The Prodigal Daughter (15 page)

Read The Prodigal Daughter Online

Authors: Jeffrey Archer

Tags: #Children of immigrants, #Children of immigrants - United States, #Westerns, #General, #Romance, #Sagas, #Fiction, #Businesswomen

BOOK: The Prodigal Daughter
9.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

A few davs later
the headmistress called for her. Florentyna feared it would take longer to
regain her respect, however determined she was to do so. When Florentyna
arrived at her study, the tiny, immaculately dressed woman gave her a friendly
smile and motioned to a comfortable seat by her side.

“You must have,
been very disappointed by the election results.”

“Yes, Miss
Allen,” said Florentyna, assuming she was to receive further chastisement.

97

“But by all
accounts you have learned greatly from the experience and I suspect you will
be wanting
to make amends.”

“It’s too late,
Miss Allen. I leave at the end of the year and can now never be president.”

“True,
true.
So we must look for other mountains to climb. I retire at the end of the year,
having been headmistress for twenty-five years, and I confess there is little
left that I wish to achieve. The boys and girls of Latin have excellent
admission records to Harvard, Yale. Radcliffe and Smith, and we have always
been better than every other school in Illinois and as good as any on the East
Coast. However, there is one achievement that has eluded me.”

“What’s that,
Miss Allen?”

“The boys have
won every major scholarship to the Ivy League universities at least once,
Princeton three times, but one scholarship has eluded the girls for a quarter
of a century. That is the James Adams Woolson Prize Scholarship in the Classics
at Radcliffe. I wish to enter your name for that scholarship. Should you win
the prize, my cup will be full.”

“I would like to
try,” said Florentyna, “but my record lately-”

“Indeed,” said
the headmistress, “but as Mrs. Churchill pointed out to Winston when he was
surprisingly beaten in an election, ‘That may yet turn out to be a blessing in
disguise.”‘

“‘Some
dispuise.”‘
They both smiled.

That night,
Florentyna studied the entry form for the James A-dams Woolson Prize. The
scholarship was open to every girl in America between the ages of sixteen and
eighteen on July I of that ~ear. There were three papers, one for Latin, one
for Greek and a general paper on current affairs.

During the
crisuing weeks, Florentyna spoke only Latin and Greek to Miss I’redgold before
breakfast, and every weekend Miss Allen assigned her three general questions to
be completed by the following Monday morning. As the examination day drew
nearer, Florentyna became aware that the hopes of the whole school weit with
her. She sat awake at night with Cicero, Virgil, Plato and Aristotle, and every
morning after breakfast she would write five hundred words on such varied
subjects as the Twenty-second Amendment, the significance of President Truman’s
power over Congress during the Korean War-even on the impact that television
would have in going nationwide.

At the end of
each day, Miss Tredgold checked through Florentyna’s work, adding footnotes and
comments before they would both collapse into bed.
only
to be up at six-thirty the next morning to work their way through further old
scholarship examination papers. Far from gaining confidence, Florentyna
confided to Miss Tredgold that she became more frightened as each day passed.

The prize exam
was set for early March at Radcliffe, and on the eve of departure day
Florentyna unlocked her bottom drawer and selected her favorite of the New York
shirts. Miss Tredgold accompanied her to the station and the few words they
spoke on the way were in Greek. Her final words were: “Don’t spend the longest
time on the easiest question.”

When thev
reached the platform, Florentyna felt an arrn encircle her waist and a rose
appeared in front of her.

“Edward, you
nut.”

“That is not the
way to address the president of the Student Council.

Don’t bother to
come back if you fail to win the Woolson Prize,” he said, and kissed her on the
check.

Neither of them
noticed the smile on Miss Tredgold’s face.

Florentyna found
a car that was virtually empty. She would remember very little of the journey,
for she rarely looked up from her copy of the Oresteia.

When she arrived
in Boston, she was met by a Ford “Woody” station wagon, which took her and four
other girls who must have been on the same train to the Radcliffe yard. During
the journey spasmodic exchanges of polite conversation punctuated long, tense
silences. Florentyna was relieved to find that she had been put in a residential
house at 55 Garden Street in a room of her own: she hoped she would be able to
conceal how nervous she was.

At six o’clock
the girls all met in Longfellow Hall, where the dean of instruction, Mrs. Wilma
Kirby-Miller, reviewed the details of the examination, “Tomorrow, ladies,
between nine and twelve, you will write the Latin paper, and in the afternoon
between three and six, the Greek paper. The following morning you will complete
the examination with the general paper on current affairs. It would be foolish
to wish everyone success, as you cannot all expect to win the Woolson Prize, so
I will only express the hope that when you have completed the three papers,
each and every one of you will feel that you could not have done better.”

Florentyna
returned to her room in Garden Street conscious of how little she knew and
feeling very lonely.
She went down to the ground floor and called her
mother and Miss Tredgold on the pay phone, The next morning she woke at three
and 99 read a few pages of Aristotle’s Politics, but nothing would stick. When
she came downstairs at seven, she walked around Radcliffe Yard several times
before going to Agassiz House for breakfast. She found two telegrams awaiting
her, one from her father wishing her luck and inviting her to join him for a
trip to Europe in the summer. The second, from Miss Tredgold, read: “The only
thing we have to fear is fear itself.”

After breakfast,
she walked once again around the yard, this time with several other girls,
before taking her place in Longfellow Hall. Two hundred forty-three girls
waited for the clock to chime nine, when the proctors allowed them to open the
little brown envelopes placed on the desk in front of them. Florentyna read
through the Latin paper once quickly and then again carefully, before selecting
those questions that she felt best equipped to answer. At twelve the clock
struck again and her blue books were taken away from her. She returned to her
room and read Greek for two hours, eating a solitary Hershey bar for lunch. In
the afternoon she attempted three questions in Greek. At six she was penning
emendations when the paper had to be handed in. She walked back to her little
room in Garden Street exhausted, fell onto the narrow bed and didn’t stir until
it was time to eat. Over a late dinner, she listened to the same conversations
with different accents from Philadelphia to Houston, and from Detroit to
Atlanta: it was comforting to discover that everyone was as nervous about the
outcome of the examination as she was. Florentyna knew that almost everyone who
took the scholarship examination would be offered a place at Radcliffe, and
twenty-two could be awarded scholarships; but only one would win the James
Adams Woolson Prize.

On the second
day she opened the brown envelope containing the general paper fearing the
worst but relaxed a little when she read the first question: “What changes
would have taken place in America if the Twenty-second Amendment had been
passed before Roosevelt became President?”

She began to
write furiously.

On Florentyna’s
return to Chicago, Miss Treelgold was standing on the platform waiting for her.

“I shall not ask
if you consider you have won the prize, my dear, only it you did as well as you
had hoped.”

“Yes,” said
Florentyna, after some thought. “If I don’t win a scholarship, it will be
because I am not good enough.”

“You can ask for
no more, child, and neither can 1, so the time has come to tell you that I
shall be returning to England in July.”

“Why?” said
Florentyna, stunned.

“What do you
imagine there is left for me to do for you, now that you’re off to university?
I have been offered the post of head of the classics department at a girls’
school in the
west country
of F.ngland, starting in
September, and I have accepted. “

“‘You could not
leave me ifyou knew how much I loved you
. ,

Miss Trettgold
smiled at the quotation and produced the next line. “
‘it
is because of how much I love you that I must now leave you, Perdano.”‘

Florentyrta took
her hand, and Miss Tredgold smiled at the beautiful young woman who could
already make men’s heads turn as the two women passed by.

The next few
weeks at school were not easy for Florentyna as she waited for the exam
results. She tried to assure Edward that at least lie was certain to gain a
place at Harvard.

“They have more
sports fields than lecture halls,” she teased, so you can’t fail.”

He could fail
and she knew it, and as each day passed, the hopes of both turned to fears.
Florentyna had been told that the results of the examination would he known on
April 14. On that morning the headmistress called Florentyna to her study and
sat her in a comer of the room while she called the registrar at Radcliffe. The
registrar already had several people holding to speak to her. At last she took
Miss Allen’s call.

“Would you be
kind enough to let me know if a Miss Florentyna Rosnovski has won a scholarship
to Radcliffe?” asked the headmistress.

There was a long
pause. “How do you spell that name?”

“R-0-S-N-0-V-S-K-U’

Another
pause.
Florentyna clenched her fist. Then the registrar’s voice, audible to them both,
came over the line: “No. I am sorry to tell you that Miss Rosnovski’s name is
not among the list of scholars, but more than seventy percent of those who took
the scholarship examination will be offered a place at Radcliffe and will be
hearing from us in the next few days.”

Neither Miss
Allen nor Florentyna could mask their disappointment. As Florentyna came out of
the study she found Edward waiting for her. He threw his arms around her and
almost shouted, “I’m going to Harvard.
And how about you?
Did you win the Woolson?” But he could see the answer in 101 her face. “I’m
sorry,” he said. “How thoughtless of me,” and held her in his arms as the tears
came. Some younger girls who passed them giggled. Edward took her home and she,
Miss Tredgold and her mother ate dinner together in silence.

Two weeks later,
on Parents’ Day, Miss Allen presented Florentyna with the school Classics
Prize, but it was no consolation. Hor mother and Miss Tredgold applauded
politely, but Florentyna had told her father not to come to Chicago as there
was nothing particular to celebrate.

After the
presentation, Miss Allen tapped the lectern in front of her before she started
to speak. “In all my years at Girls Latin,” said the headmistress in clear, resonant
tones, “it has been no secret that I wanted a pupil to win the James Adams
Woolson Prize Scholarship to Radcliffe.”

Florentyna
stared down at the wooden floorboard between her feet. “And this year,”
continued Miss Allen, “I was convinced that we had produced our finest scholar
in twenty-five years and that my dream would be realized.

Two weeks ago, I
phoned Radcliffe to discover our entrant had not won a scholarship,
But
today I received a telegram that is nevertheless worth
reading to you.”

Florentyna sat
back, hoping her father was not responsible for some embarrassing message of
congratulation.

Miss Ailen put
on her reading spectacles. “‘Name of Florentyna Rosnovski not announced among
general scholars because happy to inforin you she is winner of James Adams
Woolson Pri ze. Please telegraph acceptance.”‘ The room erupted as pupils and
parents cheered. Miss Allen raised a hand, and the hall fell silent. “After
twenty-five years I should have remembered that the Woolson is always announced
separately at a later day. You must put it down to old age.” There was a polite
ripple of laughter before Miss Allen continued: “There are those of us here who
believe that Florentyna will go on to serve her college and country in a manner
that can only reflect well upon this school. I now have only one wish left:
that I live long enough to witness it.”

Florentyria
stood and looked toward her mother. Large tears were coursing down Zaphia’s
cheeks.

No one present
would have realized that the lady seated bolt upright next to Zaphia, staring
straight ahead, was reveling in the applause.

Much happiness
and sadness now surrounded Florentyna, but nothing was to compare with her
farewell to Miss Tredgold. On the train journey from Chicago to New York,
during which Fl
,orentyna
triz!d to express her love
and gratitude, she handed the older woman an envelope.

“What’s this,
child’?” asked Miss Tredgold.

“The four
thousand shares of the Baron Group which we have earned over the past four
years.”

Other books

Bury Your Dead by Louise Penny
Montaro Caine by Sidney Poitier
03-Savage Moon by Chris Simms
The Darkening Hour by Penny Hancock
The Troop by Nick Cutter
Remains to be Seen by J.M. Gregson
The Day the World Went Loki by Robert J. Harris
I Am Phantom by Sean Fletcher
Three Dog Day by Lia Farrell