Part 14 (1/2)

”No, mother.”

Mrs Thorne sighed, as she always did at the word ”mother.”

”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 pet.i.tioned to be allowed to take a cla.s.s sometimes--a pet.i.tion 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 cla.s.s 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 a.s.sure 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.”