Winona dreaded returning home.  In spite of the difficulty of the work, the High School had opened a fresh world to her.  She could never again be content with the old rut.  Miss Harmon’s dull lessons would be intolerable, and life without Garnet’s friendship would seem a blank.  The companionship of her three little sisters was totally inadequate for a girl who was fast growing up.  She shrank from speculating how her mother would receive the bad news.  Mrs. Woodward was one of those parents who expect their children to gain the prizes which they were incapable of winning for themselves.  She had claimed a kind of second-hand credit in her daughter’s triumph.  Winona knew from past experience that so keen a disappointment would involve a string of reproaches, regrets and fretting.  She would probably never hear the last of it.  The family hopes had been pinned upon her success, and to frustrate them was to court utter disgrace.  For the present she must live with this sword of Damocles hanging over her head, but she hoped the Governors would decide the matter speedily, and put her out of her misery.

There is one virtue in a supreme trouble—­it dwarfs all minor griefs.  Percy’s secret, which had been felt as a continual burden, seemed to sink into comparative obscurity, and the worry of school work and the dread of Miss Huntley’s sarcasm were mere flies in the ointment.  Winona never quite knew how she got through the week that followed.  It stayed afterwards in her memory as a period of black darkness, a valley of humiliation, in which her old childish self slipped away, and a new, stronger and more capable personality was born to face the future.  She had resigned herself so utterly to the inevitable, that when at last Miss Bishop’s summons came, she was able to walk quite calmly into the study.  The Principal was seated as usual at her bureau; Winona’s entrance examination papers lay before her.  Her manner was non-committal; her blue eyes looked even more penetrating than usual.

“You will have been wondering what was going to happen about the matter of the scholarship,” she began.

“Yes, Miss Bishop,” answered Winona meekly.  She did not add that she had spent eight days in a mental purgatory.

“I of course placed the facts before the Governors, and we at once communicated with the parents of Marjorie Kaye.  We find, however, that in the meantime she has been elected a scholar of the Maria Harvey Foundation, and will therefore be unable to accept this scholarship.  Her papers and those of Garnet Emerson were the only ones of outstanding merit.  In re-examining the remaining eighteen we find a uniform level of mediocrity.  As regards your set of papers, the general standard is low, with one exception.  We consider that your essay on Lady Jane Grey shows an originality and a capacity for thought which may be worthy of training.  On the strength of this—­and this alone—­the Governors have decided to