ing the
Scholarship. I mean to have a good try for the Scholarship, Mummy,
dear. Be sure you say so to Aunt Susan when you ask her for my
third-class fare to Dawlish. Good-bye again, Mummy dear.
FLORENCE."

Having written this letter Florence uttered a sigh of relief, put it
into its envelope, addressed it, stamped it, and ran downstairs to put
it in the school letter-box. Just as she was in the act of doing so
the chaise drew up at the front door, a tall soldierly man got out, he
came into the porch, and just as he was about to ring the bell, his
eyes met those of Florence.

"This is Cherry Court School, is it not?" he said, taking off his hat
to the girl.

"Yes," replied Florence; "can I do anything for you, sir?"

"My name is Major Sharston. I have come to see my daughter; can you
tell me where I shall find her?"

"Are you indeed Kitty's father?" said Florence, her heart now shining
out of her eyes. She had beautiful eyes, dark grey with very long,
black lashes. Her face, which was somewhat pale, was quite quivering
with emotion.

"Yes, I am Kitty's father," was the reply. "Shall I go into the house,
and will you be kind enough to tell her that I am here; or perhaps,"
added the Major, looking as wistful as Florence herself, "you might
take me to her straight away?"

"I will take you to her straight away, that's just it," said Florence.
She turned back to drop her letter into the school letter-box, and then
conducted the Major across the lawn and into the outer garden. In this
garden every old-fashioned flower imaginable bloomed and thrived, and
reared its graceful head. The Major walked down through great lines of
tall hollyhocks and peonies of every color and description. Then he
passed under a sweet-briar hedge and then along a further hedge of
Scotch roses, red and white; and the scent from mignonette and sweet
peas and the sweet-briar and the roses came up to his nostrils. Never
to the longest day of his life did the Major forget the sweet scent of
the old-fashioned garden and the pain at his heart all the time, for he
was going to see Kitty, to bid her good-bye for years--perhaps, who
could tell? for ever.

Florence seemed to guess some of his feelings, though she did not know
the actual story, for Kitty was very reserved and kept her troubles to
herself. The Major made no remark about the garden, which in itself
was somewhat curious, for strangers were always in raptures over this
old