The Luckiest Girl in the School | Page 9

pen. Her theme had taken her so long
that she had only ten minutes left for the other questions. There was no
romantic side to be expressed in these, so she scribbled away
half-heartedly. Her uncertain memory, which had readily supplied
quotations from Browning or Edgar Allan Poe, struck altogether when
asked for such sordid details as the names of the Cabal ministry, or the
history of the Long Parliament. The bell rang, and left her with her
paper only half finished. At one o'clock the candidates were given an
hour's rest, and a hot lunch was served to them in the dining-hall. At
two they returned to their desks, and the examination continued until
half-past four. Winona found the questions tolerable. She did fairly, but
not at all brilliantly. Her brains were not accustomed to such
long-sustained efforts, and as the afternoon wore on, a neuralgic
headache began, and sent sharp throbs of pain across her forehead. It
was so irksome to write pages of Latin or French verbs; she had to
summon all her courage to make herself do it. The last hour seemed an
interminable penance.
At half-past four, twenty-one rather dispirited candidates filed from the
room.
"Well, thank goodness it's over! I never want to write another word in
my life. My hand's stiff with cramp!" exclaimed the girl with the red
hair-ribbon to a sympathetic audience in the passage.
"It was awful! I didn't answer half the questions. My swastika isn't
worth its salt. I shall give it away!" mourned the owner of the mascot.
"They expected us to know so very much; we should be absolute
encyclopaedias if we had all that pat off at our fingers' ends!" sighed
the girl with the fair pigtail.
"How did you get on?" Winona asked the ruddy-haired girl, who was

wiping her spectacles nervously.
"Oh, I don't know. It's so hard to tell. I answered most of the questions,
but of course I can't say whether they're right or wrong. Wasn't the
Latin translation just too horrible? I yearned for a dictionary. And some
of the French grammar questions were absolute catches!"
"We went on too long," said Winona. "It would have been much better
to spread the exam, over two days."
"Do you think so? I'd rather have 'sudden death' myself. It's such a
relief to feel it's finished. It would be wretched to have to begin again
to-morrow. I hardly slept a wink last night for thinking about it. I'm
going to try and forget it now."
Winona nodded good-by to her fellow candidates, and took her leave.
How many of them would she see again, she wondered, and which
among all the number would have the luck?
"Certainly not myself," she thought ruefully. "I know my papers
weren't up to standard. I believe that red-haired girl will be one. She
looked clever!"
Winona had spent the preceding night with Aunt Harriet, who offered
to keep her until the result of the examination should be published, but
the prospect of spending a week of suspense at Abbey Close was so
formidable, that she had begged to be allowed to return home, excusing
herself on the plea that she would like to be with Percy during the
remainder of his holidays. It was a very subdued Winona who reached
Highfield next afternoon.
"Hello, Tiddleywinks! You've lost the starch out of you!" Percy greeted
her. "Did they say they wouldn't have you at any price?"
"The result won't be out till the fifteenth, but I expect I've failed,"
answered Winona gloomily.
"Buck up, young 'un! Look at yours truly! I fail nine times out of ten,

and do I take it to heart?"
Winona laughed in spite of herself. Percy's complacency over small
achievements was proverbial. But she had higher ambitions, and the
cloud of depression soon settled down again. Her temper, not always
her strong point, displayed a degree of irritability that drove her family
to the verge of mutiny.
"Really, Winona, I don't remember you so fractious since you were
cutting your teeth!" complained her much-tried mother.
The days dragged slowly by. Winona had never before realized that
each hour could hold so many minutes. On the morning of the 15th she
came down to breakfast with dark rings round her eyes.
"I shall be glad to be put out of my misery!" she thought, as the
postman's rap-tap sounded at the door.
Mamie made a rush for the letter-box, and returned bearing a foolscap
envelope addressed to:
MISS WINONA WOODWARD, Highfield, Ashbourne, nr. Great
Marston.
Winona opened it with trembling fingers. But as she read, her face
flushed and her eyes sparkled.
"I have much pleasure in informing you" (so ran the letter) "that the
Governors of the Seaton High School have decided to award you