CHAPTER II.

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.