Her heart felt a little uncomfortable, and, notwithstanding the hope that she might spend a week at Dawlish with her mother, to whom she was devotedly attached, and the further hope of taking an honorable place in the coming competition, she felt a queer sense of depression.
She was just preparing to leave the school-room when the door opened and Mademoiselle Le Brun looked in. She did not see Florence at first, then she glanced at her and spoke hurriedly.
"I thought Kitty Sharston was here; I want her," she said.
"No," said Florence; "what is it; what do you want?"
"I have to give her a shilling back out of the change."
"A shilling out of the change; what do you mean?"
"Oh, nothing, my dear; I ought not to tell you; I owe her a shilling, that's all."
"By the way, mademoiselle," said Florence, "I have not thanked you yet for getting me that lovely ribbon. How was it you managed to get it so cheaply?"
"I am glad you like it," she said; "it was not particularly cheap."
She left the room, although Florence called after her to stay.
Florence walked quickly to the window. She looked out. The sun was still high in the heavens, for on this midsummer day it would take a long time before the evening arrived. Florence's heart beat harder than ever, for suddenly her eyes were opened, and she knew how she had got the cherry-colored ribbon. Kitty had given it to her, and Florence had stolen some of Kitty's knowledge and applied it to herself.
She hated herself for it, but not enough to retract what she had done. She went up to her room, threw herself on the bed, and burst out crying.
Yes, she would stick to it now, but, all the same, she hated herself. It was very unpleasant to be lowered in her own eyes, but she would go through with the matter now, whatever befell.
The chance of going to Dawlish, the chance of winning the Scholarship, meant too much to her; she must secure this good thing which had fallen in her path at any cost.
The evening drew on apace, and the whole school was in a perfect fever of excitement. The girls came up to their different dormitories to dress for the occasion.
Kitty, who was not too well provided with clothes, nevertheless did possess one very smart evening frock. It was made of lovely Indian muslin, exquisitely embroidered and beautifully made. She took it now out of her trunk, and looked at it with admiration. Her father had bought this Indian muslin for her, having sent for it straight away to India, and he had himself superintended the making of the beautiful dress.