Kitty looked at her teacher and sighed. “It is hard when I’m trying to do my best,” she said.
“You have certainly improved, Kitty,” said Miss Archdale, “and you may be quite sure that your teachers notice it.”
Kitty went into the Lower School and there informed her special chums that, beyond doubt, Irish Peggy had lost her chance of the prize, for Miss Archdale would put a black mark against her name. As a matter of fact, no such black mark was put; but against Kitty’s own name there was a faint observation in pencil: “General improvement, but still sadly wanting in sincerity.”
And now the excitement with regard to the prize was really trembling more and more through the school. It was affecting every girl, from the eldest to the youngest, it was the subject of the hour, and little scraps of information with regard to it were eagerly treasured by the competitors, who were now all working seriously at their essays. It was about this time that Mrs. Fleming asked the girls to wait after prayers, and told them that she had a piece of information to give them. It was this:
By the express wish of the judges, who consisted of six London professors, three of whom were ladies and three were men, a further test was to be expected from the competitors. Each girl was to recite on the morning of the prize-giving some verses selected by herself. When this rather startling announcement was made every eye was fixed on Peggy, who flushed a vivid crimson, and each girl knew well that this recitation must result in Peggy’s favour, for no one else in the school had her really remarkable talent in this special art.
Mrs. Fleming observed the expression in all the watchful eyes, and said at once: “I know that Peggy Desmond recites remarkably well; but, on the other hand, she is severely handicapped with regard to the essay, as pure and perfect English is essential in the case of the competitor who wins this part of the competition. That being the case, I am glad that Peggy has her chance, and I am sure you all must agree with me.”
“Three cheers for Peggy Desmond!” sounded now through the room; the girls clapped their hands and looked smilingly at their favourite.
“Bedad, then, I’ll not compete if ye’d rather I didn’t,” was her remark. “It’s a way I have to learn things pat off book, very easy like, so perhaps it isn’t fair for me to say a poem. Of course I’d love it, but I’m willing to do what’s right.”
“I must say I agree with Peggy,” suddenly remarked Kitty; “the rest of us find recitations very difficult, and if she is willing not to recite, don’t you think it seems about fair?”
“If Peggy doesn’t recite,” said Mrs. Fleming, an indignant flush rising into her face, “I shall beg of the judges to excuse her the essay, and to give her an equal chance with the rest of you, minus the essay.”