Part 45 (1/2)
said Beatrice, smiling. ”How much do they amount to this time? My brother will be so anxious to know.”
Out came Mr Piper's pocket-book again, the pencil was drawn from its sheath, and the page found.
”Boys' pence for the year ending the blank day of blank eighteen blank,” read Mr Piper, ”thirty-two pound seven s.h.i.+llings and eightpence-ha'penny: though I can't quite make out that ha'penny.”
”And the girls', Mr Piper--how much is that?”
”Well, you see, Miss Thorne ain't ready 'm yet so I can't tell. It's no use for me to put down the sum till I get the money. Good morning, miss. Good morning, miss. It's a busy time with me, so I must go.”
The churchwarden left the schoolroom, his hat still upon his head, and Hazel was left face to face with her friends from the Vicarage.
”Had you not better call Mr Piper back, Miss Thorne,” said Rebecca.
”Shall I call him, Miss Thorne?” said Beatrice eagerly.
”No, ma'am, I thank you,” replied Hazel. ”I explained to Mr Piper that I was not ready for him this morning.”
”But did he not send word that he was coming?” said Rebecca suavely. ”I know he always used to send down the day before.”
”Yes, Miss Lambent; Mr Piper did send down, but I have not the money by me,” said Hazel desperately. ”My--I mean we--had a pressing necessity for some money, and it has been used. I will pay Mr Piper, in the course of a few days.”
Rebecca Lambent appeared to freeze as she glanced at her sister, who also became icy.
”It is very strange,” said the former.
”Quite contrary to our rules, I think, sister,” replied Beatrice, ”Are you ready?”
”Yes, dear. Good morning, Miss Thorne.”
”Yes; good morning, Miss Thorne,” said Beatrice; and they swept out of the school together, remaining silent for the first hundred yards or so as they went homeward. ”This is very extraordinary, Rebecca,” cried Beatrice at last, speaking with an a.s.sumption of horror and astonishment, but with joy in her heart.
”Not at all extraordinary,” said Rebecca. ”I am not in the least surprised. Unable to pay over the school pence and deeply in debt to the grocer! I wonder what she owes to the butcher and baker?”
”And the draper!” said Beatrice malignantly. ”A schoolmistress flaunting about with a silk parasol! What does a schoolmistress want with a parasol?”
”She is not wax,” said Rebecca. ”I rarely use one. And now look here, Beattie; it is all true, then, about that boy.”
”What! Miss Thorne's brother?”
”Yes; Hazel Thorne's brother. He was in trouble, then, in London, and fled here, and it seems as if the vice is in the family. Why, it is sheer embezzlement to keep back and spend the school pence. I wonder what Henry will say to his favourite now?”
Meanwhile Hazel, whose head throbbed so heavily that she could hardly bear the pain, had dismissed the girls, for it was noon, and then hurried back to the cottage to seek her room, very rudely and sulkily, Mrs Thorne said, for she had spoken to her child as she pa.s.sed through, but Hazel did not seem to hear.
”I sincerely hope, my dears, that when you grow up,” said Mrs Thorne didactically, ”you will never behave so rudely to your poor mamma as Hazel does.”
”Hazel don't mean to be rude, ma,” said Cissy in an old-fas.h.i.+oned way.
”She has got a bad headache, that's all. I'm going up to talk to her.”
”No, Cissy; you will stay with me,” said Mrs Thorne authoritatively.