Florry was very grave and silent all day; and in the afternoon she looked so pale, that Miss Van Ness asked her if she was not well.
"My head aches, Miss Van Ness; and last night I hurt my shoulder and side with the windlass of the well, and it pains me very much," answered Florry. "Please excuse me from writing. My arm is so lame."
"I think it is best to excuse you altogether," said Miss Van Ness, kindly. "You had better go home and lie down; and, Emma, you may go with her, if you please, as you have done all your lessons so well to-day."
The next day, Florry's arm was so stiff that she could not raise it at all, and her father thought she had better stay quietly at home. Florry was not at all sorry to do so, for the more she thought about her fault, the more sorry and ashamed she felt; and it seemed to her that everybody must know all about it.
It was not till Friday morning that Florry came to school again. This Friday was a very important day. It was the end of the term, and in the afternoon all the school would be assembled in the great room to hear the reports read, which would determine their standing for the next term.
Emma was feeling very happy and very confident. She had really been careful for the last two weeks, and she had only been marked twice; and she had somehow settled it in her own mind that these two weeks were to out-balance all the rest of the term. Florry would have liked to think so, too; but she could not bring herself to do so. She had kept an accurate account of her own standing and Emma's, a thing Emma never thought of doing; and she felt pretty sure that her friend would be put back.
"But I won't go up unless she does," decided Florry, as she stopped at the house of Mrs. Mansfield, where she was to do an errand for her father. "If I pass and Emma does not, I will just ask father and Mr. Hausen to let me stay down till the end of next term; and then I can go over the geography again with Miss Van Ness."
The Mansfields had lately come to Round Springs to live, and had bought one of the finest houses in the village, which they had furnished at a great expense. They had only two children: Emmeline, who was a grown-up young lady, and Matilda or Tilly, who was a year younger than Florry Lester, and who came to the Kindergarten. Tilly was no great favourite with the girls, who accused her of "feeling grand" and putting on airs, because her father was rich and came from New York; and perhaps there was some truth in the accusation. If so, it was more Tilly's misfortune than her fault; for she had always been used to hear money talked about as if it had been the all-important thing, beside which nothing was of any great consequence.
"Oh, Florry!" said Tilly, meeting her school-mate in the hall. "I am so glad to see you. Did you come for me to go to school with you?"
"No," said Florry; "I came to do an errand for father; but we can go to school together, unless I have to go home first."