"Did I--I--tell you that I had had a letter from Mr Geringer?"
"No," said Hazel quickly. "Surely you are not corresponding with him?"
"Oh, no, my dear; I only answered his letters."
"Answered his letters?"
"Yes, my dear; he said he was coming down to see us, if I would give my
consent, and of course I did."
"Oh, mother, dear mother, how could you be so foolish?"
"Foolish, Hazel?"
"Yes, dear. He must not come. I could not see him. Why can he not
leave me here in peace?"
"I--I--will not be spoken to like this by my own child!" cried Mrs
Thorne. "It is cruel; it is wicked of you, Hazel. You not only degrade
me to this terrible life, but you speak to me as if I were so much dirt
under your feet. It is cruel; it is disgraceful; it is base."
"Mother, dear mother," cried Hazel, whose face was aflame with
mortification.
"No, no, don't touch me; don't come near me; I cannot bear it. Foolish?
What have I done that Heaven should have given me such a cruel child?"
By this time Hazel's arms were round her mother's neck, and her cheek
laid upon her bosom, but it was long before Mrs Thorne would consent to
the embrace, and leave off sobbing and wringing her hands.
"When you might be rolling in your carriage, and have every luxury in
the land."
"But I want us to be independent, dear. We might be so happy here."
"Happy?" exclaimed Mrs Thorne, with a hysterical laugh. "Happy--here?"
At last after similar scenes she would grow weary and forgive her child
for her cruelty, and there would be a little peace, giving Hazel an
opportunity to attend to some domestic work, and to devote an hour to
the teaching of her little sisters; but there would be tears shed at
night, and a prayer offered up for strength and patience to conquer in
the end.
The school affairs went steadily on, and the girls settled down and
began to forget the excitement of Mr William Forth Burge's party. That
gentleman called once during school-hours, shook hands very warmly, and
stopped talking till Hazel thought he would never go.
Miss Burge came regularly on week-days and petitioned to be allowed to
take a class sometimes--a petition that was of course granted, but not
with very satisfactory results, for poor little Miss Burge's discipline
was of the very mildest nature, and as she preferred taking the class
that held Miss Feelier Potts and Ann Straggalls, the attention of the
mistress had to be very frequently called to maintain order.
"I really don't know how you do it, my dear, I don't indeed," said the
little lady; "the girls all like you, and yet they seem afraid of you as
well. I declare I quite shrink from you when you look so stern."
"I hope you like me as well, Miss Burge," said Hazel, smiling.
"That I do indeed, my dear, and so does my brother. He's always talking
about you. I declare, my dear, I'm quite surprised sometimes to find
how much he thinks about you."
"It is very kind of Mr Burge," said Hazel naively; "and as he is so
proud of the schools, pray assure him that I will spare no pains to get
the girls well forward by the examination day."
"I needn't tell him anything of the sort," said Miss Burge; "he knows
you will, and he told Mr Lambent that we ought to be very glad to have
got such a mistress for our schools."
"You are too partial, Miss Burge," said Hazel, smiling.
"That I _am not_!" said the little lady in the most decisive of tones;
"and now I must go, and I'm going to call in on your mamma, and try and
cheer her up a bit, poor soul, for it must be very lonely for her while
you are in the schools and, lor! if here ain't the two Misses Lambent."
There was a very affectionate greeting at the door, and then Miss Burge
went out, and the two Misses Lambent came in, looking very stiff and
uncompromising as soon as they were alone with Hazel.
"How do you do. Miss Thorne?" said Miss Lambent in a very chilling way;
and Miss Beatrice echoed her words, and finished their freezing as they
fell.
"Are you going to take a class, Beatrice?" said Miss Lambent.
"No, sister, I thought that I would say a few words to Miss Thorne,
unless you would prefer speaking."
"No, sister, I think you had better speak," said Miss Lambent austerely;
"and--tut--tut--tut! I extremely regret this! such a thing never
occurred in the school before. Miss Thorne, I will not trouble my
brother by making any report of this, but I must request you to preserve
better discipline in the school."
"Discipline, ma'am! I thought the girls were very quiet."
"I must request that you do not speak to me, the vicar's sister, in so
haughty a tone, Miss Thorne."
"I beg your pardon, ma'am; I wish to be respectful," said Hazel humbly.
"But your ways are not respectful, and I must point out to you that both
upon week-days and Sundays the behaviour of the girls has not been good.
I distinctly saw that child putting out her tongue at me--that girl--
Potts, I think, is her name."
"I will certainly speak to the child, ma'am," said Hazel quietly, though
a feeling of indignation made the blood flush to her cheeks.
"I request that you do, and also punish her severely, Miss Thorne,"
continued Miss Lambent who, being wound up, felt that this was a
favourable opportunity for going on striking.
"And now, as I am speaking, I will make a few remarks to you upon a
subject that I was about to leave to my sister."
"I will speak to Miss Thorne upon that matter, sister," said Miss
Beatrice.
"As I am speaking to Miss Thorne, I will continue, sister," replied Miss
Lambent. "The fact is, Miss Thorne, my sister and I entertain the most
sincere wish for your welfare."
Hazel bowed.
"And it is only after mature deliberation that we have come to the
conclusion that it is our absolute duty as Christian ladies to speak to
you--"
"Upon matters that very nearly concern your position as the
schoolmistress--"
"Of Plumton All Saints," said Miss Lambent. "Excuse me, sister, I
prefer speaking to Miss Thorne myself."
Hazel looked from one to the other, wondering what was the head and
front of her offending.
"The fact is, Miss Thorne, my sister and I sincerely wish--most
sincerely I may say--wish that you may be successful here, and in due
time--say in due time--if such an affair should be in progress, marry in
accordance with your station in life and--Hush, Miss Thorne! Do not
speak, I insist. I see that you are growing angry, so I beg that you
will be silent, and receive my words--our words--as being meant for your
benefit."
"I do not understand you, madam," said Hazel, in spite of the
prohibition.
"Then I will speak more plainly--we will speak more plainly, Miss
Thorne, and tell you that your conduct since you have been here has not
been marked by the discretion that should be a decided feature in the
acts of a young person in your position."
"Madam, I--!"
"Silence, Miss Thorne!" cried Miss Beatrice; and the young mistress's
cheeks were now aflame with indignation. "I will finish, sister
Rebecca," she continued. "For your own sake we wish you to be more
guarded, and to remember what is expected of a young person in your
position. From the very first Sunday that you came. Miss Thorne, we
have noted a tendency--innocent enough, no doubt--towards trying to
attract the attention of the other sex."
"Indeed, madam--"
"Silence, Miss Thorne, and once more I beg that you will not adopt that
haughty tone when addressing the vicar's sisters."
Hazel remained silent, and just at that moment, as ill-luck had it, the
door opened and Mr Chute stepped in, saw the ladies, and stepped out
again.
"You see," said Miss Beatrice with triumph in her tones, as the sisters
exchanged meaning glances, while Hazel maintained an indignant silence,
"such things are not seemly in any schoolmistress, and certainly not in
the mistress of Plumton All Saints' School."
"There was the gentleman on the first Sunday," said Miss Lambent cutting
in so as to preclude her sister speaking; "Mr Chute comes in a great
deal too often; we did not at all approve of your conduct when Mr
Canninge spoke to you at the school treat; and, taken altogether, my
sister and I felt it to be our duty to--"
At that moment there was a sharp tap at the door, and two of the bigger
girls rushed to open it, orders being forgotten as "teacher" was so
busy, and Feelier Potts triumphed, throwing open the door, and revealing
the round, smiling features of Mr William Forth Burge--features which
ceased to smile as he realised the fact that the vicar's sisters were
there.
"Oh, isn't Miss Burge here?" he said.
"No, sir, plee, sir. Miss Burge goed ever so long ago."
"Oh, thank you. Good-day," said Mr William Forth Burge hastily; then
raising his hat he walked on, and the door closed very slowly. Miss
Feelier Potts finding an opportunity to make a face at a passing boy
through the last six inches of slit between door and jamb, to which the
young gentleman replied by throwing a stone with a smart rap against the
panels.
Miss Lambent's eyes nearly closed, and as the girls buzzed and went on
with their lessons, staring hard the while. Hazel Thorne was asking
herself whether this would be the last week of her stay in Plumton, for
she felt that after this indignity it would be impossible for her to
retain her post. Her heart beat fast, her cheeks were alternately white
and scarlet with shame and mortification, and her goaded spirit rose as
she longed to sharply chastise those who degraded her by their unwomanly
charges with their own weapon--the tongue.
But she could not speak--she dared not for fear that the anger and
indignation that were choking her should find vent in hysterical sobs
and tears.
This she could not bear, for it would have been humiliating herself
before her tormentors. No; she felt that they might say what they
liked: she would not stoop to answer; and seeing that they had the poor
girl at their mercy, the sisters took it in turns to deliver a lecture
upon the unseemly behaviour of a young person in her position, exhorting
her to remember the greatness of her charge, and the probabilities of
the girls taking their cue from their mistress.
Of course, Miss Lambent did not make use of the objectionable theatrical
word _cue_--it is doubtful whether she had ever heard it but she managed
to express the petty vindictive spite that she felt against the young
mistress for her grievous sin in receiving so much attention from Mr
William Forth Burge, whose vulgarity she was quite ready to forgive,
should he have made her an offer; and Beatrice's eyes flashed as she
felt her own pulses thrill with satisfaction at the way in which she was
metaphorically trampling under foot this impertinent stranger who had
dared to take Mr Canninge's arm.
"And now. Miss Thorne," said Miss Lambent, in conclusion, "we will
leave you to think over what we have said, and we trust that it will
have due effect."
"Making you see how foolishly you have behaved," put in Miss Beatrice.
"And that you will take it as a warning. Here is a book that we have
brought you. Take it, read it and inwardly digest its beautiful
teachings. Good morning."
Hazel took the book mechanically, and her eyes lit upon its title--"The
Dairyman's Daughter." Then she started and coloured painfully again,
beneath the searching, triumphant glances of the sisters, who seemed to
glory in her humiliation, for once more there was a quiet tap at the
door, the latch clicked, and Miss Lambent said to herself, "Another
gentleman."
She was quite right. Another gentleman stepped into the school--his
mission to see Miss Thorne.