Helen Dartmoor walked with prim, small steps. She had a little three-cornered shawl on her shoulders, and an old-fashioned bonnet was tied under her chin. Her perfectly cold, serene face glanced now and then at Kitty.
"You are not improved, Catherine," she said.
"Why do you say that?" replied Kitty.
"You look anxious and excitable. I dislike a woman showing any emotion. Of course, you are only a child yet, but I trust if I have the care of you, which I fully expect to have—for it is scarcely likely you will for a single moment win this ridiculous Scholarship—I trust that I shall send you out to your father a well-mannered and decorous woman. I have the greatest dislike to the manners of the present day, and the new sort of girl who is growing up so rapidly in our midst is thoroughly abhorrent to me."
"Well, Helen," said Kitty, glancing full at her, "I know you won't mind if I am frank. I certainly wish to win the Scholarship; I am struggling with all my might and main to win it. It is of the utmost importance to me, for I want to be as well educated as possible when I go to dear father in India; but if I fail—yes, Helen, I will try my very best to please you while I am under your roof."
"Hoots, lass, you cannot do more, but do not speak in such exaggerated phrases. Now let us walk down this avenue. What a beautiful view! How soothing is nature in all her aspects!"
Kitty could not help shuddering. "Oh, dear! oh, dear!" she whispered, under her breath, "how am I to live if I lose the Scholarship!"
Meanwhile little Mrs. Aylmer, clasping a firm hold of Florence's arm, had carried her off right through the house and into one of the gardens at the back. "Your Aunt Susan is not down yet," she said; "it is the most merciful Providence, for I judge from her manner of last night that she means to absorb you. Now, then, darling, tell me what are your chances?"
"Oh, I don't know, mother; I suppose they are pretty good, and I have tried my best—I can't do any more."
"Really, Florence, you look quite splendid; I would not know you for the same girl. How your figure has changed; you have attained quite an elegant shape, my love—small waist, rounded form, a little pale, paler than I should wish, but your eyes have greatly improved; they have got a sort of pathetic expression in them which is very becoming, very becoming indeed." Mrs. Aylmer danced in front of Florence, examining each feature critically, her own small eyes twinkling, and her round face flushing in her excitement.