"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 grat.i.tude 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 ca.n.a.l--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-b.u.t.ter 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 a.s.sured 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 b.a.l.l.s.

"And they do say," sighed Mrs Thorne, "that my daughter is growing greatly like what I used to be."

Meanwhile Hazel pa.s.sed out into the grounds, where she was encountered almost directly by Beatrice Lambent, who, a.s.suming 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.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

TAKEN TO TASK.

There was too much sheer hard work at Plumton School for Hazel Thorne to have much time for thoughts of anything but business. She had seen no more of Archibald Graves, but she was never outside the house without feeling nervous and in full expectation of meeting him; but as the days wore on she began to hope that her firm behaviour had not been without its effect.

For a day or two she had felt agitated, and in the solitude of her own room she had more than once wept bitterly for her love, but they were tears such as are shed for the past and gone. There was no hope in them: they brought neither relief nor thought of the future. Hazel Thorne's sorrow was for a dead love, and she preferred to think of Archibald Graves as the ideal lover of her girlish heart, not as the real suitor who had come to her now that she was a woman, who had been tried in the fire of adversity, and been found base.

Hazel Thorne's business matters were two-fold--the business of the school, and the domestic affairs.

With the former she was rapidly progressing. The feeling of novelty had worn off and she no longer felt afraid of being able to maintain her position among so many girls, nor wondered what the pupil-teachers were saying whenever they whispered together; but she was afraid of Mr Samuel Chute, who would come round to the door much more often than necessary, to borrow something, or ask a question or two.

The domestic affairs were harder to get over because they appealed strongly to the heart, and scarcely a day pa.s.sed without some new trouble.

To a young girl like Hazel, after the first pangs, there was enough elasticity to make her feel happy enough in her new home. The rooms were small, the furniture common, but there was always that pleasant feeling of seeing, so to speak, the place grow. Her woman's taste set her busily at work making little things to brighten the rooms. Now a few pence were spent in pots of musk for the windows. Next there was a large scarlet geranium in full blossom that cost the extravagant sum of sixpence; then blinds were made for the windows. A dozen such little things were done week by week, and as each triumph was achieved, and the place grew daily brighter and more tasty and refined, a feeling of satisfaction would come at times into her breast in spite of the wet-blanketism that was always being laid over everything by Mrs Thorne.

"It is not that I mind the humble cottage, and the pitifully mean furniture, Hazel, my dear," sighed Mrs Thorne, "anything would do for me. I am getting an old woman now."

"No, no, dear," said Hazel. "You are not old; and you are far better than you were."

"You don't know, Hazel. I alone feel the worm eating away at the bud of my life; but as I was saying, I don't mind; it is for you I think and weep."

"Then why think and weep, mamma dear?--there, you see I said mamma this time."

"Don't say mamma to please me, Hazel I am only your poor helpless, burdensome mother, now. You say, why think and weep? I will tell you: because it breaks my heart to see my child wasting herself here, and performing the most menial duties, when she ought to be taking her place amongst the richest of the land."

"I should be as happy as could be, dear, and I don't mind the work, if you would only get quite well."

"Well, Hazel? Never any more. Let me only see you satisfactorily married, and I shall be ready to die in peace."

"No, no, no, dear!" cried Hazel; "and pray don't say any more about such things."

"I must my dear; but tell me, has Mr Graves been down again?"