Hazel hardly grasped her words, for George Canninge had turned to bow as he went out, and the glance he then gave set her trembling as she stood with one hand resting upon the desk; for it seemed to her that every one must have seen that look, and she began to ask herself if she was mad to let that man's presence fill her with thoughts that seemed to agitate her strangely.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

A LESSON IN TEACHING.

After the plain manner in which the Reverend Henry Lambent had shown himself disposed to take the part of the young schoolmistress against his sisters, the attacks made by Rebecca and Beatrice were not so open; but they found many little ways of displaying in a petty spirit that they were by no means her friends.

Ladies by birth, it was hardly to be expected that they should stoop to pettiness, but years of residence in a little country place with few people of their own cla.s.s for a.s.sociates, and that mutual friction which is an imperceptible popular educator in manners, had made them what they were, and disposed to grow more little of mind as the years went on.

Their lives were too smooth and regular, too uneventful. A school examination, a blanket club, and a harvest festival, were the great points of their existence, and though they visited in the parish, and were supposed to make themselves acquainted with the cares and sorrows of the poor, their calls were made in a perfunctory spirit, and they did not possess that simple power of appealing to the heart which wins the confidence of rich and poor. Unfortunately, then, they grew narrower as their years became more, and, at the same time, from the want of some good, genuine, honest troubles to take them out of themselves, acidity began to cark and corrode their natures, and work a considerable change.

If Rebecca Lambent had met with a man who possessed good firm qualities and been married, she would doubtless have turned out a quiet matronly body, ready to smile at trifles, and make the best of things; but unfortunately the right _he_ had never presented himself, and Rebecca had become a thorough district-visiting old maid, as narrow as could be, and ready to look upon a child who had not read "The Pilgrim's Progress"

as on the high road to destruction.

Beatrice Lambent's heart was still tender. Rebecca said that she quite hated men. Beatrice thought the declaration quite suitable, as far as her sister was concerned, but her own hatreds were directed at the other s.e.x, and Hazel Thorne was made the scapegoat in her eyes to bear the sins of others. For as the days glided by, she felt a growing dislike to the young schoolmistress, who was always committing some grievous error, her last being that of accepting the gla.s.s of water offered to her by George Canninge.

It would be going far to say that Beatrice Lambent would gladly have put poison in that water had she dared, but certainly she would gladly have dashed it in the recipient's face.

It was terrible to her that George Canninge--the hope to which her somewhat ardent imagination was now clinging as probably the last likely to come in her way--should take so much notice of this stranger girl, finding in her an attraction that asked from him the attentions he would in an ordinary way have paid to the vicar's sister; and more than once she had shed tears on Mrs Canninge's breast, when that lady bade her be of good cheer, and not to take any notice of these acts.

"It is a mere nothing, my dear Beatrice," said Mrs Canninge. "George is naturally very chivalrous, and he seems to have taken it into his head that this girl needs his help and protection."

"But it is so cruel to me," sighed Beatrice. "If you could let him think it caused me pain, he might not act so again."

"My dear child," replied Mrs Canninge, "you do not know my son so well as I. Poor boy, he is very headstrong, and fond of a.s.serting himself.

Depend upon it if I were to attempt to lead him towards you, the consequences would be disastrous. We should be setting him from sheer obstinacy towards this girl, who by-the-way appears to me to be either very innocent and weak, or else crafty and clever to a degree."

"But surely you cannot think she dare aspire to a thought of your son wishing to be attentive to her."

"Oh no, my dear child. That would be impossible. But there, do not trouble yourself about it. You will see that George has forgotten all about her in a few weeks."

Beatrice promised that she would not trouble, but went on growing more exercised in spirit day by day. She took herself to task also about several little acts of pettiness in which she had detected herself, and made a vow that she would not be so contemptible again, but preserve towards Hazel Thorne a ladylike dignity of manner that would be more in keeping with her position as sister of the vicar of Plumton All Saints.

Human nature is, however, very weak, and the nature of Beatrice Lambent was a little weaker. She had always her sister Rebecca at her elbow--a lady who was rapidly becoming the incarnation of old-maidish pettiness and narrow-minded local policies--and strive how she would, Rebecca's constant droppings kept wearing a nature which, though desirous of being firm, was not hardened like unto stone.

The sisters attended the schools with their old readiness and every now and then, as if something within prompted her to be constantly watching for a chance of attack, Beatrice found herself making unpleasant remarks to or of Hazel Thorne and then going home angry and bitter, as she realised how ladylike and quiet the schoolmistress remained under every attack.

For, calling up the whole strength of her character, Hazel had determined to persevere. She had several times been so cruelly mortified by the treatment of the sisters that she felt that she must go; but this was her first school, and she knew that she was bound to stay there a sufficient time to obtain good testimonials for a second.

The vicar came down on the day following the examination, and told her that the inspector had expressed himself greatly disappointed at the state of the school.

"I am sorry to say, Miss Thorne, that he casually let drop his intention of speaking rather hardly respecting our state, which--I am afraid I must tell you his exact words."

"If you please, sir," said Hazel quietly; and she raised her eyes with the strange effect of making him lower his, and speak in a quick, indirect way.

"He said that the state the school was the more to be deplored from the fact that we had secured a young lady of evident power of teaching. The object lesson, he said, was most masterly, and therefore--"

The vicar stopped and raised his eyes for a moment to meet the dear, candid look that seemed to search his soul.

"Pray tell me all, sir."

"I--I hesitate. Miss Thorne," he said, "because I do not think the inspector's opinion was just."

"I thank you, sir," said Hazel gravely.

"He--he suggested that you could not be giving your heart to your work, and that in consequence the children were far more backward than in either of the neighbouring schools."

"It must be from want of ability, sir," said Hazel; "for I cannot charge myself with neglecting my duties in the slightest degree."

"Exactly. I am sure of it. I know you have not, Miss Thorne. I merely repeat the inspector's words as a kind of duty, and I leave it to you to make any alterations you may think best in the direction of your teaching, for I sincerely hope that we may have a better account to show on Mr Barracombe's next visit."

He smiled gravely, bowed, and went away with a longing desire to shake hands, but this he kept down, and walked hurriedly home.

The vicar's sisters were not so agreeable in their remarks upon their first visit after the inspection. They did not attack Hazel with rebuke upon the poor way in which the girls had shown up, but condoled with her in that peculiarly aggravating manner adopted by some women towards those they do not admire.

"We were so sorry for you, Miss Thorne," said Rebecca; "my heart quite bled to see how badly the children answered."

"And it seemed to me such a pity," said Beatrice, "that they will be so inattentive to the many orders you must have given them about their needlework. Did it not strike you as being exceedingly grubby?"

That word "grubby" was brought out in a way that was absolutely wonderful. The p.r.o.nunciation was decidedly Parisian in the rolling of the r, and Miss Beatrice seemed to keep the word upon her tongue, turning it about so as to thoroughly taste how nasty it was before she allowed it to pa.s.s forth into the open air.

"The girls do make their work exceedingly dirty before it is done," said Hazel quietly. "I deeply regretted, too, that they should have answered so badly. I am afraid that it was often from their not understanding the questions."

"Oh, I don't think that, Miss Thorne," said Rebecca, with a kind of snap. "You'll excuse me, I set it down to their ignorance."

"And yet, Miss Lambent, I next day asked the girls as many of the inspector's questions as I could recall, and they answered them with the greatest ease."

"Oh, really, Miss Thorne, I cannot agree with you there," said Beatrice, with an unpleasant smile. "If they could answer you, why could they not answer the inspector?"

"From inability to understand him, ma'am."

"I could understand every question. Rebecca, could not you!"

"Every word, sister. I thought Mr Barracombe singularly clear and perspicuous. The very model of a school inspector."

Hazel bowed.

"I shall try very hard to make them more ready in their answers by another time," she said with humility.

"I hope you will, I am sure, Miss Thorne," said Beatrice, "for it must have been very painful to you, even as it is to us, to know that you have had a bad report of your school. May we--do you object to our taking a cla.s.s each for a very little while?"

"Which cla.s.s would you like, ma'am?" said Hazel gravely, in reply.

"Oh, whichever you please, Miss Thorne; we never like interfering between the mistress and her pupils, and wish to be of help so as to get the children on--do we not, Rebecca?"

"Decidedly, Beatrice. To help you. Miss Thorne: certainly not to usurp your position. I thought if we could take a cla.s.s for you now and then in Scripture history it might be useful to you. Perhaps--I say it with all deference. Miss Thorne, to one who has been trained--you are not so strong in Scripture history as we are."

"I feel my weakness in many subjects, Miss Lambent," replied Hazel.