of all the girls
at Cherry Court School no one was so likely to help her in the future
as Florence Aylmer. If Florence won the Scholarship and became the
adopted heiress of a rich aunt, the opportunities in favor of Bertha's
advancement would be enormous. On the other hand, if Mary Bateman won
the Scholarship nothing at all would happen to further Bertha's
interest. The same might be said with regard to Kitty Sharston.
Bertha, therefore, who was extremely sharp herself and thoroughly well
educated, determined that she would not leave a stone unturned to help
Florence with regard to the Scholarship. Nothing was said on the
subject between Florence and Bertha for several weeks. Bertha never
failed, however, to propitiate Florence, helping her when she could
with her work, doing a thousand little nameless kindnesses for her, and
giving her, when the opportunity offered, many sympathetic glances.
She managed to glean from the younger girls something of Florence's
history, noted when those long letters came from Mrs. Aylmer the great,
observed how depressed Florence was when she received letters from
Dawlish, noted her feverish anxiety to deport herself well, to lead a
life of excellent conduct, and, above all things, to struggle through
the weighty themes which had to be mastered in order to win the great
Scholarship.

One day about three weeks before the Scholarship examination was to
take place, and a week after the events related in the last chapter,
Florence was engaged in reading a long letter from her Aunt Susan.
Mrs. Aylmer had received her invitation to Cherry Court Park, and had
written to her niece on the subject.

"I shall arrive the day before the Scholarship examination," she wrote,
"and, my dear girl, will bring with me a dress suitable for you to wear
on the great day. I have consulted my dressmaker, Madame le Rouge, and
she suggests white bengaline, simply made and suitable to a young girl.
Yours, my dear Florence, will be the simplest dress in the school, and
yet far and away the most elegant, for what we have to aim at now is
the extreme simplicity of graceful youth. Nothing costs more than
simplicity, my dear girl, as you will discover presently. But more of
that when we meet. One last word, dear Florence; of course, you will
not fail. Were I to see you dishonored, I should never hold up my head
again, and, as far as you are concerned, would wash my hands of you
forever."

Florence's lips tr