"No, my dear; there's a sort of underhandedness about him that isn't nice."

"But, my dear mother, he has been up to town on purpose to extricate Percy from a great difficulty, and, I feel sure," said Hazel warmly, "at a great expense to himself."

"Yes, that's it!" exclaimed Mrs Thorne triumphantly. "And you mark my words, Hazel, if he don't try to make us pay for it most heavily some day."

"Oh, really, mother dear!"

"Now, don't contradict, Hazel, because you really cannot know so well as I do about these things. Has he not taken Percy to his house?"

"Yes, dear."

"Then you will see if he doesn't make that boy a perfect slave and drudge, and work him till--Well, there now, how lucky! What can have brought Edward Geringer down now?"

Hazel turned pale, for at her mother's exclamation she had turned sharply, just in time to see Mr Geringer's back as he pa.s.sed the window, and the next moment his knock was heard at the door.

"Well, my dear," exclaimed Mrs Thorne, as Hazel stood looking greatly disturbed, "why don't you go and let Mr Geringer in? And, for goodness sake, Hazel, do be a little more sensible this time. Edward Geringer has come down, of course, on purpose to see you, and you know why."

Further speech was cut short by the children relieving their sister of the unpleasant duty of admitting the visitor, who came in directly after, smiling and looking bland, with one of the little girls on each side.

"Ah, Hazel!" he exclaimed, loosing his hold of the children.

Hazel tried to master the shrinking sensation that troubled her, and shook hands. Her manner was so cold that Geringer could not but observe it; still, he hid his mortification with a smile, and turned to Mrs Thorne.

"And how are you, my dear madam?" he exclaimed effusively as he took both the widow's hands, to stand holding them with a look that was a mingling of respect and tenderness, the result being that the widow began to sob, and it was some little time before she could be restored to composure.

"I had a visit," he said at last, "from a gentleman who resides in this place, and upon thinking over your trouble I have engaged to go with him to-morrow afternoon to see poor Percy's employers; but I felt bound to run down here first and have a little consultation with you both before taking any steps."

He glanced at Hazel, and their eyes met; and Hazel read plainly that she was the price of his interference to save Percy, and as she mentally repeated his letter, she met his eye bravely, while her heart throbbed with joy as she felt ready to give him a triumphant look of defiance.

He started, in spite of himself, as Mrs Thorne exclaimed--

"It is just like you, Mr Geringer--so kind and thoughtful! But Mr William Forth Burge has settled the matter with those dreadful people.

They kept a great deal of it from me, but I know all, now it is well over; and it is very kind of you, all the same."

"I try to be kind," he said bitterly, "but my kindness seems to be generally thrown away. Miss Thorne, I am going to the hotel to stay to-night. A note will bring me back directly. Mrs Thorne, you must excuse me now."

He spoke in a quiet very subdued voice, and left the house, lest they should see the mortification he felt and he should burst out into a fit of pa.s.sionate reproach, so thoroughly had he hoped that, by coming down, he might work Percy's trouble to his own advantage, and gain so great a hold upon Hazel's grat.i.tude that he might still win the life-game he had been playing so long. But this was check and impending mate, and had he not hurried away he felt that he would have lost more ground still.

He walked up to the hotel in a frame of mind of no very enviable character, fully intending to stay for a few days; but on reaching the place he found that it was possible to catch the night-train back to town.

"Better let her think I am offended now," he muttered. "It is the best move I can make;" and he went straight back to the station, so for the present Hazel saw him no more, and to her great relief.

Percy only came to the cottage once a week, saying that Mr William Forth Burge kept him hard at work writing, and he should be very glad to get a post somewhere in town, for he was sick of Plumton, it was so horribly slow, and Mr William Forth Burge was such a dreadful cad.

Percy's stay proved to be shorter than he expected, for at the end of a month he was one morning marched up to Ardley, and brought face to face with George Canninge, who was quiet and firm with him, asking him a few sharp questions, and ending by giving him a couple of five-pound notes and a letter to a shipping firm in London, the head of which firm told him to come into the office the very next day, and was very short, but informed him that his salary as clerk would begin at once at sixty pounds a year, and that if he did his duty he should rise.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

ANOTHER TROUBLE.

It was, some will say, a childish, old-fashioned way of keeping cash, but all the same it was the plan adopted by Hazel, who every week dropped the amounts she had received from the school pence, after changing the coppers into silver, through the large slit of an old money-box that had been given her when a child. It was a plain, oak-wood box, with ordinary lock and key, and the slit at the top was large enough to admit of each week's shillings and sixpences being tied up in note-paper, in the ladylike way adopted by the fair s.e.x--that is to say, a neat packet is made and tied up with cotton. After the tying up Hazel used to put the amount it contained upon the packet, enter the said amount in a memorandum-book, drop the packet through the slit, and lock up the drawer in which the box reposed.

During the early portion of her stay at Plumton, as previously shown, Mr Chute went on changing the pence for her from copper to silver, but after a time Hazel felt a certain amount of diffidence in charging the schoolmaster with the task, and made an arrangement with the grocer and draper of the place, who readily made the exchange.

Then there was the monthly payment to the blanket fund, which was also placed in the same receptacle, after being duly noted; and there were times when Hazel thought that it would be a good thing when she could get rid of an amount that was rather a burden to her, and she even went so far as to think that she would ask Mr William Forth Burge to take charge of the amount, but for certain reasons she declined.

It was no uncommon thing for Hazel to run very short of money for housekeeping purposes, and several times over it would have been a great convenience to have made use of a portion of the school pence and replaced it from her salary; but she forbore, preferring that the sums she held in charge should remain untouched as they had come into her hands.

After expecting for what seemed a very great length of time, she at last received a beautifully written but ill-spelt letter from one of the churchwardens, requesting her to send him in a statement of the amounts received for the children's pence, and to be prepared to hand over the money at a certain appointed time.

The letter came like a relief to her as she sat at dinner; and upon Mrs Thorne asking, in a somewhat ill-used tone, who had been writing that she was not to know of, her daughter smilingly handed her the letter.

"It was such a thorough business letter, dear, that I thought you would not care to read it."

But Mrs Thorne took it, read it through, and pa.s.sed it back without a word.

"I think you seem a good deal better, dear," said Hazel, smiling.

"Indeed, I am not, child," replied Mrs Thorne sharply. "I never felt worse. My health is terrible: Plumton does not agree with me, and I must have a change."

"A change, dear?" said Hazel, sighing.

"Yes. It is dreadful this constant confinement in a little poking place. I feel sometimes as if I should be stifled. Good gracious, Hazel! what could you be thinking about to come and live in a town like this? Let's go, my dear, and find some occupation more congenial to your spirit. I cannot bear to go on seeing how you are wasted here."

"My dear mother!" exclaimed Hazel wonderingly.

"I repeat it, Hazel--I repeat it, my dear!" exclaimed Mrs Thorne excitedly. "You are not fit for this place, and the wretched people down here do not appreciate you. Let us go away at once."

"But, my dear mother, it is impossible. I should, even if I thought it best, be obliged to give some months' notice; and besides, it would be ungrateful to Mr and Miss Burge, and to the vicar, who is most kind and considerate."

"Oh yes; I know all that," whimpered Mrs Thorne. "But all the same, we must go."

"Must go, mother dear?"

"Yes, child--must go. It is a cruelty to you to keep you here."

"But I have been so well, mother; and I seem to be winning the confidence of the people, and the children begin to like me."

"Oh yes--yes--yes; of course they are bound to like you, Hazel, seeing what a slave you make yourself to them. But all the same, my dear, I protest against your stopping here any longer."

"My dear mother," said Hazel, rising and going to her side to bend down and kiss her, "pray--pray don't be so unreasonable."

"Unreasonable?--unreasonable? Am I to be called unreasonable for advising you for your benefit? For shame, Hazel--for shame!"

"But my dear mother, suppose I accede to your wishes and decide to leave: where are we to go? I should have to seek for another engagement."

"And you would get it, Hazel. Thousands of school managers would be only too glad to obtain your services."