A Bunch of Cherries: A Story of Cherry Court School. Meade L. T.

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СКАЧАТЬ 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-world garden, with its yew-trees cut in quaint shapes, and its high walls, and its flowers, which seemed, every one of them, to belong to the past.

      At last the Major and Florence reached the postern-gate which opened into the cherry orchard, and then Florence stood still and raised her voice and called, "Kitty! Kitty Sharston!" and there came an answering call, clear and high as a bird's, and the next instant Kitty, in her white summer dress, was seen emerging from under the cherry-trees. She saw her father, uttered a cry half of rapture, half of pain, and the next instant was clasped in his arms. Florence saw the Major's arms fold around Kitty, and a queer lump rose in her throat and she went away all by herself. Somehow, at that moment she felt that she shared Mrs. Clavering's wish that Kitty Sharston should get the prize.

      "Although it means a great deal to me, a great deal more than anyone can guess," thought Florry to herself, "for Aunt Susan is never very kind to the dear little mother, and she makes such a compliment of giving her that money term after term, and she insists on doing everything in the very cheapest way. Why will she not," continued Florence, looking down at her dress as she spoke, "why will she not give me decent clothes like other girls! I never have anything pretty. It is brown holland all during the summer, the coarsest brown holland, and it is the coarsest blue serge during the winter; never, never anything else – no style, no fashion, no pretty ribbons, not even a cherry ribbon for my hair, and so little pocket-money, oh! so little – only a penny a week. What can a girl do with a penny a week? Of course, she does allow me a few stamps, just a very few, to send Mummy letters, but she does keep me so terribly close. Sometimes I can scarcely bear the life. Oh, what a difference the Scholarship would make, and Sir John Wallis would think a great deal of me, and so would Mrs. Clavering. Why, I should be the show girl of the school, the Cherry Court Scholarship girl; it would be splendid, quite splendid! But then Kitty, poor Kitty, and what a look the Major had on his face! I wonder what can be wrong? Oh dear! oh, dear! my heart is torn in two. Why do I long beyond all words to win the prize, and why, why do I hate taking it from Kitty Sharston?"

      CHAPTER VI.

      KITTY AND HER FATHER

      Meanwhile the Major and Kitty went away by themselves. As soon as Kitty had hugged her father, one close, passionate, voiceless hug, she released him, stepped back a pace, looked him in the face, and then said eagerly, "Come away quickly, father; there is a meadow at the back of the cherry orchard which we can have quite to ourselves. Come at once. Did Mrs. Clavering send you out here? How good of her to let me see you alone!"

      "She does not even know that I have come, Kitty," replied her father. "I met a girl – I don't know what her name is – just as I reached the porch, and she took me to you. I cannot stay very long, my love, as I must get back to Chatham to-night."

      "All right," said Kitty; "let us make for the meadow; there is a big oak-tree and we can sit under it and no one need see us. We must be alone all, all during the time that you are here."

      The Major said nothing. Kitty linked her hand through his arm. She was feeling wildly excited – her father and she were together. It might be an hour, or it might be two hours, that they were to spend together, but the time was only beginning now. They were together, and she felt all the warm glow of love, all the ecstasy of perfect happiness in their reunion.

      They reached the oak-tree in the meadow, the Major sat down, and Kitty threw herself by his side.

      "Well, Kitty," he said, "what is this that I hear? I read your letter; it is quite a wonderful letter, little girl. It was the sort of letter a brave girl would write."

      "The sort of letter a girl would write whose father was a hero before Sebastopol," said Kitty.

      "What has put that in you head, my darling?"

      "Sir John Wallis spoke of it. Oh, father dear, won't you go and see Sir John Wallis – he is so nice and so kind? You were both heroes before Sebastopol, were you not, father dearest, you and he?"

      "We were in the trenches and we suffered a good bit," said the Major, a grim smile on his face, "but those are bygone times, Kitty."

      "All the same they are times that can never be forgotten while English history lasts," said Kitty with a proud sparkle in her eyes.

      "Well, no, little girl, I don't suppose England will ever forget the men who fought for her," replied the Major; "but we won't waste time talking on these matters now, my child; we have much else to say."

      "What, father?"

      "Well, your letter for instance; and you greatly dislike going to stay with Helen Dartmoor?"

      Kitty's face turned pale; she had been rosy up to now. The roses faded out of her cheeks, then her lips turned white, and the brightness left her eyes.

      "I should hate it," she said; "there are no other words."

      "And you think there is just an off chance that you may win this wonderful Scholarship?"

      "I mean to have the biggest try a girl ever had, and you know your Kitty," replied the girl.

      "Yes, I know my brave, brave Kitty, the girl who has clung to her father through thick and thin, who has always tried to please him, who has a spirit of her own."

      "Which I inherit from you," said Kitty. "Oh, I have lots of faults; I can be so cheeky when I like, and so naughty about rules, but somehow nothing, nothing ever frightens me, except the thought of going to Helen Dartmoor. You see, father, dear, it would be so hopeless. You cannot take the hope out of anybody's life and expect the person to do well, can you, father? Do speak, father – can you?"

      "No, my child, I know that, but even if СКАЧАТЬ