A Musical Scholarship
The Spring Term at St. Cyprian's was a stormy one in several respects. The weather during the end of January and beginning of February was atrocious, and resulted for Miss Cartwright in a touch of pneumonia, which laid her aside for a while from her work. The College without its Principal was like a sheepfold without a shepherd; and though the teachers did their best, everybody felt the lack of the strong guiding hand that was accustomed to hold the reins. No sooner was Miss Cartwright back at her post than several girls developed mumps, and a strict period of quarantine followed for any companions who had been in their vicinity—an unexpected holiday which their parents deplored, and they themselves scarcely appreciated, as they were barred from all social intercourse until the due number of days had expired. Owing to this misfortune, and to a scare of measles at Newington Green, all Alliance matches and functions were postponed till the various schools could show clean bills of health, and even the making of charity garments was for the time prohibited.
The girls missed the Alliance meetings dreadfully. They had scarcely realized until now what an intense interest the League supplied, and how extremely flat the term felt without the pleasant competition of the other schools. They were constantly wondering how Templeton's hockey was progressing; if the new photographic club at Marston Grove had held its first exhibition; whether the Anglo-German had really taken up painting on satin; and how the High School Nature Study Union prospered.
"I believe we were fearfully narrow before, only we didn't know it," said Bess Harrison. "When the Alliance was first suggested, I'm sure we all thought it would be just an easy walk-over for St. Cyprian's in everything."
"We jolly soon found out our mistake!" murmured Kitty Fletcher, who was still smarting over a hockey match in which Newington Green had triumphed. "The Coll. has to look after herself, or take a back seat."
"Somehow it seems uncommonly tame without the others to spur us on," admitted Maudie Stearne.
"Isn't there anything we could do just to liven ourselves up till all these microbes have taken their departure, and we're once more labelled 'safe to meet'? Something, if possible, that the other schools won't have thought of, so that we can surprise them after Easter?"
"Well, of course if you're prepared to go in for prize-fighting or fortune-telling, or the making of artificial wax flowers, you might find an untrodden path, but I think most things have been pretty well exploited already."
"It must be lovely to go out as a missionary to the Cannibal Islands!" sighed Sheila Moore. "Just think of finding people who've never heard, say, of the Tango, and being able to show them how!"
"They'd soon tango you into their biggest fish kettle, you goose, and dance their original war steps while digesting you! A nice appetizing little morsel you'd be, I expect! Just like tender roast pork!"
"Pig yourself!" retorted Sheila.
"All the same, to go back to my original plaint," urged Bess, "we're pretty well kept within the bounds of our own Coll. this term, so why not do something on our own—something unique?"
"And I return to my original reply, that there isn't a solitary art or handicraft left unappropriated by the other schools," grunted Maudie.
"If we can't do something unique, let's do something commonplace," suggested Eve Mitchell.
"Why shouldn't we sew?" propounded Mildred.
"My sweet innocent, you forget that the garments we fashioned might convey the microbes of mumps to the slums! All such charitable enterprises are for the moment off."
"I'm afraid I wasn't thinking of charity. I've got an idea—yes, I have really! The school ought to own a banner. I thought at the Arts Show that it looked so ugly just to have a large card with 'St. Cyprian's College' hung up over our exhibits. It ought to be beautifully worked on silk or satin. Suppose we lead the way and make one? I expect the other schools would follow suit."
Mildred's idea appealed strongly to the girls. They considered that a banner would be a great acquisition to their College properties, and with Miss Cartwright's permission they determined to make one. Such a large and important piece of work naturally required much discussion and planning out. Designs were submitted by members of the Art class, and a select committee appointed to consider them. In the end they decided upon a white satin ground with an applique border of some conventional floral pattern. At the centre was to be a coat of arms with four quarterings, the British lion, the crowned unicorn that was the crest of the city of Kirkton, a group of iris, which they chose as the school flower, on the ground that signifying the rainbow it was emblematic of many virtues merged together, and in the last corner a lyre, showing their special bent towards the study of music. At the top "St. Cyprian's College" would appear in large letters, and at the bottom their motto: "Nulli Secundus". The border and the quarterings were to be worked separately in colours on pale-green satin, and appliquéd on after the lettering had been finished.
The border was so designed that it could be made in portions of about four inches square, each to be committed to different hands, and the quarterings also were to be done apart. By this division of labour more than thirty girls were able to help, and it was felt that the banner would be a united effort. By general vote Freda Kingston was given the lettering, and a small band of workers was chosen to stitch the various pieces together when finished.
"If any health inspectors think it likely to hold germs, we can have it disinfected," laughed Bess. "It's going to be absolutely gorgeous, and it's arousing such an amount of school patriotism in my breast that I'm prepared to brave any dangers and defend it to the last drop of my blood."
"I don't know whether I admire the ramping lion or the charging unicorn more. Ivy has given Mr. Leo such a beautifully savage and furious eye!" said Maudie.
"Apollo's lyre with its golden strings for me!" proclaimed Mildred. "Nina has made them so splendidly straight and taut, I'm sure they're in tune."
Naturally the construction of the banner was an affair of many weeks; but when it was at last completed it was really a very handsome object, and quite a work of art. It was placed on view in the lecture hall, and visited by crowds of admiring girls, after which it was put safely away in folds of tissue-paper, to be kept for some great occasion when it could do honour to St. Cyprian's.
"It will be a nice little surprise for the other schools when we trot it out at the next Alliance function!" exulted Bess.
"They'll be absolutely green with envy!" affirmed Ivy. "I prophesy they'll all try to go one better."
"Let them try, then! We shall have had first start, and they can't get over that, anyway."
"I expect it will end in all the schools joining in an Alliance banner."
"Then there'd be six quarterings, and that's not heraldic!"
"No, no, there'd be eight, because the British lion and the Kirkton unicorn would still have to come in, and each school could have its emblem or its flower."
"Right you are, my youthful Solomon!"
Like all other terms, the spring session came at last to an end. The sufferers from mumps and measles had returned to their respective schools duly armed with doctors' certificates, quarantine was over, and after the interval of the Easter holidays the Alliance was able to meet again, and pursue its various avocations with renewed vigour. It had been a great source of regret to Kitty Fletcher, as head of the Games department, that St. Cyprian's had had no opportunity of wiping the stain off its reputation in regard to hockey. By next season she would have left the College, and could no longer "lead her hosts to battle as of yore". She impressed upon Edna Carson, who would succeed her in office, the mission of supremacy in the hockey field, urging her to spare no efforts to make the team realize its responsibilities. Meantime she turned her attention to cricket, determined to do the best for St. Cyprian's in the one term which remained to her.
As she had prophesied, Rhoda Somerville was a great source of strength, and promised to rival Joan Richards in batting. Under Kitty's careful tuition she improved immensely, and the captain began to regard her new pupil with much complacency. Edna Carson, of "hat-trick" fame, Daisy Holt, nicknamed "the Lobster", and Peggie Potter were well up to their last year's form, so there seemed reasonable hope that the College would win its due share of matches. At tennis, too, it was not behindhand. Lottie and Carrie Lowman had come to the fore, and proved the best champions that St. Cyprian's had yet had. Lottie had a more than usually good opportunity for practice this summer. She had been unwell in the spring, and the doctor had advised that she should not attempt to go in for the matriculation, as had been intended, recommending as much outdoor exercise as possible. She gleefully took him at his word, and, curtailing her hours of home preparation, played singles with her sister Carrie till both reached a pitch of excellence that caused Kitty to purr with delight. As Games delegate Kitty did not approve of any girl trying to sit on two stools. She had sternly discouraged Daisy Holt and Peggie Potter from, as she said, "wasting valuable time at the courts"; but as the reproach had been thrown at her that she encouraged cricket to the detriment of tennis, she was thankful that two such champions had arisen to give their whole-hearted attention to the latter without drawing from the team of the former.
Mildred formed one of the rank and file at games; she had not the skill to excel, nor could she spare the hours required for practice. Her violin required all her present energies; Professor Hoffmann was inexorable in his demands, and kept her rigidly up to the mark. Her music time-sheet was now a very different affair from the irregular register she had shown when this story began, and was indeed the best in the school, not excepting that of Elizabeth Chalmers, who had always been held up as a model for slack workers to emulate.
Laura Kirby was concentrating all her powers on studying for a Girton scholarship under Miss Cartwright's special coaching, so, beyond a little tennis for exercise, she was too busy to think of maintaining the physical reputation of the College, though there was a feeling among the girls that she would probably establish an intellectual record, and cover the school with glory.
"I never saw anyone swot like you, Laura," said Lottie Lowman at one of the monitresses' meetings. "You're going ahead like a house on fire, and if you're not established in your own diggings at Girton by next October, I shall say the examiners cheated."
"That remains to be seen," replied Laura rather wearily. "I'm not the only one who's swotting, you may depend upon it, and some people's brains may be more curly than mine. Oh, but I should like to go to Girton! I'd a cousin there, and she used to make me just wild with her accounts. She said it was the time of her life. I shan't be content till I've taken my tripos."
"What will you do then?"
"I don't know. I'm ambitious. I'd like to be principal of a college some day, or else go in for scientific research work. Don't laugh!"
"We're not laughing. Why shouldn't you realize your ambition? We'll see you come out top yet!"
"I don't hanker after college," said Lottie, "but I just love tennis above everything, and I'd like to be county champion. I'm afraid I've not much chance—Carrie's really better than I am—but that's my dream. What's yours, Freda?"
"Oh, to be a great artist, of course; either to paint animals, like Rosa Bonheur, or to go in for book illustration, and make a special line for myself, like Kate Greenaway. I'm to study at the School of Art as soon as I leave St. Cyprian's. It will be blissful to do nothing but paint all day."
"If I can only scrape through the Froebel exams. I'm going to be a Kindergarten teacher and Games mistress both together. There are good openings for anyone who can combine the two, and it would just suit me. I'd like to get a post at a big High School where there are hundreds and hundreds of girls, then wouldn't I just train them at cricket and hockey, and pick my teams carefully—rather!" said Kitty.
"How about the Kindergarten part of the business?"
"Oh, that would be all right! I'm fond of kiddies, and should be quite at home amongst them."
"It's a very sad thing, but I've no ambitions," acknowledged Bess; "and I don't believe Maudie has either, except to turn her hair up. Confess now, Maudie, that's the summit of your dreams."
"Well, I don't want to go to Girton at any rate," laughed Maudie, "or to study at the School of Art, or teach Kindergarten. I guess we all know Mildred's vocation."
"Rather! If she doesn't study music it will be a criminal offence against the College. We look to her to be the star of St. Cyprian's, and have her name painted in special gold letters on the board in the lecture hall. Do you hear, Mildred? You've got to distinguish yourself, or perish in the attempt!"
"Don't expect too much from me, please. Perhaps I shall go off, and disappoint you horribly. Lots of people have assured me that youthful prodigies generally turn into nonentities when they're older."
"The sour-hearted brutes!"
"Well, it isn't encouraging, certainly, to be told so. But I don't care a button! I shall just go on working for the sake of the music. I love that, quite independently of success or failure."
One day when Mildred went for her violin lesson she found Herr Hoffmann in quite a state of excitement. He had a piece of news to communicate, and he was evidently brimming over with it. He began to tell it to her immediately she came into the room. He had learned only the evening before that Mr. Steiniger, the German gentleman who for many years had been president both of the Freiburg Concerts and the College of Music, and was now Mayor of Kirkton, wished to celebrate his year of mayoralty by encouraging musical talent in the city. He therefore offered a scholarship, tenable for three years in the Berlin Conservatoire, to the best student on any instrument. The conditions were simple. The candidate must be under twenty-one years of age, and must have resided in Kirkton for a period of not less than seven years. Either sex was equally eligible, and no preference would be given to those who had studied at any special school of music. The examination was to be held at the beginning of July, and the decision of the judges was to be final.
"It is as if it had been made for you! Yes, made for you!" urged the Professor. "Hitherto the musical scholarships in the city have only been obtainable through the Freiburg College, but this is open to all! You are under the age, you have resided more than seven years in Kirkton—I ask, then, what hinders?"
"My own incompetence," protested Mildred. "All the clever students in the city will be going in for it. Why, it would never be given to a girl of hardly seventeen. The thing's impossible!"
"Age is no matter!" grunted Herr Hoffmann. "I do not often praise you, but you can play what many who are older dare not attempt. You shall try it? Yes? I go myself to see your good aunt, and persuade her. Have I not always said that you should study in Berlin? Kalovski is now teaching at the Conservatoire. Himmel! It is the opportunity of a lifetime! He is the one master to whom I would send you."
Herr Hoffmann lost no time in visiting Dr. and Mrs. Graham, and advising them to allow their niece to go in for the scholarship. After thinking the matter over for a few days they agreed. There seemed no objection to her trying, and if she failed no harm would be done. An hour's extra practice daily the Professor required, but that could be arranged with Miss Cartwright, who was willing to let Mildred's music take the first place in her education, and who, they knew, would encourage her to enter as a candidate. Mildred herself was almost appalled at the prospect, but it was settled for her by her elders, so she was obliged to fall in with their plans. After all, the Professor's enthusiasm was infectious, and though she might not share his sanguine hopes, she was at least willing to try her best.
The test piece for the examination was the "Valse Triste" by Sibelius, and she set to work at once to wrestle with it. It was a composition that it would tax the powers of a first-rate concert player to render adequately, so she had no light task before her. Herr Hoffmann, in his anxiety for her to excel, alternately cajoled and raved, so that her lessons were a series of sunshine and storm. By this time, however, she knew her master's idiosyncrasies, and neither his impatience nor his bursts of temper could put her out. She had discovered what a kind heart he held under his rough manner, and was well aware that he spent an amount of time and trouble over her which was altogether above and beyond what could be expected by even the most exacting of pupils. So she worked away, trying to do justice to his tuition, but viewing it almost as a piece of presumption on her part to attempt the examination.
The weeks passed along quickly—too rapidly for the amount Mildred wished to do in them—and the beginning of July drew near. The candidates were to be examined in one of the smaller rooms at the Town Hall, the judges being Monsieur Diegeryck, a well-known Belgian violinist, Monsieur Stenovitch, a Russian pianist, and Mr. Steiniger himself.
"I shall fail, Tantie—I know I shall!" declared Mildred. "It's ridiculous my going in at all! I only do it to please you and the Professor. You wouldn't be satisfied if I didn't try. I only hope the judges won't crush me too utterly, and tell me it's wasting their time to listen to me. No, I'm not even nervous, because I feel the chance is too remote. If I'd greater expectations I should mind far more; as it is, I shall just play my piece in the best fashion I can, and accept any snubbing that's offered me afterwards. I've got to the point where I simply don't care."
"Then by all means let us leave it at that," said Mrs. Graham, who, after previous experiences of Mildred's apprehensions, had no wish to rouse fresh fears.
On the 4th of July, therefore, Mildred, fortified by the Professor's very latest instructions and directions, presented herself and her Stradivarius at the Town Hall at the time which had been appointed for her. She had to wait a few minutes while a piano student finished playing, but her turn came next, and she was very soon ushered into the examination room. She looked round eagerly. A Bechstein grand piano stood open, after the last candidate's ordeal, and Signor Marziani, one of the teachers at the Freiburg College, who was to play the accompaniments to the stringed instruments, was in the act of closing the top. Mildred had been very anxious to know who was to accompany her, and was rejoiced to find that it would be Signor Marziani, for she knew from Herr Hoffmann's accounts that he had a sympathetic touch, and was far more skilful at his task than Mr. Joynson, who shared the duty with him at most musical examinations in Kirkton. She glanced hurriedly at her three judges. Mr. Steiniger she had seen before—a pleasant, brown-bearded little man with kindly blue eyes; but the two others were strangers. Monsieur Diegeryck was a typical Belgian—big and fair and stout, with a bland smile that seemed to seek to reassure her; Monsieur Stenovitch, on the contrary, was thin and dark, with long hair and bushy eyebrows, under which a pair of keen eyes surveyed her with an almost cynical expression of criticism. All three had pencils and paper, and appeared to have been comparing notes on their reports of the performance of the last candidate. They composed themselves to listen, and Signor Marziani struck a few preliminary chords on the piano.
"Now for it!" thought Mildred. "Well! They can't do more than pluck me, and I'm quite prepared for it."
For perhaps the first time in her life she did not feel nervous before an audience of strangers. She played exactly as if she were having a lesson from the Professor, or practising in her bedroom at Meredith Terrace. She was surprised at her own confidence, and went through the Valse Triste so easily that it was over almost before she realized what she was doing. The judges looked at one another, but made no remarks. Each scribbled rapidly for a moment, then they told her that she might go, and bowed her politely from the room.
"How did you get on?" asked a student who was waiting outside.
"I haven't the least idea. They said nothing, but I expect I've failed. I can't flatter myself they looked encouraging. I'm only thankful they didn't squash me quite flat."
It would be a day or two before the result of the examination was made known, and Mildred waited, not exactly in suspense, for she was so sure of failure, but with the feeling that she would be glad to get the bad news over and done with. She minded the Professor's disappointment more than her own, for he had been the keener on the event.
On the Tuesday following, as she was sitting at drawing in the studio, she received a summons to the Principal's study, and, entering, found Miss Cartwright and Herr Hoffmann in animated conversation.
"Mildred, my dear child, we have to congratulate you!" began the headmistress smilingly.
"Did I not tell you, Freundchen, it was the chance of a lifetime?" beamed the Professor. "Hein! You shall see the letter for yourself."
"I—I—surely—is it true?" gasped Mildred, as she read the short but businesslike communication. "I can't believe it. Oh, have I really and truly and actually won the scholarship?"