they went out of school with the rest. They did not loiter in the playground that day, for each was eager to tell the news at home. For this examination had been talked of among the girls in the upper classes for some weeks past, and no one knew until this morning who was destined to be allowed to try for a scholarship.
At each of their homes the news was received with satisfaction; but no one was more pleased than Mrs. Winn, to hear that her daughter had been chosen as one of the candidates; for she knew how anxious Elsie was to continue her education, and that this was the only chance she was likely to have of doing so. Elsie was the eldest of five, and without this help they could not send her to school much longer, for she was nearly thirteen, and if she failed to pass this examination, she would have to leave school altogether in a few months' time.
There was nothing talked of during dinner but the examination. Indeed, the girl was so eager and so anxious, that it almost took her appetite away. And before her mother could get her to finish what was put upon her plate, she had to remind her that if she did not eat her dinner, she would certainly have the headache, and fail through that.
But, eager as she was, she did not run off until she had helped her mother to clear the table, and had washed the little ones ready for school. Then, having done this, she put on her own things, and was back at the school gates by the time the bell had begun to ring.
"The three scholarship girls go in first, and take their places where they sat this morning," said the teacher, when she saw the three standing together in a group.
"Scholarship girls!" How proud they felt of the distinction thus bestowed upon them! They turned and hurried into school as though they trod upon air. And by the time the rest came in, they were comfortably seated in their places.
"Now mind, if you do go in for this examination, girls, that you are in time to take your seats and collect your wits before the papers are given out—just as you have done this afternoon," said their governess, as she handed them the printed questions they were to answer, and the paper upon which the answers were to be written.
Again they sat and pondered the questions over, but this afternoon they did not seem so clear—at least to one of the girls—as the morning paper had been; and the teacher at the other end of the room saw that Jane Holmes spent more time biting the end of her penholder than using it in the usual way. But she took no notice; and the others wrote on until the first hour was up, and then the governess came to see how much was done.
Elsie Winn and Mary Nicholls had made very fair progress, she saw; but poor Jane was trembling with excitement, and had not written half a dozen lines.
"My dear, you must give it up," said her governess, kindly, "I was afraid whether you would be able to manage it."
"But—I—I—" and then the poor girl burst into tears.
And her governess took her hand and led her from the room, amid the dead silence of the rest, who wondered what could have happened to this scholarship girl.
The governess did not speak for a minute or two, but let the tears have their way, and then she said, "Come, come, Jane, no harm has been done. I was half afraid that you would not be able to go through an examination like this, and so I thought it would be best to try you first. Does your head ache?"
The girl shook her head. "I don't know how I feel," she whispered.
"But you did not clearly understand the questions on the paper, I suppose, as you had written so little."
"I can't tell how it was, for we had done some of that in class only yesterday; and yet I felt so stupid I could not remember a word about it."
"Never mind, my dear. No harm has been done; this is only a little trial beforehand, and is sufficient to shew that you are not strong enough to go through an examination. For, as you saw, this subject is not strange to you, and yet you have failed to grasp the meaning of the questions set before you, and which I feel sure at another time you would not find so difficult."
So Jane spent the rest of the afternoon in doing little services for her governess by way of consolation for her disappointment; for now there would be only two scholarship girls instead of three. Her friends, Elsie and Mary, were very sorry, and did what they could to console her, but it was not easy to do this, for they had been working and studying for some months with this in view, and now to fail so completely—as Jane knew she had done—was a very bitter disappointment to her, and would be to her mother also, she felt sure.
She was an only child, and her mother was a widow, and, of course, anxious that her daughter should distinguish herself.
"She will be vexed that I am such a dolt," said Jane bitterly.
"Now, Jane, I think you ought to be fair, even to yourself, and it is not fair to call yourself names that you don't deserve."
"What is that you are talking about?" suddenly asked a voice behind them; and turning, the girls saw Mrs. Holmes.
"I was speaking about Jane having to give up the examination," said Elsie. "I heard governess say, that it was not because Jane was not as clever as either of us, but because she was not so strong; and because she had sat closely at the work in the morning, she could not grasp the subject in the afternoon—not because she did not know as much about it as we did, but because she was not strong enough to bear the second strain in one day."
"Then why should she set you the second task on the same day?" said the widow, who was evidently inclined to think her daughter had been unfairly treated, if she had failed in this preliminary examination.
"You see, we should have to work all day in the real examination," interposed Mary, "and so governess wanted us to try how we could do the same work at school."
"Ah! I see. And so you have failed, Jane! Well, I am very sorry," said her mother.
And the tone in which she spoke brought the tears to Jane's eyes again; for only she knew how her mother had counted upon her being able to try for this scholarship, and being able to win it too.
She walked on by her mother's side, leaving her two friends to continue their talk by themselves.
"I am sorry for poor Jane," said Elsie; "her mother seems so disagreeable because she has failed—how sharp she spoke! I wonder whether she really does think governess did not treat us all alike. But there, Jane will tell her she had to give up before her paper was half finished, and so it will be all right, I daresay. But I'm sorry she has had to give up, for it would have been nice if we could have got three scholarships for our school. Governess would have been so pleased."
"But should you think there would be enough for each of us to get one? See what a lot of money it would cost," said Elsie.
"Well, as there will be only two of us now, they will perhaps be able to let us both have one, if we do very well; and governess said our morning papers were very good indeed."
"Oh yes! They will be able to spare two, I daresay, if they could not spare three; and so perhaps it is just as well poor Jane has dropped out now. It is better than having all the trouble of going through the examination, and then to fail because there were not scholarships enough for all."
The girls parted, and each went home to tell the news that Jane had been obliged to give up all hope of being a scholarship girl.
"Elsie dear, don't talk so loudly; your father is lying down with a bad headache."
"Father at home!" exclaimed Elsie. "He has come early."
"Yes, he did not feel very well this morning, and was obliged to give up at dinner time; and so he came home and went to bed."
Elsie talked more quietly after this, until she got out her school book to learn a lesson and write out an exercise.
She was almost too excited to sleep that night, for if she only succeeded in winning this scholarship, she would be able to go to the girls' grammar school, and then—and then—she did not quite know what she wished for next; for her whole horizon had been bounded by the hope of going to the grammar school, until her mother told her one day that it would be useless for her to look forward to this, for she would not be able to afford the expense, there being so many brothers and sisters to be considered.
Elsie had cried a little to herself that day; but the very next her governess had said, that she thought of letting some of the elder girls try for a scholarship. And ever since that day, she had secretly hoped that she might be one of those who were chosen. And now her hopes had been realised, and she might be able to go to the grammar school after all.
Her father came down to breakfast next morning, looking very pale and ill; but he smiled at Elsie's eagerness, as she told him that she was trying to do the scholarship papers, and hoped to be allowed to compete at the next examination, which took place in about a fortnight's time.
"All right, Elsie. Do the best you can, my girl, and leave the rest to God," he said.
"You haven't eaten much breakfast, father," said Elsie, as he rose from his seat and pushed his plate back.
"I'm not very hungry this morning," he said; and then he kissed her and the boys before he went away.
He was a clerk in London, and had to catch his train; and there was no time to say more about the scholarship or the breakfast. And Mrs. Winn did not notice that her husband had eaten so little, until she heard the door close, and knew he was gone; for she had been called away from the table.
"Has father gone?" she said, looking at the almost untasted egg.
"Yes; I told him he ought to eat his breakfast. Naughty boy!" she said to the baby, whom her mother had brought down in her arms.
But baby was not old enough to understand the scolding tone, and crowed at Elsie; and then she took him from her mother's arms, that she might cut some more bread and butter.
Baby did not mind being nursed by Elsie, but he would not let the younger sister, Alice, touch him; and so Elsie had to nurse him until the others were ready for school. Then she put him in her mother's arms, and ran off as fast as she could, in case the scholarship girls should be wanted to go into school first again.
She and Mary were in good time, and were sent to the top row of desks to resume their work on the scholarship papers. And before they went home that day, they had the satisfaction of hearing that they had done this preliminary work so well, that their governess had decided that Elsie and Mary Nicholls should each try for one of the much coveted scholarships. And they were to take home the necessary forms for their parents to fill up that evening, for they must be sent in, with their names, the next day.
Never was a girl more happy, or more important, than Elsie, when she went home with the long official-looking envelope containing the papers for her father to sign; and when he came in and saw it, he said the sight of it had done him so much good, that he thought he could eat some toast for tea, although he had not had much appetite all day.
"Let me make it," said Elsie, handing over the papers to her father's care. "I know just how father likes it done, mother," she added; and so Mrs. Winn cut a slice of bread, and Elsie toasted it very carefully, so that it should be delicately browned without getting burned.
Then she took the baby and amused him until it was time for him to be undressed; then she gave him up to her mother, and took the little ones upstairs and put them to bed.
"I don't know what I should do without Elsie," remarked her mother, when she was left alone with her husband.
"No, she is a useful little body about the house, as well as with the little ones, though she is so fond of her books. Ah, well! If I can get a bit stronger, so as to be able to do a bit of extra work at night, you must have a girl to help you, when Elsie gets this scholarship she has set her heart upon."
"Do you think she will get it?" asked his wife.
"I don't see why she shouldn't. She is a clever little maid," said her father, in a tone of satisfaction.
"Yes, and a loving obedient girl; and that is better still," said her mother. "But it won't do for you to attempt extra work, James, until you can get rid of this cold. You have had it more than a week now, and if it is not better in a day or two, you must go and see a doctor."
To her surprise, he said, "Yes, I will, if I don't get well soon." And Mrs. Winn resolved to make him keep his promise.
For the rest of that evening, father, mother, and Elsie sat and talked of what they would do and how they would manage if Elsie won the scholarship, and thus obtained the means of going to the girls' grammar school, little dreaming how different that future would be from what they planned it. Man proposes, God disposes, and cares for all His children as He guides them through life, with a love and wisdom so much greater than their own.
THE EXAMINATION.
THE day of the formal examination for the girls' scholarships was looked forward to with some anxiety, and both girls spent every minute of the day, and often late into the night, in working up the subjects they were likely to be examined in; but at last their study came to an end, and they went to a school a little way out of the town, where a number of other girls were assembled from other schools. And Elsie, when she saw how many there were, did not feel so confident that she and Mary would both be successful, or that either of them would, in fact. Some of the other competitors looked far more confident than she did; and her heart sank a little when she saw the paper that was placed before her.
It did not seem that any one of the subjects she had specially learned would be of much use to her. And she knew it would be the same with Mary Nicholls, and then her governess would be so disappointed!
This thought of her governess made her read her paper of questions once more; and she also remembered something her father had said—that whatever was placed before her to do, her duty was to do it as well as she could, and think no more about what result was likely to follow.
So, with this thought in her mind, she read over, once more, the directions that were printed on the paper for the guidance of candidates; and then she saw that she was not expected to answer all the questions that were put down, but could choose and take those she knew most about; and, with this in her mind, she found that there was a history question that she had heard her father talk about to her brother; and so she wrote down all she could remember of that talk, and what she had learned some time before at school.
By the help of the two, she managed to answer this question fairly well; and then she considered another. This she did not know quite so well how to answer; but still, it was less difficult than it had seemed at first, and she did what she could of that, and then took the third.
She knew a little about this too, she found, and so she recalled all she could remember; and before she had quite finished, a bell was rung from a table at which a gentleman was sitting; and they were told to put down their pens, and put their papers together, as he was now about to collect them.
There was an hour's recess for dinner, and the girls trooped out—our two friends meeting at the door.
"Wasn't it a dreadful paper?" said Mary, as they took out the sandwiches they had brought with them.
"Yes, I was afraid I could not do a single question when I first looked at it," said Elsie.
"I made up my mind that I should not even try," said Mary, "for it was so different from what I had made up my mind it would be, that it fairly made my head ache."
"I felt like giving it up too," said Elsie.
"Well, if you had, I should have done the same, for I looked across to see what you were going to do; and when I saw you writing, I thought, 'Well, if Elsie knows anything about it, I ought; for we have been in the same class all the time;' and so I looked over it more carefully, and found I could do a little bit of one question, and doing that, helped me to remember a bit more; but I don't think I have done as much as they expect us to do."
"How much do they expect us to do?" asked Elsie.
"Four questions, if you can." The answer came from a tall girl, who was walking in the playground eating her dinner, as they were.
"I know all about it, you see; because I sat for this examination last year, and failed. The questions this time are harder than they were last year," she added.
"Yes, I think they are," said Mary, "and I am afraid my friend and I will not succeed in passing."
"I don't suppose you will, if it is the first time you have tried—both from one school, too," she added.
This remark, from one who might be supposed to know so much more about the matter than they did, was not very encouraging. And they looked at each other as if wondering which would have it, if there could be only one scholarship given to each school.
The afternoon questions proved to be a little less severe for our two girls, and both sat writing away until the bell rang for them to put down their pens, and put their papers together in the required order. After this they were free to go home; the gentleman telling them to be in their places the next morning by ten minutes to nine.
"It will be arithmetic, I expect," said the girl who had gone through this ordeal the previous year. "Are you good at arithmetic?" she asked.
"We can do fractions," said Mary, with a little toss of her head, they having been taught this branch quite recently.
"I should think you could, or it wouldn't be much good for you to come here. You see, if you do the other questions ever so well, and fail in arithmetic, you fail altogether."
"Come, Mary, we must make haste home," said Elsie. For she did not want to stay talking to the girl, who seemed to enjoy piling up the difficulties that were before them.
So the two friends bade the other a hasty good-bye, and hurried along the road until they could have a quiet talk to themselves.
"I wouldn't let her frighten me," said Elsie, when they were by themselves. "We have made up our minds to go through this examination, and we must do it the best way we can."
"But suppose we are sure to fail," said Mary, who was easily disheartened.
"Well, my father says that must not make any difference if we have made up our minds to do a thing.
"'Once begin,' he says, 'go through with it, and do as well as ever you can.'
"That is what I have made up my mind to do, and I don't mean to let anyone frighten me into giving up until it is all over."
Mary was not so sure that she should do this, but she agreed to go with Elsie to the examination until it was over.
After tea they went to see their governess, and tell her what they had done, and how difficult the questions had been.
She quite endorsed Elsie's resolve to go through with it now she had begun, and she said what she could to encourage the girls; but it was easy to see that she was not very hopeful of the result; or that even one of the scholarships would come to her school, dearly as she would like to gain such an honour for it.
The next day passed much as the first had done. Mary would have given up, but that she saw that Elsie was applying herself to solve the difficulties of the sums; and she felt she must do the same, for she and Elsie had learned their lessons together; and, therefore, if Elsie could do the sums, she ought to be able to do them too.
They were glad enough when four o'clock came that day, for they were both very tired from the close application; and Mary was more than ever disposed to give up the struggle, feeling it was quite hopeless to expect that two scholarships would be awarded to one school, and quite sure that Elsie had done some of the questions better than she had; and so she might as well spare herself the mental fatigue the following day.
"But you said you would come with me to the very last," pleaded Elsie; "and there is only one more day now, and then it will be over, and we can have a rest."
So Mary promised, for her friend's sake, to go for this one more day; but she was so tired, that she had given up all hope of winning a scholarship for herself now. Still she would go and keep her friend company, and do the best she could with the questions that were given to her. And so, with this despairing promise, Elsie had to be content.
To her great relief, however, those who had the management of this examination were more merciful this last day than they were on the first. Perhaps they knew the little tired brains would not be capable of doing much,—at any rate, the girls felt hopeful. Once more, when they saw the questions they had to answer, even Mary set to work with renewed energy; and, as the examination would be over at dinner time, they could look forward to having a pleasant afternoon at school—not in learning lessons, but in helping in little things about the class, and telling governess and teachers all about the examination.
They would also have the pleasure of walking in very late, when all the classes were assembled, and yet being greeted with a pleasant smile of welcome, instead of a stern reproof, which always awaited the girl who went in late, unless she had a good reason for it.
So altogether, this last day was not an unpleasant one; and they were able to tell each other, when they came out at twelve o'clock, that they had answered fully four questions out of six.
"I think we have done very well to-day," said Elsie, "and I am so glad you came, dear, for governess would have been vexed, I know, if we had given up in the middle of it, even though we may not have been successful."
"I don't think I shall pass, but I think you will, Elsie," said her friend; and it would be hard to say how many times this was repeated during the next fortnight.
It seemed to the two girls most interested, the longest fortnight they had ever passed.
Each day, when they went to school, they looked eagerly into their teacher's face, hoping to hear her say once more, "Elsie Winn and Mary Nicholls, you are wanted!" Just as she had called them out of the class once before.
But the days went on in the usual order, and nothing came to break in upon the usual course of lessons, which they had taken up again, exactly as though nothing had happened, and that they were not scholarship girls who had earned for themselves a little distinction at least.
But one morning, when they went to school, their governess met them with a beaming smile, and said, "I must congratulate both you scholarship girls; although I am sorry to say there is only one scholarship to spare, and of course you cannot both have it; but you are both so nearly equal, that if anything should happen to make Elsie wish to give up the scholarship, then Mary would have the right to take it."
"Am I first?" asked Elsie.
"You are six marks above Mary; and you two are the last on the list; but, as there are only five scholarships awarded this year, there cannot be very much difference between first and last. Between you two there is only the difference of six marks; so that I am very pleased with both of you, and only wish there was a scholarship for each of you, as you both so equally deserve it."
Thus the matter was settled, for the present at least; and everybody congratulated Elsie, though it must be confessed, she would have enjoyed her triumph a great deal more if Mary had not been disappointed. For, since the examination, she had confided to one or two of the girls that she had answered more questions than Elsie—they having compared notes in this matter—and Mary had come to the conclusion that she had done best after all.
Both the girls were impatient for twelve o'clock to come, that they might run home and tell the news. And when at last they were free, they rushed off, though Mary felt she had a little grievance that she was not the one chosen.
But her mother was a wise woman, and did not encourage her to think that she had been unfairly treated. "You know you said when you came home from the examination, that if it had not been for Elsie, you would not have waited until it was over before giving up; and so it is only fair that Elsie should have the scholarship."
Mrs. Winn was, of course, very pleased to hear that her little daughter had been successful; but she could not enter into her child's joy as she would have wished, for she was so anxious about her husband's health. He had never quite got over a cold he had caught in the early spring; and the doctor had told them that there very grave symptoms in his case that would need care.
Elsie did not know anything about this; for her mother thought the examination, and the anxiety attending it, were quite enough for her to bear. And so the poor girl was ill prepared for the news that awaited her when she reached home in the afternoon.
She had looked forward to telling her father of her success when he came back in the evening. But, when she reached home soon after four, she found the doctor's carriage waiting outside the door. And when she went in, she found a neighbour sitting with the younger children downstairs, trying to keep them quiet.
"I am glad you have come home, Elsie! For I can't manage to keep baby quiet," said this friend.
"Why, what is the matter?" asked Elsie, looking round the room to make sure that tiresome little Bobby, who was so fond of playing with the fire, was not missing. She felt relieved by the sight of Bobby's merry face, and said again, "What is the matter Mrs. Morris?"
"Your father has been brought home from London, and he is very ill indeed. You will keep the children quiet while I go upstairs and see if I can do anything to help your mother."
Elsie took the baby, and sat down with him. She did not feel very much alarmed about her father. He had been brought home ill before, and soon got well again; and she had enough to occupy her mind in thinking about the scholarship, and how soon she would be able to go to the grammar school.
As soon as baby would let her, she seated him on the floor, and began to get the tea ready, as her father would be glad of a cup of tea when the doctor had gone—he always enjoyed a cup of tea so much. She set the kitchen door open, that she might hear the doctor go away; and then she would make the tea, and carry a cup upstairs for her father, and tell him that she had won the scholarship, and that would cheer him, she felt sure.
The doctor was a long time upstairs, she thought; but at last she heard him coming down. And she heard her mother speak when they got to the foot of the stairs; and she could tell her mother had been crying, by the tone of her voice.
"Keep him as quiet as possible, Mrs. Winn," said the doctor; "but I do not think it will be more than a week."
And then the door closed, and her mother ran upstairs again, without coming into the kitchen to see her and the children. And Elsie grew vaguely uneasy as she thought of the doctor's words—"I do not think it will be more than a week."
Surely he must mean that her father would not be ill more than "a week." And yet, as Elsie repeated these words to herself half aloud, that same creeping fear seemed to come over her again. And she resolved to take a cup of tea upstairs for her father, and then she would be able to see whether he looked worse than he did when he had been taken ill before.
So she made the tea, and a tiny square of toast, and then poured out a cup and put it on a tray, and carried it upstairs and tapped at the bedroom door.
"I have brought this for daddy," she said in a whisper, when Mrs. Morris opened the door a little way.
The friend took the tea. "It will do nicely for your mother," she said, "but your father cannot take tea now."
She did not wait for Elsie to ask the question she wished, but shut the door again, and Elsie went downstairs. And, after waiting some time and finding her mother did not come, she gave the younger children their tea, and then undressed baby ready to go to bed.
Even Tom, her brother, who was only a year or two younger than herself, appeared touched by the strange silence that seemed to have settled down upon the house.
"Why don't you talk, Elsie?" he said at last in an impatient tone.
"Daddy must be kept quiet," she said, "and I don't want Bobby to shout and scream, as he does sometimes when he is at play."
More than an hour passed before Mrs. Winn came downstairs.
And then Tom began instantly, "What is the matter with daddy, mother?—Here is Elsie looking as miserable as ever she can be."
"No; I have only been keeping the children quiet!"
Her mother put an arm round both of them, and kissed them both in turn. "You must both help me to bear this," she whispered; "daddy is very ill, and—"
"Have you told him about Elsie's scholarship?" said Tom, who was very proud of his sister's success, though he might tease and quarrel with her sometimes.
"No, dear; he cannot listen to anything like that just now," said his mother.
Tom looked disappointed. "I believe if you were to tell him, mother, it would just rouse him up and put new life into him," said the boy.
But Mrs. Winn only shook her head; and Elsie noticed that her eyes were full of tears again, as she poured out a cup of tea for Mrs. Morris, which she carried upstairs with her; and told Elsie to put the children to bed as quietly as she could, when they began to get tired and sleepy.
Tom got out his lessons, and settled himself at the corner of the table, without grumbling that he could not have the whole of it. And the same dreary quiet settled down upon them that their mother had slightly broken.
THE MASTER'S PROPOSAL.
A DAY or two after Elsie took home the news of her success, her brother Tom was called to the master's desk at school. "I suppose you are very pleased, Winn, that your sister has won a scholarship?" said the master, looking the boy over as he spoke.
"Yes, sir," answered Tom with a smile; but wondering what was coming.
He was not kept long in doubt. "We are all very proud that one of our girls has carried off this scholarship, and I mean the boys shall have a try next year,—we mustn't let the girls beat us. Do you understand, Winn? I want you to get one of these scholarships, as well as your sister. It would please your mother and father, I know; but of course you must work hard for it, as your sister did. As there is nothing like beginning in good time—for a thing of that sort—I am going to start a scholarship class after school hours next week, and I should like you and half a dozen other sixth standard boys to join it—if your parents would like this. Do you understand, Winn, my boy?—There will be nothing extra to pay, tell your father."
"Yes, sir; I'll tell mother when I go home. Father isn't well, and can't be bothered about things just now." And, with a bow, Tom went back to his class, leaving the master somewhat puzzled as to whether his proposal was welcome to the boy or not.
To his school-fellows, Tom said nothing of what he had been told by the master, for he could not make up his mind whether to be pleased or not. But when he got home, he sat down to his tea sullen and silent. And Elsie, of course, who was serving the children while her mother was upstairs, soon noticed it.
"What is the matter, Tom? Couldn't you get on with your lessons to-day?" asked his sister.
This reference to his lessons seemed to turn the scale. "What does it matter to you about my lessons?" he said, in a grumbling tone. "I wish I had never heard of your blessed lessons and scholarship; for now I shall never have a minute to myself. There'll be no time for play, no time for—"
"Why, Tom, what has happened,—what do you mean?" asked his sister in some concern.
"What did you want to go and get that scholarship for? It's just sent the whole school scholarship mad, and Potter's as bad as anybody now!"
"What do you mean?" asked Elsie, thinking her brother would burst into a merry laugh the next minute, and tell her of some further congratulations he had received on her success.
But Tom only glared as she looked smilingly at him, in anticipation of more pleasant words. "I tell you this; I won't do it for any of them!" he burst out at last. "And they may say what they like, and so may you."
"Won't do what?" inquired Elsie, feeling greatly puzzled.
"Why, I'm not going to swat up for a scholarship, like you did, to please anybody."
"O Tom, would you have a chance of getting one, do you think?" said Elsie earnestly. "Would Mr. Potter help you? There are scholarships for boys, you know, as well as for girls," she went on; "and mother would be so pleased if you got one too."
"Oh, I'll please mother and father too, never fear; but it won't be by getting a scholarship," grunted Tom. "I'm not going to worry my life out, morning, noon, and night, over that, when I ought to be at play. One in a family is enough, I reckon."
"Oh, Tom, I do wish you would try," said Elsie; "everybody says you are clever."
"That's all you know about it, Madam Elsie. Mr. Potter told me to-day that I was dropping behind with my arithmetic, and must join his class at once if I wanted to stand a chance."
"And you will, Tom, won't you?" pleaded his sister; "father and mother would be so pleased, you know, only they can't be bothered about it just now,—at least, father mustn't be worried. Mother might tell you what she thinks you ought to do."
Tom grunted out something about Elsie minding her own business, and leaving him to mind his, but she was all eagerness that her brother should share her pleasure and success; and so, when she took the children up to bed, and her mother came to kiss them, she told her what she and Tom had been talking about.
"Of course, he is pleased at the idea of joining this class," said Mrs. Winn.
"I daresay he would be pleased, if he knew you wished it, mother," whispered Elsie.
"I'll speak to him about it. If he could join this class, it might take him away from that John Bond he is so fond of, for I don't like him as a companion for Tom, since I feel sure he makes him worse than he would be, for getting into mischief."
So when Tom went to say good-night an hour later, his mother whispered, "You will join Mr. Potter's class, I hope, my boy, for your father would wish it, I am sure, if we could talk to him about it."
"Very well, mother," said Tom, not liking to make any objection just now, but half wishing he had not told Elsie a word about the matter.
On his way to school the next morning, he met his chosen friend John Bond a few yards from his own door. This lad was nearly a head taller than Tom, a big loutish fellow, who lorded it over his companions whenever he could, on the score of his size, and to him Tom confided his grievance of having to join the scholarship class.
"Potter never told me about this class," he said, as though the master had committed some offence in not consulting his biggest scholar on the matter. "I wonder why I am not asked as well as you and the other fellows," he went on. "I'm in the sixth too; why shouldn't he ask me?" he demanded.
Tom laughed. "You're likely to stop in the sixth, Jack, while you play such pranks, and make the teacher's life a misery to him. I don't believe Potter would cry his eyes out if he never saw your face in the school again," he said.
"What's the matter with my face?" asked the boy, and he turned to Tom with such a droll expression—rolling his eyes, and twisting his mouth about—that Tom exploded with laughter, as he had frequently done before, over his companion's queer grimaces.
"You'd be a nice help to a class that was swatting, wouldn't you?" said Tom, when he could speak.
"Why shouldn't I help if I like?" said John, with another grimace. Then growing more serious, he said, "They won't ask me to come to this precious class, because I live in Sadler Street."
"Oh, nonsense!" exclaimed Tom. "Potter's a beast over some things, but he's a just beast, and he wouldn't keep you out of anything if he thought you could get it, because you live in Sadler Street."
"Wouldn't he, though," grumbled Jack. "You'll see not a fellow that lives in our street will be asked."
Tom was silent for a minute or two, for it had suddenly occurred to him that most of the boys that came from Sadler Street were an untidy, unruly lot of lads, giving the teachers far more trouble than other boys. So that it might be true as Bond said, that no Sadler Street boys would be asked to join this class, though not from the cause he stated.
"You'll see we shall all be shut out, every mother's son of us that lives in Sadler Street," said Bond, again referring to his grievance.
"Well, you know, people don't like the street; it hasn't a good name in the school," said Tom, not liking to hurt his friend's feelings by telling him all the thoughts that had occurred to him upon the matter.
"Ah, and 'give a dog a bad name, you may as well hang him at once.' But now, about this precious class. Why do you want to join it, if you don't mean to go to a desk and drive a pen all day?" demanded Jack.
"I don't know. I haven't told my mother that I should like to be a gardener, and watch the flowers grow; but I mean to tell her all about it when father gets better, and then he, and mother too, will see that it's no good for me to go to this stupid old class."
"So you do mean to join it, then?" said the other, pretending to be very much surprised.
"Well, you see, I must for a little while, as mother is so worried about dad being ill, that it would only make things worse, if I kicked up a fuss and said I didn't want to go. You see, they've all gone so stark staring mad over my sister Elsie's scholarship, both at school and at home, that one would think all our lives depended upon it, so I must join this class for a bit, though I'm not going to swat much, I can tell you. Potter says that I am behind with my arithmetic, and must work hard at that. I'd like to catch myself at it! I wouldn't do home lessons, if I could help it," added Tom.
"I never did," laughed Bond; "my father said I could do as I liked about it, and I didn't like. Why shouldn't we spell taters with a 't' as well as a 'p,' I'd like to know? It did well enough for our grandfathers, why shouldn't it do for their children? I've heard my dad say that many a time, and I'm not going to worry myself about 'p's' and 't's' so long as I get the taters. They need not ask me to join any of their classes, for I wouldn't do it now, if they went down on their knees and begged me to go."
"They won't do that, Jack; they won't trouble you with William the Conqueror, or who rode through the streets of Coventry with her hair down her back."
"All right! They can leave me alone, but I'm not going to promise to leave all their precious class alone. We were chums before they ever dreamt of having a class, and I'll take blessed good care that it don't spoil all our fun, Tom," and he winked and nodded in a knowing fashion that set Tom laughing again.
But the laugh was cut short this time by the sudden ceasing of the clang, clang, of the school bell, and both boys set of to run the remaining distance at the top of their speed. For they would be marked late if they were not in their places by the time the other lads were seated, so that there was no time for further talk just now.
Soon after the ordinary school work began, the master came to take the names of those boys whose parents wished them to join the scholarship class.
"What did your father say about it, Winn?" he asked, pausing in front of Tom.
"If you please, sir, father is ill; but mother would like me to join, and she will speak to father about it when he gets better," answered Tom.
"Very well, I will put your name down, my boy; but you must take care to work a little more, and laugh a little less in school time, and attend the class regularly, as well as doing all the tasks set you."
"Please, sir, I don't want to be a clerk, and sit at a desk all day," said Tom, scarcely knowing how he had mustered courage to say so.
"Very well, you are not obliged to be a clerk; only win a scholarship and you may have a chance by-and-bye of learning something you would like as an occupation. Give all your attention to the lessons that are taught, and you will stand as good a chance of winning a scholarship as any boy in the school," concluded the schoolmaster.
But Tom was not pleased at the outlook before him. He glanced across to his friend Jack Bond, who nodded and winked as only Jack could, and nearly set Tom laughing in spite of the presence of the head-master as well as the class teacher.
They, however, escaped detection, and Tom tried to give some attention to his lessons for the next hour or two, so that his teacher whispered a word of commendation as he passed out.
But after school, when he met Jack Bond in the playground, and the two were free to talk over the events of the morning, Bond did his best to try and set Tom against working steadily in the new class, even if he was compelled to attend it.
"It's all very well for girls to try for scholarships, but why should a fellow like you have to do it?" he urged. "It's fit for girls, of course, but why should you be expected to put your neck into this noose just because your sister liked it? Gals is gals, and boys is boys, and if it isn't good for gals to wear a coat and trousers, why, it isn't good for a fellow like you to wear a gal's frock instead of your own clothes. That's just what it comes to," concluded the young giant, in a tone of authority.
Tom laughed, and professed to treat the talk as a joke; but he went home feeling uncomfortable, and was snappish and out of temper, for when Elsie opened the door and asked him in a whisper if he had got his name put down, he pushed her aside, exclaiming, "There, don't you bother about what, don't concern you! I shan't tell you anything again, if you're going to run off to mother with it directly."
"What have I told mother?" asked his sister in surprise, for Tom often confided in Elsie when he had got into a scrape at school, or wanted a little service done to help forward some of his plans. "What have I told mother about you?" she demanded again.
"Why, there was no occasion for you to run and tell her about that class, as you did," said Tom in an injured tone.
"Well, but that didn't matter, Tom; you were going to tell her yourself before you went to bed. I thought you might not get a chance when you went up, and so I told her, that she might have time to think about it, and tell you at once when you spoke to her," said Elsie in an altered tone.
"Well, don't go chattering about my business again," said Tom, crossly.
But he soon forgot his ill humour when he heard that Elsie had made his favourite pudding for dinner, in honour of the news he had brought home the previous day; and with his mouth full of this sweet delicacy, he forgot what he had said when he first came in, and told her Mr. Potter had arranged that the class should be commenced the following Tuesday. It was to be held from six to seven, in their own class-room, and eight boys besides himself had given in their names to join it.
"I hope that Jack Bond isn't one of them," said Elsie, in an uncautious moment.
"Why not? The Bonds are as good as we are, any day." said Tom.
"Well, perhaps they are; but mother says—" and then Elsie remembered that her mother had said she had better not mention Bond's name to Tom, as it might do more harm than good, if she attempted to interfere with the boys.
"Now, then, out with it! What had mother got to say about Jack, I should like to know? Just because Sadler Street isn't one of the most fashionable places in the town, everybody is down on poor Jack, and that is why I always take his part."
Elsie thought she had better occupy herself with the children and their dinner, and not notice what Tom said, for fear it should lead to a quarrel—for Tom was quarrelsome very often—and she had a hasty temper. But nothing of the kind must be allowed to take place now that her father was so ill, and peace and quietness was so necessary in the house.
Tom grumbled on, and Elsie busied herself with little Bobbie and his pudding, so that there was no breach of the peace at the dinner table. Before he took his cap to go back to school, Tom asked her to sew up a rent in his trousers when he came home, which she readily promised to do, as a peace-offering for having spoken against his chosen friend.
She did not, however, forget that the following Tuesday was to be the first meeting of the class. And when five o'clock struck, and Tom had not come home to tea, she began to grow anxious, for, from various hints he had dropped, she feared he was not so anxious as he ought to be to profit by this extra class.
Half-past five came, and then Tom rushed in, hot and out of breath. "Give us some tea, quick!" he said, as Elsie opened the door. "I shall be late for that blessed class if I don't look-out, and then Potter will have a fit."
"Oh, Tom, how is it you are so late?" said Elsie, in a reproachful tone. "I had your tea ready by five o'clock, for I thought you would be sure to be home, that you might have time to wash yourself before you go back."
"Oh, yes, I shouldn't wonder! What do girls know about things? It's a jolly shame to have to give up just the only time I can be out to play, for this stupid old class. Why, the tea is cold!" he exclaimed in disgust, pushing away his cup.
"Perhaps it is. I got it ready early to-day that you might have time to get it comfortably before you went back to school; but you are more than half an hour late."
"Suppose I am," said Tom, speaking with his mouth full of bread and butter; but he did not seem disposed to hurry himself, although Elsie was impatient to help him to get off, that he might not be late for the class.
He went at last, and his sister hoped if he ran all the way he might reach the school by six o'clock.
But these small worries about Tom and his concerns Elsie kept to herself, for she could see as the days went on, that her mother grew more anxious about her father. For, although she knew he was dangerously ill, she did not fully understand the extent of the danger, and no one thought it wise to tell her just then.
A BRAVE RESOLUTION.
MR. WINN lingered for nearly a month. There were intervals during this time when he rallied sufficiently to give some hope to his anxious wife that he might yet recover, and be spared to them for a few years longer at least.
During one of these intervals, he was able to listen while Elsie told him that she had won the scholarship, and that Tom was going to try for one next year.
He fully approved of Tom going to the preparatory class for this. For, as he remarked to his wife, if he should fail to win a scholarship that would enable him to go to a better school for a year or two longer, the additional knowledge he would gain from attending this preparatory class would be sure to prove useful to him, if he should have to leave school earlier, and begin the business of life for himself in earnest.
He also spoke to Tom about this, and the boy promised to be diligent, and give his teachers as little trouble as possible, as they were so willing to help him forward in his school work.
But as the days went on, these intervals of comparative ease grew less, and there were days when the invalid could not say a word to his children, and was scarcely able to gasp out what he needed to say to his wife. The doctor knew that, although his life was prolonged beyond the time he had thought possible when he first saw him, that the end could not be far off, and he did what he could to prepare Mrs. Winn for what he knew was approaching.
But although she was thus warned, the blow fell at last with a terrible shock, both to mother and children, and they were all for a time overwhelmed with grief and dismay.
How the rest of that dreadful week passed in Elsie's home she never quite knew, or whether she ever thought that the death of her father would make such a difference in her future.
Until after the funeral, no word was said about any change in their mode of life; but one day, when this was all over, she said,—
"Mother, shall I be able to go to school next week?"
Her mother looked at her for a moment, and then the tears slowly filled her eyes.
"My poor Elsie," she said, "I am afraid our loss will fall very heavily upon you."
"But, mother, it will not cost us anything for me to go to the grammar school," said Elsie, looking a little frightened.
"My dear, we must have a little talk together, you and I. You know, dear, that now father has gone, I must work and keep the little ones."
"You, mother? What can you do?" asked Elsie, opening her eyes with something like wonder and alarm.
"Only one thing, dear. I have learned to make the children's frocks and your dresses very well; and I must earn some money by doing dressmaking for other people."
"But who will take care of Bobbie and baby?" asked Elsie.
"That is what I am coming to, dear; and it is a question you must decide. With your help to manage the house and the children, I think I could keep home, and all of us can live together; but without your help, I cannot do it. Baby would not be happy with a stranger; and I could not expect another girl to be so careful of things, so that there is no waste, as my own little daughter."
"And, oh mother! You want me to give up the scholarship, and not go to school any more!" exclaimed poor Elsie, bursting into tears, and throwing herself into her mother's arms, as if her heart would break.
"My poor Elsie! My poor darling! It is hard I know, dear," said the mother, tenderly stroking the girl's hair, and kissing her, while her own tears fell like rain. Mrs. Winn had dreaded telling Elsie this bitter truth,—that she could not afford to let her go to the grammar school, even with the scholarship; but she did not think she would feel it so bitterly as this.
At last Elsie grew more quiet, and then she whispered, "Tell me everything, please; I will try to be a good girl, for dear daddy's sake."
"Yes, yes, I know you will, my darling; and I have tried to think of a plan that would save you from this disappointment. But there seems no other way, dear, but for you to help me at home. For I should not like to send either of the little ones away to an orphan school if I could help it. They are very good schools, I daresay, but I want to keep you all together if I can. Almost the last thing daddy said was, 'You'll keep the children all together.'"
"Yes, mother, you shall; and I will help you," said Elsie, in a choking voice. "I will take care of the house, and Bobbie and baby, so that you can work."
"God bless you! my dear," said her mother. "You have lifted a great weight from my mind; and I believe I can do as daddy wished now. It is hard for you, my dear; but I will contrive that you have some time for reading, for I know how anxious you are to learn."
"Thank you, mother," was all Elsie could say; for although she had made up her mind what she ought to do, and what she would do, it was none the less hard, and she was glad to run up to her own room, and cry out her trouble there.
When she came down, she had bathed her face and tried to smile, but Bobbie looked up at her and said, "Elsie ki!"
"Bobbie, go and fetch that stick for baby," said his mother; for she could see Elsie was having a hard battle with herself.
The next day she went and told her governess that Mary must have the scholarship, now that her father was dead.
"I am very sorry, my dear; very sorry indeed; but I saw your mother one day last week, and I think you are quite right in what you have decided to do."
"I did so wish to go to the grammar school," said Elsie, the tears shining in her eyes as she spoke.
"Yes, dear, and I should have been very glad if you could have gone; but you know the object Of all education is not merely cramming the memory with facts of history, or rules of grammar, but the building up of character. And so, in learning self-control and self-forgetfulness (as you must do in helping your mother), you will, I am sure, be learning lessons as valuable as any that could be taught at the grammar school. And for the mere facts of history, and rules of grammar, you may be able to make up for their loss by your own reading. I have heard this morning, that we are likely to have an evening continuation school for girls here this winter; and so, perhaps, your mother might be able to spare you to come to that; and if she can, I will take care that you are placed in a suitable class."
"Thank you," said Elsie. But it was said rather drearily, for nothing could make up for the loss of what she should have learned at the girl's grammar school, Elsie thought.
It having been settled before that Elsie was to have the scholarship, there were letters to write, and explanations to be given, as to why the change was made in the scholarship girls, before Mary could feel certain that she was to have it.
Of course she was glad of the chance—doubly glad that she had taken Elsie's advice and gone through with the examination, instead of giving it up at the first difficulty. If she had not done this, it would, of course, have gone to another girl, and another school.
Elsie's friends all felt sorry for her. But she could not stay to talk to them this morning, for she was wanted at home to mind the baby, while her mother went out on business.
Of course, some blamed Mrs. Winn, and Elsie too. But in trying to do the duty that lay nearest them, they were undoubtedly right; and they had the satisfaction of knowing this, and also that they were trying to carry out the last wishes of the dear one, who had so lately been taken from his work here below.
Mrs. Winn made it known among friends and neighbours, that she was prepared to make either ladies' or children's dresses, in the latest fashion. And to ensure success, she herself went to take lessons in the best method of cutting and fitting.
They were not absolutely penniless. Her husband had made some provision for his family; but it was necessary that they should be very careful in their expenditure, for Mrs. Winn could hardly expect to get much work just at first.
But the story of Elsie's scholarship had got abroad, and people said that mother and daughter were alike brave in striving to help themselves and each other; and work began to come in faster than the widow had dared to hope—so fast, indeed, that she soon had as much as she could do. And when Elsie's school-fellow, Jane Holmes, came to see her, and asked if she could be taken as an apprentice, Mrs. Winn felt quite glad of the offer.
It had not occurred to her to try and get an apprentice. But when this offer was made, she thought she could but try how the plan would answer, and so she asked Mrs. Holmes to call and see her about the matter.
"I think Jane would do more for you, Mrs. Winn, than she would for anybody else, because she feels so sorry for Elsie in her disappointment," said Mrs. Holmes, when the two had talked over the business. "I am afraid she is not very quick with her needle just now, but she knows it is quite hopeless for her to think of getting a scholarship, or even being a governess, by-and-bye; and, as she must learn to do something for her living, she hopes you will give her a trial."
This Mrs. Winn was quite willing to do. And so Jane came and took her place in Mrs. Winn's work-room, while Elsie scrubbed, and cooked, and swept, and dusted, and took care of the children; and her life was much happier than she thought it would be.
Having decided the question about the scholarship, she took up her work in the house with real interest, trying how well she could do this, how much trouble she could save her mother in that, and what expense could be spared in the other.
She soon learned to know that it is not money, it is not pleasure, that gives happiness, but the interest that life affords, that gives it its real value and zest.
Sorely did they miss the loving father; but they could not afford to sit down and indulge in useless repinings. Life had too much for them to do to sit down and shed useless tears. And so Elsie and her mother found themselves happy, though they were not always free from care and anxiety.
In this way several months passed. Mrs. Winn had as much work as she could get through. And, though it was sometimes difficult, with all the care and economy, to make ends meet without breaking into the little capital that was put away; still it was done somehow, and the little ones were not allowed to feel the loss of their father where mother and sister could help them.
Then one day Tom came home from school, rather later than usual, bruised and dirty, and with several rents in his jacket.
"Where have you been, Tom?" exclaimed Elsie, when she saw what a plight he was in.
"Oh, don't bother," said her brother, pushing her aside; "I don't want girls worrying about me," he added, as he rushed into the scullery to wash his face, and remove the traces of the fray in which he had been engaged, before his mother should see him.