"Yes, she is a distinguished-looking girl," said Sir John, just glancing at Florence, and then looking away again, "but Kitty is my choice; give me the little wildflower Kitty. How sweet she is!" "Well, of course, she belongs to a totally different order of being," said Mrs. Clavering, dropping her voice; "but what about the Scholarship, Sir John?" "I dare not think of anyone else winning it," said Sir John; "but, of course, I have to face the fact that either of the other girls may succeed. Above all things, one must act fairly." "I just doubted whether you gave a fair subject for the essay," said Mrs. Clavering. "What do you mean?" "Heroism," repeated the head mistress, speaking slowly and dropping her voice. "With such a subject you appeal so distinctly to the heart. If the heart does not respond, the essay on Heroism will never be done justice to." "Ay, it is the supreme test, the supreme test," said Sir John, slowly. Again his eyes wandered to Kitty. From her charming, bright, anxious face he looked at Florence. It so happened that at that moment Florence had raised her own dark eyes and fixed them on him. The suffering she had lately lived through had added refinement to her face, and the baronet caught himself looking at her again and again. "Yes, she has improved; there is something in her; but what is she so unhappy about, I wonder?" he thought. Just then Mary Bateman skipped up, asked his opinion with regard to a fresh sketch she was making, and carried him away to chat with her in a corner. Next to Kitty, Sir John certainly liked plain little Mary best. Light refreshments were brought in on little trays, and the girls were invited to partake. The three young hostesses acted with _aplomb_ and much tact. Dull girls were drawn out of themselves, lively girls were placed with suitable companions. Games were proposed, which were all conducted in a spirited and lively manner, and finally the proceedings ended with a gay dance. It was at this moment, just when the dance was in full swing, that Sir John Wallis came up and offered his arm to Florence. "Will you waltz with me?" he said. She looked up at him, colored with delight, and laid her hand on his arm. The two led the dance, and right merry was the music which was played to it. The dance had just come to an end when Sir John looked full at Florence and spoke. "I heard from your aunt, Mrs. Aylmer, and she is much pleased to accept my invitation. She will be my guest on the evening of the 29th, and I hope I may persuade her to stay a few days longer. You must see a great deal of her while she is at Cherry Court Park. You are a great favorite with her, are you not?" "Of late I have been a favorite," said Florence, and now she looked full at Sir John and her lip trembled. "There is something the matter with you, my dear," said Sir John. "Oh, I don't know--nothing." Then she added, as if the words were wrung from her lips, "I hate Aunt Susan."