"Oh, it is a College for Women which has been opened near Cambridge."

"Then if I thought I had to go to a College for Women I should be rather sorry to win the Scholarship," said Mabel Cunningham; "but there, don't let us talk of it any more. We are to have something of a half-holiday to-day, for Mrs. Clavering is to take the three lucky ones to Cherry Court Park."

Florence dressed herself with great care for this expedition. Kitty had shown her Sir John's letter, and she had felt a queer tingling pain at her heart as she read it; but then a sort of defiance, which was growing more and more in her character day by day, arose to her aid, and she determined that she would not give Sir John one loophole to find out anything amiss in her conduct.

"We are going to be spied upon, and it is perfectly horrid," she said, under her breath, "but never mind, I am determined to stand the test."

The day happened to be a lovely one, and Florence looked carefully through her wardrobe. She finally decided to put on the light summer silk which Mrs. Aylmer had provided for her. She looked very nice in that silk, almost pretty, and as all its accompaniments were perfect, the lace ruffles round the neck, the lace hanging over her hands, the trimmings of every sort just as they ought to be, the hat which she was to wear with the dress, specially chosen by the London dressmaker for the purpose, no one could look more elegant than Florence did as she stood in the hall of Cherry Court School just before she started for Cherry Court Park.

Kitty, on the other hand, had thought very little about her dress; she had no fine clothes to wear, so she just put on a clean white muslin dress, tied a colored sash round her waist, put her sailor hat on her head, and ran downstairs, a light in her eyes and a pleased smile round her lips.

"I cannot be anything great," she whispered to her heart, as she glanced for a moment at Florence, who looked something like a fashion plate as she stood in the hall, "but at least I'll be myself. I'll try—yes, I'll try very hard to forget all about the Scholarship to-day. I want to make dear Sir John happy, and I hope, I do hope he'll tell me something about father and the time they spent together outside Sebastopol."

Mary Bateman was the downright sort of girl who never under any circumstances could trouble herself about dress. She wore her best Sunday frock, that was all, and her best hat, and her gloves were a little darned at the tips, but she looked like a lady and was not the least self-conscious.

Sir John's own carriage was to arrive to fetch the ladies to the Park. Cherry Court Park was between two and three miles away from Cherry Court School, and Mrs. Clavering and her three pupils greatly enjoyed their drive to the splendid old place. Kitty had been there twice before, once with her father and once without him, but neither Florence nor Mary had ever seen the interior of the Park. Mary's exclamations of rapture as they drove under the overhanging trees and down the long winding avenue were frequent and enthusiastic. Florence, however, scarcely spoke; she was not a girl to be much impressed by external beauty; she was thinking all the time how she could keep the best and most amiable part of her character to the fore. What did Sir John mean to do? What sort of test was he going to apply to her? She felt that she must be armed on every point.

"My dear girls," said Mrs. Clavering, just as they were approaching the house, "I see you are all a little nervous, thinking that a somewhat strange test will be applied to you to-day, but I assure you, my dears, that nothing of the kind is intended, and I beg of you, as you wish to impress your kind host favorably, to be at any cost natural and true to yourselves. Florence dear, I would specially beg of you to remember my words. Don't set your heart too much on any earthly good thing, my child, for often those who lose gain more than those who win."