"To be sure I will; and I've got an idea in my head that will take the shine out of your treaty for I'll have a display of fireworks."

"There, Betsey, I never thought of no fireworks; and we might have had a regular show off. I never thought of them. Oh!"

"You could not have made the children happier, Mr Burge, if you had remembered the fireworks," said Hazel, coming to the rescue. "They thoroughly enjoyed themselves."

"Well, I meant 'em to. Miss Thorne; I meant 'em to, indeed."

"I agree with Miss Thorne," said Canninge, "and my first step will be to come here for your help."

"And you shall have it too, sir, hearty; that you shall."

"You will come and take off your things now, my dear," said Miss Burge then. "Mr Canninge will excuse us, I'm sure; and, bless me, if here isn't Mr Lambent coming up the drive."

George Canninge felt disposed to go, but thought he would stay, and waited; while the bell was heard to clang, the steps of the servant followed, and a short colloquy was heard, resulting in the vicar leaving his card, and turning away.

"Why, he ain't coming in," said Mr William Forth Burge, running to the door, and then halfway down the drive.

No; he would not come in, the vicar said quietly. Not to-day. He only wished to know if Miss Burge was well, and he walked away, frowningly thinking of George Canninge's horse, which he knew well by sight, as the groom was walking it slowly up and down by the entrance to the stable-yard.

He had not seen it till he was close up, and he felt disposed to turn back, but it was too late. He had heard from the servant that Hazel Thorne was present as well, and he parted from the giver of school treats soon afterwards, feeling bitter at heart and low-spirited more than he could account for at the time.

"He wouldn't come in," said Mr William Forth Burge, hurrying back into the drawing-room panting and looking warm. "I told him you was here."

"Busy, perhaps," said George Canninge quietly, though he told himself directly after that it was an absurd remark, for if the Reverend Henry Lambent had been busy he would not have devoted the day to making calls.

"Well now, you must excuse us, Mr Canninge, for brother will talk to you while we go upstairs."

"I must ask you to excuse me too," said George Canninge, rising and thinking of the vicar's visit, which it was certainly strange should have been paid at the time Miss Thorne was there. "My horse is hot, and I must not leave him any longer. I met Miss Thorne on the way, and the sight of her reminded me of my want of civility in not coming sooner.

Now I'll say good-day. Miss Burge, I shall never forget your compliment."

"Which it was not a compliment at all, sir, but just what I honestly thought," replied Miss Burge, shaking hands.

"Then I shall esteem the remark all the more," he said, smiling, and delighting the little lady by his frankness and hearty way. Then, turning to where Hazel was standing:

"Good-day, Miss Thorne," he said; and there was something so frank and matter-of-fact in the way in which he shook hands that Hazel's eyes brightened; and he went away, mounting at the door, and walking his horse down to the gate, with stout Mr William Forth Burge holding on by the mane, and talking loudly the while.

George Canninge's replies sounded manly and ready enough, but all the time he was thinking of Hazel Thorne's sweet ingenuous smile, and he rode away at a brisk canter, as if he meant to go over Samuel Chute, seeing only that there was some one by the side of the road, for he was picturing that smile, and more than once he repeated to himself the words:

"Only a schoolmistress!"

Then, after a pause, as he was well clear of the town:

"Well, what of that? It is a most worthy pursuit and she is a thorough lady in every word and look."

CHAPTER TWENTY.

THE COMING STRUGGLE.

Was there ever a young schoolmaster or mistress yet who did not view with a strange feeling of tribulation the coming of inspection day, when that awful being, Her Majesty's Inspector of Schools for such and such a district, is expected down to make his report and add to or deduct so many pounds sterling from the teacher's pay?

Of course we do these things better now; but there have been cases where the appointment of school inspector has been given to a gentleman who owed his elevation, not to the fact that he was a thorough scholar, a man who had always taken great interest in the education of the ma.s.ses, a student of school management, a man of quick intellect apt to seize upon the latent points, ready to suggest, to qualify, and help the master or mistress upon whose teaching for the past year he was about to report, gifted with the brain-power that would enable him to appreciate the difficulties of the task, and ready to see that the boys and girls of Pudley Claypole really had not the quickness of the _gamins_ and _gamines_ of Little Sharp Street, Whitechapel Road--but to the accident of his having friends, if not at Court, at all events with some high official--his sisters, his cousins, or his aunts--then in power.

Now, no one could have found fault with the gentlemanly demeanour of Mr Slingsby Barracombe. Miss Lambent said it was a pleasure to have him at the vicarage, and quite made a break in the dulness of their life, for he discoursed of society in town, his high connections, the state of the country; and he could sip tea and talk family matters with the vicarage ladies like a woman. He was a man of excellent presence: his hair very slightly touched with grey, and in that stage when, as he parted it down the middle, you could not decidedly have said whether it was a very broad parting or a suggestion of growing bald.

Sometimes your school inspector is a reverend M.A. Mr Slingsby Barracombe was not, but he dressed as much like a clergyman as he could, and his clothes were all made by one of the first clerical tailors in town.

Mr Barracombe's uncle's wife's sister had married a gentleman whose brother was in the Ministry; and, somehow, Mr Slingsby Barracombe was named as likely to obtain the appointment of Inspector of Schools, did obtain it and went on afterwards merrily inspecting and reporting for his district after a fashion for which he ought to have had a patent, since it was essentially his own.

"You will endeavour to have as large an attendance as you can. Miss Thorne," said the vicar. "Her Majesty's inspector will be here on Thursday, and I shall feel it deeply if you do not receive a highly commendatory report."

"We hope--my sister and I--Miss Thorne," said Miss Lambent with asperity, "that the girls will acquit themselves well. Some of their needlework has of late been terribly full of gobble st.i.tches."

"And so disgustingly grubby," put in Miss Beatrice.

"That it has not been fit to be seen. Pray--pray--I implore you. Miss Thorne--pray be more energetic with the girls."

"Don't you bother yourself, my dear," said Miss Burge. "My brother says he hopes the girls will all show up well, for your sake as well as the school's; but don't you bother yourself, my dear. You've just worked like a slave and done no end. Now let it all slide. If the girls answer well, they do; if they don't answer well, they don't. 'Taint your fault, so don't you worry. We're both coming to the inspection, and my brother says if there's any nonsense and fault-finding with the inspector he shall give him a bit of his mind. He don't believe in inspectors, don't Bill. He says there was never any inspectors in his time that he knows of, and if all the boys turn out as well as he did, there won't be much to grumble about; so don't you fidget, but take it as coolly as you can."

"I say, how are you getting on!" said Mr Chute, popping his head in at the door. "Can't stop, because I expect Lambent; and if I do come in, it will be cats. You know."

"Cats? I know?" said Hazel, staring at the lumpy front of Mr Chute, and noticing that his hair seemed to have come up more than ever.

"Yes, of course--cats! I mean Becky and Beatrice--Rebel and Tricksy. I call them the cats. Don't tell 'em I called 'em so; but I'm not a bit afraid of that. Don't feel nervous about the inspection, do you?"

"I do feel a little nervous Mr Chute."

"So does my mother. She's in a regular fidget for fear I shouldn't do well; but as I said to her, what does it matter? When a man has done his best with his school, why, he can't do any better, can he?"

"No; certainly not," replied Hazel, for Mr Chute was gazing at her in his peculiarly irritating way, his head a little on one side and his nose pointing, as if he meant to have an answer out of her if it was not soon forthcoming.

"I think my boys are all well up, and if they don't answer sharp they've got me to deal with afterwards, and they'll hear of it, I can tell 'em.

But don't you mind. Old Barracombe isn't much account. He always asks the same questions--a lot he has got off by heart, I believe. I always call him the expector, because he expects answers to questions he couldn't answer for himself."

"I hope the children will acquit themselves well," said Hazel. "Oh, I don't think I shall bother myself much about it. I shall take precious good care that they have clean hands and faces, that's about all."

Just then Mr Chute popped back outside the door, as if he were part of a pantomime trick, and Hazel breathed more freely, thinking he had gone; but he popped in again, smiling and imitating his visitee more and more by a.s.suming to take her into his confidence, and treating her as if she were combining with him in his petty little bits of deception.

"There's n.o.body coming. I looked right up the street, and I could have seen that stalking post Lambent if he had been a mile off."

If Hazel had asked him if he could see the Misses Lambent he would have been happy; but she did not, though Mr Chute waited with a smile upon his face but a goodly store of bitterness in his heart, for he kept on thinking of George Canninge, and that gentleman who came down upon the first Sunday and caused him such a pang.

Hazel, however, did not speak. She stood there, not caring to be rude, but longing to ask him to go, and with that peculiar itching attacking her fingers which made her wish to lift the Testament she had in her hand to well box his too prominent ears.

Just then Mr Chute popped out again, and once more Hazel's heart gave a throb of relief, for it was troubled now by the idea that Mr Chute was growing attached to her, and there was something so horrible as well as ludicrous in this, that she shrank from him whenever he appeared. But Mr Chute was not gone; he came back directly with a great bunch of flowers grasped in his two hands and held up to his breast and over which he smiled blandly.

"They're not much of flowers for you to receive. Miss Hazel, but I thought you'd like a few to put in water--_and you might like to accept them for my sake_."