It was Burns who wrote his wish that some power would give us the
ability to see ourselves from other people's point of view. If Hazel
Thorne had received this gift she would not have remained so steeped in
ignorance, but gazing at herself through Beatrice Lambent's eyes, have
seen that she had been guilty of an almost deadly sin.
For what could have been more heinous than for "a young person in her
station in life," as Miss Beatrice afterwards said, to presume to take
the squire's arm, an arm that Beatrice looked upon as sacred, and
thought quite polluted by the touch of one who was only a
schoolmistress, and consequently not likely to possess feelings similar
to her own?
All the same, though, Hazel did touch the sacred limb, and allowed
herself to be taken into the drawing-room, which Mrs Canninge had just
entered, and was now presiding at a tea-table.
"You'll let me do that for you, Miss Burge," she had said. "You must be
tired out."
"Well, really and truly, Mrs Canninge, my poor legs do ache to such an
extent," said Miss Burge confidentially, "that I feel a'most ready to
drop."
"That you must, indeed," said Mrs Canninge, smiling, as the little body
toddled to a large cane arm-chair, and plumped herself down so
vigorously that the cane chair uttered a loud protest, and after giving
way in an elastic manner, kept on uttering little squeaks and creaks,
somewhat after the fashion of Miss Feelier Potts, as it made efforts to
recover itself.
Meanwhile little Miss Burge sat there smiling gratefully, and enjoying
her rest, as she gently rocked herself to and fro rubbing her hands in
regular twin motion backwards and forwards along her aching legs.
"You see, Mrs Canninge--and sugar, please--three lumps. Yes, I always
take cream, it do improve the tea so--you see my brother takes so much
interest in the schools, and he'd set his mind upon the boys and girls
enjoying themselves, that it would have been a sin and a shame not to
have done one's best to help him; but, oh my! It has been a job."
"I'm sure you must have worked like a slave, Miss Burge," said Mrs
Canninge, handing the tea, "and we ought all to be very grateful to you
and your brother."
"Oh, it isn't me, my dear," said Miss Burge (fortunately neither Miss
Lambent nor Beatrice was at hand to hear Mrs Canninge addressed as "my
dear")--"it is all my brother. He hasn't a bit of pride in him. He
says, you know, Mrs Canninge, he first learned to read and write at
Plumton School, and it's been so useful to him that--"
"Excuse me. Miss Burge, I have not my best glasses with me, is not this
Miss--Miss--?"
"Thorne, yes, Mrs Canninge, and it's very kind of your son to bring the
poor dear in to have some tea."
Mrs Canninge looked rather curiously at Hazel Thorne, as her son
brought her into the drawing-room. If she had been plain and ordinary
looking, Mrs Canninge would have thought nothing of the incident; but
then Hazel Thorne was neither plain nor ordinary, and, what was more,
she did not seem in the slightest degree oppressed by the novelty of the
situation, but chatted quietly to her companion, who was the more
conscious of the two.
"Oh, here is my mother," he said. "Mother dear, I have brought you an
exhausted slave; pray feed and rest her, or she will be throwing off the
Plumton chains, and escaping to some place where they will treat her
better. Miss Thorne, this is my mother, Mrs Canninge."
"I am very glad to know you, Miss Thorne," said Mrs Canninge quietly;
and Hazel looked her full in the eyes before lowering her own, and
bending slightly, for there was a something in Mrs Canninge's way that
was different to her son's. George Canninge had spoken to her as if she
were his equal, while his mother had smiled, spoken kindly, and hastened
to pour out some tea; but Hazel felt and knew that it was not in the
same way as she would have spoken and acted towards one of her own set.
The shade of difference was very slight, but it was marked, and George
Canninge noted it as well, though it was lost upon little Miss Burge,
who turned to Hazel, and began to prattle away directly.
"Ah, that's right, Mr Canninge, I am glad you have brought Miss Thorne
in. She has been regularly fagged to death. I never did see any one
work so."
"Miss Thorne has been indefatigable," said the squire; "and, by-the-way,
Miss Thorne, I think your mamma is somewhere here. I'll go and find
her."
Hazel was growing cold, but this little gentlemanly attention made her
smile again as she bowed her thanks, and George Canninge was just
leaving the room, when a familiar voice was heard, and Mr William Forth
Burge appeared with Mrs Thorne, handing her in very carefully, and
talking loudly all the while, as he brought her into a place where he
was sure there would be no draught, and then fetched her some tea and
cake.
"Well, Mr Burge," cried George Canninge, for he felt conscious that his
mother was freezing the current of conversation, "what are we to call
it, a success or a failure?"
Mr William Forth Burge opened his mouth and stared, but for a few
moments no words came.
"I--thought it was a big success, Mr Canninge, sir," he said at last.
"I meant it to be, you know."
"And so it is. It is the grandest and the jolliest school-treat I ever
saw, and if the young dogs and doggesses are not--"
"Har--ha--ha--ha--ha--ha!"
"Why, what are you laughing at?"
"That's a good one, sir. Young doggesses, sir," roared Mr William
Forth Burge; but only to become preternaturally solemn directly, as he
saw that no one else even smiled.
"I was only going to say that if they don't feel grateful for all this
kindness, they--"
"Oh, there's Mr Chute outside, I told him to come in and get a cup.
You won't mind for once, Mrs Canninge, and your son, will you? It's a
holiday-time, and I want everybody to be pleased."
"Oh, certainly not, pray ask him in, Mr Burge," said Mrs Canninge.
"My son and I both wish the school people to thoroughly enjoy
themselves. Miss Thorne, your cup is empty, pray let me get you some
more tea."
Hazel was about to decline, for Mrs Canninge's words made her heart
sink. She had felt so happy during the past two hours, and a warm
feeling of gratitude had sprung up in her breast towards George Canninge
for his gentlemanly courtesy and attention; but Mrs Canninge was, in
that quiet way that some ladies can adopt, showing her that she belonged
to a different grade of society, towards whom she was acting the part of
lady patroness.
For the moment a feeling of resentment sprang up in her breast. She
felt that Mrs Canninge was trying to give her a lesson--a lesson that
she did not need.
The sensation of humiliation was, however, but momentary, and smiling to
herself, she quietly made up her mind to show the lady patroness that
she had not forgotten her position, and did not need the lesson.
The opportunity came instantly, for Mr William Forth Burge returned,
bringing in poor Mr Chute, who had been gnashing his teeth, this time
with the teeth themselves, and growing more and more wroth at having
been neglected. He had worked as hard as any one, but he was not taken
into the drawing-room by young squires, and petted and made much of.
Neither of the Misses Lambent came and took his arm, for they were
holding aloof altogether, and pretending to be deeply interested in the
prizes won by Feelier Potts and Ann Straggalls. Taken altogether, Mr
Chute was fast getting up to the point when people's indignation boils
over. He was hungry, thirsty, tired, and suffering besides from a
sudden attack of longing such as he had never felt before. He wanted to
be beside Hazel Thorne, to talk to her, though had he been by her side
not a word would have come. He wanted to look at her, and hear her
talk. He wanted to breathe the same air that she was breathing, and to
see her every act and look, and she had been carried off by young Mr
George Canninge, while he, Samuel Chute, who was spoken of as such a
clever master, and had been so strongly recommended, was left out in the
cold.
Mr Samuel Chute felt in that disposition of mind which comes over most
young men some time in their vealy stage, when the whole world is looked
upon as going dead against them, because they cannot possess some one
particular object; when they rapidly run over the various courses that
seem alone open to them, and which embrace enlisting, going to sea, to
the dogs, or plunging into a river or canal--at a time when a man is
handy with a boat-hook to fish them out.
Mr Chute, then, was not happy, and although he had been asked to go up
to the house to partake of some refreshment he would not go, but stalked
off into the shrubbery, and gnashed his teeth for a whole minute amongst
the rhododendrons, after which he went into a deeper shade where it was
all laurels, and as there was no one looking, gave such a stamp upon the
ground as hurt his foot in his new boot.
It was in vain that the band, invigorated by Mr William Forth Burge's
beer, was playing its happiest air, and the big drum had run wild, the
trombone following suit to such an extent that it was cutting and
slashing about in a way that was dangerous to the boys, while the
leading comet was leading indeed--half a bar ahead. It was in vain that
sweet music sought to woo Mr Chute back to the lawn; for a whole five
minutes he would not stir, preferring to suffer in solitude.
But Mr Samuel Chute was after all human, and in spite of himself he
found that he was gradually drawn to the drawing-room window. Here he
was seen by Mr William Forth Burge, who came out, seized and softened
him; and as the schoolmaster was marched in he felt decidedly better,
and began to think of condescending to live.
"May I give you some tea, Mr Chute?" said Mrs Canninge politely.
"If you please, ma'am," said Chute, who felt better still on noting that
young Mr George Canninge was not seated at Hazel Thorne's side.
"Let's see: we must find you a seat, Mr Chute," said Mr William Forth
Burge heartily, as he glanced round.
"There is room here, Mr Burge," said Hazel, moving a little farther
along the settee, and Mr Chute's ease was complete, for the tea he
drank was the most delicious he had ever tasted in his life, and he
could have gone on eating bread-and-butter for an hour.
He said very little, and Hazel Thorne had to make up for it by chatting
pleasantly about the proceedings, till a message came by one of the
boys, and Mr Chute was fetched away, leaving the new mistress to the
tender mercies of the young squire--at least that is how he put it; but
he felt as he told himself, quite a new man.
George Canninge came to Hazel's side as soon as Chute had gone, and
stood talking to her quietly, and in a way that would have satisfied the
most exacting; but he had been dealing with a sensitive plant. At first
she had seemed to rejoice in the warmth of his social sunshine, but Mrs
Canninge had metaphorically stretched forth a rude hand and touched her
leaves, with the result that they shrank and looked withered; and, try
as he would, he found her quiet, distant and constrained.
"But she can be different," he said to himself as at last Hazel rose,
and, crossing to Miss Burge, asked her permission to go.
"Oh lor', yes, my dear, go when you think best; for you must be terribly
tired."
Hazel assured her that she was greatly rested now, and bowing to Mrs
Canninge she left the room, without disturbing her mother, who was
holding Mr William Forth Burge with an eye, and recounting to him a
long, true, and particular account of her early life, the position she
had occupied, and the ages and dates of the various illnesses of all her
children, including also the fact that her son Percy was growing
wonderfully like what his father had been when she first met him at one
of the Lord Mayor's balls.
"And they do say," sighed Mrs Thorne, "that my daughter is growing
greatly like what I used to be."
Meanwhile Hazel passed out into the grounds, where she was encountered
almost directly by Beatrice Lambent, who, assuming utter ignorance of
where the schoolmistress had been, exclaimed--
"Oh, you are there. Miss Thorne. Pray--pray get back to the children.
My brother has been astonished at your having left them for so long."
People fight with different weapons to those used of old, but they are
quite as sharp.