"Don't want you—what nonsense!" said Mrs. Clavering, but she colored faintly as she spoke.
Sir John gave Florence a very keen glance.
"I may as well speak out now that I am about it," continued the girl. "There is a rumor in the school—I cannot tell you who started it, but there is a rumor—that you, Sir John, want Kitty to get the prize."
"It is perfectly true that I should like her to get it," said Sir John, instantly, "but the prize shall be bestowed upon the girl who comes out best in deportment, best in conduct, and best in learning, whether she is Kitty Sharston or another. Now, that is all, Florence Aylmer. I have spoken. Don't, I beg of you, say a word of what you have just said to me to Kitty herself. You have all equal chances. If Kitty fails she fails. I shall be disappointed, but I shall honor the girl who wins the great prize all the same."
"Thank you," replied Florence. She entered the hall; a moment later Mrs. Clavering followed her.
"My dear," she said, "what is wrong with you? I would not know you with that expression on your face."
"Things seem very hard," said Florence. "At first, when the prize was mentioned, it seemed quite too delicious, for you know, dear Mrs. Clavering, that I am poor, too, and if I were to win the prize it would be only too delightful; but if you do not wish me to take it"—tears filled her eyes; one of them rolled down her cheeks.
"I do heartily wish you to have it if you really win it, Florence. The competition is an open one, rest assured of that; and now, my dear, cease to think unkind thoughts of Kitty, and, above all things, don't breathe a word of what you have just said to me to her."
"That I promise," said Florence, but she went upstairs feeling discontented and depressed.
She sat down to write a letter to her mother.