“Miss Boyd is an excellent scholar,” said Miss Vincent.
“If she couldn’t learn something higher she might as well stay on the lower rounds,” sneered some one. “They relegate these things better in England. A housemaid’s daughter is generally a housemaid.”
“I think I have heard of people coming up from the ranks in favored England,” was the dry rejoinder.
“Oh, let’s let her alone. She’ll make her way with that high head of hers. Perhaps she will be President of some college yet.”
Then they went back to fun. At nine Miss Arran came in and dismissed them.
Zay was thinking how solitary the girl must be. Oh, if her mother were not the general mender! Even if she were a sort of charity scholar! And she was going to have such a splendid Christmas. Her dear, beloved mother able to get about by herself, and all the rest of their lives to be such friends, to go abroad together, to visit picture galleries, points of interest and compare notes. For Mrs. Crawford had been finely educated and even the prospect of being an invalid for life had not made her relax her hold on intellectuality. She had been a delightful friend to her boys and they were proud enough of her, but Zay would always be her supreme darling.
Some of the last exercises and conditions were marked off the next day. Madame Eustice and two of the girls went home. A box came for Miss Nevins and the girls thronged around at her invitation while Nat drew out the nails that had fastened it securely, and lifted out a lighter box.
“That’s from Madame I know, and I have frocks enough here for winter. Oh, that’s a splendid fruit cake, and nuts and that’s candied orange and a box of fruit, and this is some sort of jewelry.”
She tore off the wrapping eagerly. A long lapis lazuli chain with a beautiful pendant and links of exquisite color, and a pair of bracelets to match.