Won't it be fun? He's going to send you an Indian necklace, because we told him you'd been so kind to us, and your mother'd sent us such a lovely cake on Sadie's birthday. He's got it locked up in his cabin on the ship, but I don't think I ought to have told you, 'cause it's to be a surprise."
Miss Kaye had allowed a full hour for tea and talk, and at the end of that time the guests were asked to assemble in the large schoolroom for the distribution of prizes, which were to be given away by the Rector of Aberglyn. The room was prettily decorated with flowers, and on a table at one end lay a number of handsomely bound books. The children were obliged reluctantly to be separated from their parents, as it was necessary for them to sit in classes, and once more the members of the third form found themselves side by side. Mr. Edwards, the rector, made a short opening speech, complimenting both teachers and pupils on a year of industrious work, and said what pleasure it gave him to see the rows of bright happy young faces before him, and to know how much they had learnt at Heathercliffe House. He reminded them of the high standard in right and honour as well as knowledge which it was Miss Kaye's object to maintain there, and begged them to make the best possible use of their schooldays, upon which, he declared, they would often look back as the happiest time in their lives.
There were no competitive prizes among the little ones, each of whom was called up to receive a small present for good conduct, and when the rector had made some kindly remarks, he turned to the third class. The prizes were awarded according to the result of the examination, and of all the weekly marks gained during the year, the totals being added together. It was therefore a test both of correct memory and of steady application, and would show that the winner had worked hard for her laurels. The class knew that it must lie between Marian and Sylvia; no one else had the slightest chance; and the girls gazed eagerly at Mr. Edwards, waiting for the important announcement.
He held a beautifully illustrated edition of _British Ballads_ in his hand.
"This is the prize for English," he said, "and I have much pleasure in presenting it to Sylvia Lindsay, who, I am sure, must have worked with the greatest industry to gain it, and thoroughly deserves her success."
Everybody clapped as Sylvia walked up the room to receive her book, and she herself could scarcely believe her good fortune. She had never really expected to win, and for the moment her triumph was sweet. Poor Marian, whose face had fallen at the news, joined nevertheless in the applause, and Sylvia in her turn was able to give her a hearty clap as the rector declared her to be the best French scholar, and awarded her a copy of Lafontaine's _Fables_. Nina took the music prize, and Gwennie the one for neatness, punctuality, and general orderliness, which completed the list for the third class, and Mr. Edwards went on to the second class, ending with the first, where Mercy very appropriately came out head of the school.
Sylvia felt as if her brain were in a whirl. It was all as she had wished; she held her reward in her hand, and her father and mother had been there to see her claim it. Surely life could contain no greater joy! But who was standing up now, to make the closing speech?
It was Dr. Severn, and everyone who knew his story and Mercy's was anxious to hear him. He said only a few quiet words, but they were so concise and to the point that they lived for many years in the memories of some of those who listened to them. After congratulating the girls who had taken prizes, and urging all to fresh efforts, he spoke to those who had tried and had been unsuccessful.
"The greatest deeds in the world," he said, "have often been done by people who have failed not only once, but many times, yet have never let themselves be discouraged. Don't stop trying, but, on the other hand, don't look at the prize as the chief end of your striving. It's a poor thing, after all, compared with the gain to your character that every honest endeavour will bring you. Remember, too, that we can't all have the post of honour; somebody has to stand aside and take second best, and the one who can do it the most bravely and generously is winning what is far more worth having than a prettily bound book.
You learn many lessons at Heathercliffe House, but believe me the greatest of them is the power to give up your own way sometimes, and to be happy in the pleasure and success of others. It mayn't seem easy just at first, but I can assure you it brings the best and most lasting happiness in the end. I read a few lines a day or two ago that explain just what I mean, so I'm going to say them to you:
'Our chiefest duty here below Is not the seeming great to do, That the vain world may pause to see; But in steadfast humility To walk the common walk, and bear The thousand things, the trifling care, In love, with wisdom, patiently.
Thus each one in his narrow groove The great world nearer God may move.'"
As Sylvia listened, her small triumph seemed to fade away into something higher and better, and almost unconsciously she and Marian clasped hands, their rivalry forgotten in a nobler ideal. All the events of the school year passed rapidly through her memory: she was changed greatly from the rather selfish little girl who had given so cold a welcome to her guests at that wet-day party, and as her mother afterwards kissed her and praised her for her success, it was with a heartfelt meaning in her words that she said:
"I did try hard the whole time, just to please you and Father. I didn't want to come to school at all, but I'm glad you made me. I like it now most immensely, and I simply can't tell you how very extremely glad I am that you didn't choose anywhere else, but sent me here to Miss Kaye's!"