A Bunch of Cherries: A Story of Cherry Court School

"Come home, Flo," said Mrs. Aylmer the less. "We must not disturb you, of course, Susan, and we'll be punctual to the moment. What do you think of her, Flo?" said the widow, as soon as she and her daughter were out of sight.

"I think she looks horrid, mother, just as she always did. How well I remember going to see her shortly after poor father died, and how she used to make you cry, and how cold she always was, and what miserable tea she gave us! We had better ask her to a meal unless we want to be starved, Mummy, dear."

"I can't afford it really, Flo, and she would remark upon every luxury we had at the table. She would write to me afterwards and say, 'From the style of your meal,' etc."

"Oh, don't mother; I wish she hadn't come," said Florence. "You and I could have been quite happy and cosy alone, but now she will contrive to make us truly miserable."

"She has come for a reason," said Mrs. Aylmer, solemnly, "and it behooves you, Flo, to put your best foot foremost. I have got a nice little white jacket for you to wear this afternoon, and white becomes you very much."

"A white jacket! What sort?" said Florence.

"One that your aunt sent me two years back, and which I altered by a pattern of yours. You can wear it with that serge dress, and you will look quite cool and nice. Now then, darling, let us have our own dinner, because we must be punctual; it would never do to keep Susan waiting."

Neither of the ladies did keep Aunt Susan waiting. They arrived at the hotel, which turned out to be the "Crown and Garter," just as the great clock in the hall struck three.

Mrs. Aylmer had never been inside the "Crown and Garter," and she now looked around her with intense pleasure, and when one of the waiters came forward asked him in a pompous voice for "my sister-in-law, Mrs. Aylmer."

The man withdrew, to return in a moment or two to say that Mrs. Aylmer was in her private sitting-room, number 24, and would see the ladies immediately.

CHAPTER XI.

"I ALWAYS ADMIRED FRANKNESS."

"Hold your head up, Flo, and don't be nervous," whispered the widow, as they walked down the long corridor, the waiter going in front. He paused opposite number 24, flung the door open, and announced in a loud voice, "Mrs. Aylmer and Miss Florence Aylmer," and then shut the door behind the two ladies.

The widow walked nervously up the room and then stood confronting her sister-in-law. The elder Mrs. Aylmer had just risen from a sofa on which she had been lying. Mrs. Aylmer the less was quite right in prophesying her sister-in-law would be a large woman in the future; she was a large woman now, stoutly built and very fat about the face. Her face was pasty in complexion without a scrap of color in it, and her eyes were of too light a blue to redeem the general insipidity of her appearance; but when she spoke that insipidity vanished, for her lips were very firm, and were apt to utter incisive words, and at such moments her pale blue eyes would flash with a light fire which was full of sarcasm, and might even rise to positive cruelty.

"Sit down, Mabel," she said to Mrs. Aylmer. "Now Florence, I wish to say a few words to you. You will have tea with me, of course, Mabel, you and your daughter."

"Thank you very much indeed, Susan," said Mrs. Aylmer the less. "It will be a real treat," she added sotto voce, but loud enough for her sister-in-law to hear.

"H'm! I have tea at four o'clock," said Mrs. Aylmer the great; "I will just ring the bell and give orders; then we shall have time for a nice comfortable conversation. My dear," she added, turning to her niece, "would you oblige me by ringing that bell?"

Florence rose and did so. There was an ominous silence between the three until the waiter appeared to answer the summons.

"Three cups of tea and some thin bread and butter at four o'clock," said Mrs. Aylmer the great, in an icy tone of command.

The waiter said, "Yes, ma'am," bowed, and withdrew.

Mrs. Aylmer the less thought of the hearty tea she and Florence would make at home, the shrimps and the brown bread and butter, and the honey and the strong tea with a little cream to flavor it; nevertheless, her beady black eyes were fixed on her sister-in-law now with a look which almost signified adoration.

"Don't stare so much, Mabel," said Mrs. Aylmer; "you have not lost that unpleasant habit; you always had it from the time I first knew you, and I see your daughter has inherited it. Now then, Florence, to business."

"Yes, aunt, to business," replied Florence, very brusquely.

Mrs. Aylmer stared at her niece.

"You speak in a very free-and-easy way," she said, "considering your circumstances."

Florence colored angrily.

"My circumstances," she answered; "I don't quite understand."

"Has not your mother told you about my, alas! unavoidable change of plans?"

"I have, Susan, I have," said the widow, in an eager, deprecating voice. "I told dear Florry the day after her arrival. By doing without meat and fruits and vegetables I contrived to pay her third-class fare from Cherry Court School to Dawlish, and on the night of her arrival I told her about your sensible letter."

"H'm, I am glad you think it sensible," said Mrs. Aylmer; "sensible or not, it is unavoidable. You leave Cherry Court School at the end of next term, Florence, and I am about to write to your governess, Mrs. Clavering, to give her due notice of your removal. I hope, my dear, you have profited much by the excellent education which I have given you during the last three years."

"I don't know that," replied Florence, in a sulky tone. "Where is the good," she said to herself, "of trying to please this horrid Aunt Susan, and I quite hate Mummy to fawn on her the way she is doing. I at least cannot stoop to it. No; and I will not."

"You have not profited by your time at school," replied Mrs. Aylmer the great; "what do you mean?"

"I have done my best, of course," replied Florence, "but I am quite a young girl still, only just fifteen. Girls of fifteen are not educated, are they, Aunt Susan? Were you educated when you were fifteen?"

"Oh, Flo, Flo," said the mother, in a voice of agony; "pray do forgive her, Susan."

"I wish you wouldn't interrupt, Mabel," said Mrs. Aylmer, lying back in her luxurious chair as she spoke, and folding her fat hands across her lap. "I like Florence to speak out. I hate people to fawn on me."

"Dear! dear!" said Mrs. Aylmer the less. She rolled her black eyes, then lowered them and fixed them on the carpet. It was impossible to understand Susan, she was a most extraordinary woman. If, after all, Florry was on the right track and won the day!

"Girls of fifteen are not specially well educated," proceeded Mrs. Aylmer, fixing her eyes again upon Florence's face, which was now a little red; "and I don't intend your education to be finished. I have been fortunate enough to gain you admittance into an excellent school for the daughters of the poor clergy. You are to go as a pupil teacher; you will not receive any remuneration for the first two years, but you can continue to have lessons in music, French, and German."

"And what about English?" said Florence.

"You are to impart English. I conclude that at your age you at least know your mother tongue thoroughly."

"But that's just it, I do not," said Florence. "I know French fairly well for a girl of my age, and I have a smattering of German, and am fairly fond of music. I don't care for English History nor English Literature, and I have not studied either of them; and my grammar is very weak, and my spelling – well, Aunt Susan, I can't spell properly. I am sorry, but I inherit bad spelling from my mother."

"Oh, Florence!" cried the poor little widow.

"I do, Mummy; you know perfectly well that you have never yet spelt 'arrange' right, nor 'agreeable.' You always leave out one of the 'e's' in the middle of agreeable. Oh, I have had such a fight with those two words, and I do inherit my bad spelling from you. Well, Aunt Susan, what more do you wish me to say?"

"I cannot admire your manners, Florence, and as to your appearance, it leaves very much to be desired."

Mrs. Aylmer looked very calmly all over Florence. Florence suddenly sprang to her feet, her temper was getting the better of her. She inherited her temper, not from her mother, for the little Mummy had the easiest-going temper in the world, but from her father. John Aylmer when he was alive had been known to plead his own cause with effect on more than one occasion, and now some of his spirit animated his young daughter. She rose to her feet and spoke hastily.

"I am not good-looking," she said, "and I know it; I cannot help my features, God gave them to me and I must be content with them. My nose is snub and my mouth is wide, but I have got some good points, and if I were your daughter, Aunt Susan – and I am heartily glad I'm not your daughter; I would much, much rather be Mummy's daughter, poor as she is – but if I were your daughter you would dress me in such a fashion that my good points would come out, for I have good points; a nice complexion, fine hair and plenty of it, and fairly good eyes, and my figure would not look clumsy if I wore proper stays and properly-made dresses; and my feet would not be like clodhoppers, if I had fine well-made boots and silk stockings; and my hands – "

"You need not proceed, Florence," said Mrs. Aylmer, rising abruptly. "Mabel, I pity you; I should like to wash my hands of your daughter, but I cannot forget my promise to my poor dead husband, who begged me on his deathbed not to allow either of you to starve. 'For the sake of the family, Susan,' he said, 'don't let my sister-in-law Mabel and her daughter Florence go to the workhouse.' And I promised him, and I mean as long as the breath animates this feeble frame to keep my word.

"As long as I live, Mabel, your fifty pounds a year is secured to you, and I shall allow you, after Florence leaves that expensive school, which has cost me from one hundred and twenty to a hundred and forty pounds a year, to give you an additional fifteen pounds, thus raising your income to the very creditable one of sixty-five pounds per annum. As to you, Florence, having gone to the enormous expense of your education and having placed you at Mrs. Goodwin's excellent school at Stoneley Hall as pupil teacher, I wash my hands of you."

"Very well, Aunt Susan, that's all right," replied Florence. "I never did like you and I like you less every time I see you, but I want to say something on my own account. It is quite possible that I may not go to Mrs. Goodwin's school at Stoneley Hall. There is a chance that I may be able to remain at Cherry Court School quite independent of you, Aunt Susan."

"Yes, Flo, that's right," said Mrs. Aylmer the less, rising now to her feet and giving her daughter an admiring glance. "I always knew you had spirit, my darling; you inherit it from your poor dear father. If John were alive he would be proud of you, now, Flo. Tell about the Scholarship, Florry, my pet; tell about the Scholarship, dear."

Mrs. Aylmer the great was now so speechless with astonishment that she did not open her lips. Florence turned and faced her.

"It is your fault that I am plain," she said, "you have not done what my uncle asked you to do. You have paid my fees at school, but you have not made it possible for me to grow up nice in any sense of the word. You have always thrown your gifts in my face, and you have never given me decent clothes to wear. It is very hard on a girl to be dressed as shabbily as I am, and to be twitted by her companions for what she cannot help; and although you kept me at Cherry Court School, there have been times over and over when I hated you, Aunt Susan, and but for my dear little Mummy I would have left the school and earned my bread as a dressmaker or a servant. But there is a chance that I may continue to be a lady and hold the position I was born to without any help from you. A great Scholarship has been offered to the girls of Cherry Court School. It is offered by Sir John Wallis, the owner of Cherry Court Park."

"Sir John Wallis! The owner of Cherry Court Park! Why, I know him," said Mrs. Aylmer. "I was staying in the same house with him last year – a most charming man, delightful, good-looking, most agreeable manners, and such a brave soldier! Do you mean to tell me, Florence, that you know him?"

"He is the patron of our school; I thought you were aware of that fact," said Florence.

"Your manners, my dear, are simply odious, but I listen to your words with interest. Ah! here comes the tea. Put it on that table, waiter!"

The waiter appeared, carrying the tray waiter-fashion on his hand. It contained three very small cups of weak tea, and about five tiny wafers of the thinnest bread and butter. There was a little sky-blue milk in a jug, and a few lumps of sugar in a little silver basin. Mrs. Aylmer glanced at the meal as if she were about to give her sister-in-law and her niece a royal feast. "This is most exciting," she said; "we will enjoy our tea when you, Florence, have explained yourself. So you know Sir John Wallis. When you see him again pray remember me to him."

"Oh, I don't know him personally," said Florence; "there is a girl at the school he is very fond of, but I just go in with the others. He is giving the Scholarship, however."

"Go on, my dear; you interest me immensely. With judicious dress and a little attention to manners, you might be more presentable than I thought you were at first, Florence. Take this chair near me; now go on. What has dear Sir John done?"

"He is offering a Scholarship to the girls of Cherry Court School, and the girl who wins the Scholarship is to receive a free education for three years," said Florence. "I am trying for the Scholarship, and if I win it I shall remain at Cherry Court School for three years at Sir John's expense. I shall be known as the Cherry Court Scholarship girl, and be much respected by my companions; so you, Aunt Susan, will have nothing to say to my subsequent education. I shall be very pleased to wash my hands of you. I think, Mummy, that is about all, and we had better go now. There will be a better tea for us at home, and I for one am rather hungry."

Mrs. Aylmer the great was quite silent for a moment, then she spoke in a changed voice.

"Florence," she said, "you need much correction; you are a very bombastic, disagreeable, silly, ignorant girl, but I will own it – I do admire spirit, you have a look of your father, and I was very fond of poor John; not as fond of him as I was of my own dear Tom, but still I respected him. Had he lived you would have been a different girl, but your unfortunate mother – "

"If you say a word against mother I shall leave the room this instant, and never speak to you again," said Florence.

"Really, my dear, you do go a little beyond yourself – I who have done so much for you; but that Scholarship is interesting. Florence, you had better go home; I will have a word with your mother by herself. First of all, however, are you likely to win it?"

"I vow that I'll get it," said Florence.

"Florence is really clever, dear Susan," said Mrs. Aylmer the less, now bursting in in an irrepressible voice; "I believe Sir John is much struck with her. He did an extraordinary thing, and at the Cherry Feast, which always ends the summer term at the school, had a preliminary examination, and dear Flo, with two other girls, is eligible to compete for the great Scholarship. They call themselves the lucky three – their names are Kitty Sharston, Mary Bateman, and Florry. Yes, Florence is very clever."

"She has a good-shaped forehead," said Mrs. Aylmer; "I greatly admire genius. You can go, Florence; I'll speak to your mother."

"I think you had better come too, Mummy," said Florence; "surely it is not necessary for you to remain."

But Mrs. Aylmer glanced at her sister-in-law and then at Florence, and decided to remain.

"No, no, dear child," she said, "I have a great deal to say to your Aunt Susan; she has the kindest heart in the world, and the fact is, I am looking forward to my cup of tea. What delicious tea it looks! It is so kind of you, Susan, to give it to me."

Florence stalked to the door without a word, opened it, and shut it after her. When she had done so the widow glanced at the rich Mrs. Aylmer.

"You must forgive the dear child, Susan," she said.

"Forgive her! there is nothing to forgive," said Mrs. Aylmer.

"But she was very rude to you."

"I prefer her rudeness to your fawning, Mabel, and that I will say frankly."

"Fawning! Dear Susan, you certainly have a very peculiar way, but there – "

"We need not talk about my ways; my ways are my own. I wish to say something now. If my niece Florence wins the Scholarship, after her term at Cherry Court has expired I shall send her abroad for two years, paying all expenses of her education there. On her return, if she turns out to be a highly-educated, stylish woman, I shall take her to live with me, taking a house in London and giving her every advantage. I intended to do this for Florence if she turned out good-looking; she will never be good-looking, but she may be a genius which is equally interesting. All depends on her winning the Scholarship. If she loses it she goes to Mrs. Goodwin's school at Stoneley Hall, having clearly proved to me that her abilities are not above the average. If she wins it I do what I say, and in the meantime I wish you, my dear Mabel, to get her one or two pretty dresses, a nice hat, and a few suitable clothes. Or, stay, I have not the least doubt that your taste is atrocious; give me her measurements, and I shall write to my own dressmaker in London. Florence shall return to Cherry Court School as my niece, and I will write to Sir John Wallis myself with regard to her. Now, I think that is all. Oh, you would like your tea. Take it, pray, and hand me a cup. That silly girl! but I always did admire frankness."

CHAPTER XII.

THE FAIRY BOX

The rest of the week at Dawlish passed on the wings of speed.

Mrs. Aylmer took her departure on the following morning, and neither the little Mummy nor Florence saw her again, but at the end of the week a box arrived at the widow's cottage. It was a wooden box carefully nailed down, and labelled: "This side up with care." It was addressed to Miss Florence Aylmer, and caused intense excitement, not only in the breast of Florence herself and Mrs. Aylmer, but also in that of Sukey and the near neighbors, for Mrs. Aylmer's tongue had not been idle during the few days which had passed since her sister-in-law's visit, and the intentions of Aunt Susan with regard to Florence had been freely talked over and commented on.

Nothing was said about the Scholarship. Mrs. Aylmer thought it just as well to leave that out. Her remarks were to the following effect:

"Florence is about to be adopted by her very wealthy aunt; she is already keeping her at a good school, and is about to send her some suitable dresses. In the end she will doubtless leave her her fortune."

After this Sukey and the neighbors looked with great respect at Florence, who for her part had never felt so cross in her life as when these hints were made.

"Mummy," she said once to her parent, "if I want to keep my self-respect I ought to refuse those clothes and give up Aunt Susan."

"My dear child, what do you mean? If you wanted to keep your self-respect! My dear Florence, are you mad?"

"Alas, mother, I fear I am mad," replied the girl, "for I do intend to accept Aunt Susan's bounty. I will wear her pretty dresses, and all the other things she happens to send me, and I will take her money and do my best, my very best, to get the Scholarship; but all the same, mother, I shall do it meanly, I know I shall do it meanly. It would be better for me to give up the Scholarship and go as a poor girl to Stoneley Hall. Mother, there is such a thing as lowering yourself in your own eyes, and I feel bad, bad about this."

Florence made these remarks on the evening the box arrived. The box was in the tiny sitting-room still unopened. Mrs. Aylmer was regarding it with flushed cheeks, and now after Florence's words she suddenly burst into tears.

"You try me terribly, Flo," she said, "and I have struggled so hard for your sake. This is such a splendid chance: all your future secured and I, my darling, relieved of the misery of feeling that you are unprovided for. Oh, Flo, for my sake be sensible."

"I will do anything for you, mother," said Florence, whose own eyes had a suspicion of tears in them. "It was just a passing weakness, and I am all right now. Yes, I will get the Scholarship, and I will stoop to Aunt Susan's ways – I will cringe to her if necessary; I will do my best to propitiate Sir John Wallis, and I will act like a snob in every sense of the word. There now, Mummy, I see you are dying to have the box opened. We will open it and see what it contains."

"First of all, kiss me, Florry," said Mrs. Aylmer.

Florence rose, went up to her mother, took her in her arms, and kissed her two or three times, but there was not that passion in the embrace, that pure abandon of love which Florence's first kiss when she arrived at Dawlish had been so full of.

"Now, then," she said, in a hasty voice, "let us get the screwdriver and open the box. This is exciting; I wonder what sort of taste Aunt Susan's dressmaker has."

"Exquisite, you may be sure, dear. There, there, I am all trembling to see the things, and Sukey must have a peep, mustn't she, Flo?"

"If I acted as I ought," said Florence, "I would take this box just as it stands unopened to Cherry Court School to-morrow."

"Oh, no, my dear; you could not think of doing such a thing; it would be so unkind to me. I shall dream of you in your pretty dresses, my love."

Florence said nothing more; she took the screwdriver from her mother, and proceeded to open the box.

Inside lay fold after fold of tissue paper. This was lifted away and then the first dress appeared to view. It was a soft shimmering silk of light texture, fashionably made and very girlish and simple. Florence could not help trembling when she saw it. All her scruples vanished at the first sight of the lovely clothes, and she took them out one by one to gaze at them in amazed delight.

The silk dress was followed by a flowered barege, and this by one or two cottons, all equally well made, quite suitable for a young girl, and the sort of dress which would give to Florence's somewhat clumsy figure a new grace. Under the three lighter dresses was a very plain but smartly-made thin blue serge, altogether different from the sort of serge which Florence had worn up to the present. To this serge was pinned a label, on which the words were written: "Travelling dress, and to be worn every day at school."

Under the pretty serge were half a dozen white embroidered aprons, and below them piles and piles of underlinen, all beautifully embroidered, silk stockings, little shoes, plenty of gloves, handkerchiefs, also embroidered with Florence's name. In short, a complete and very perfect wardrobe.

"Dear, dear, is it a dream?" said Florence; "am I the same girl? What magic that Scholarship has worked!"

"You must try them on, Flo," said the widow; "we shall be up some time. You must try one and all of them on, and Sukey shall come in and see you."

"Oh, mother, is it necessary to show them all to Sukey?"

"I think so, love, for it will spread the news, and it will greatly enhance my position in the place. I quite expect the Pratts will ask me to tea once a week, and they give very good teas – excellent; I never tasted better hot cakes than Ann Pratt makes. Yes, Flo dear, Sukey must see you in your smart clothes. Come upstairs to our bedroom and let us begin the trying-on, dearest."

Florence was sufficiently impressed with her new position to agree to this. She went upstairs with her mother, and for the next two hours the ladies were very busy.

Sukey was called to view Florence in each of her frocks, and when Sukey held up her hands and said that Miss Florence looked quite the lady of quality, and when she blinked her old eyes and fussed round the young girl, Mrs. Aylmer thought that her cup of bliss was running over.

At last the trying-on was completed, the old dresses discarded and put away, and Florence came downstairs in her travelling serge, wondering if a fairy wand had been passed over her, and if she were indeed the same girl who had arrived at Dawlish a week ago.