The New Mistress Part 49

"Now, Hazel," said Mrs Thorne with dignity, "I am waiting for an explanation."

"An explanation, dear?" said Hazel, leaving her seat to place her arm affectionately round her mother's neck.

"Not yet, Hazel," said the poor woman, shrinking away. "I cannot accept your caresses till I have had a proper explanation about those letters."

"My dear mother, I can give you no explanation."

"What! do you deny that you are corresponding with three different gentlemen at once?"

"Yes, mother dear. Is it likely?" said Hazel, smiling.

"Don't treat the matter with levity, Hazel. I cannot bear it! Who are those letters from?"

"I do not know, dear; though I think I could guess."

"Then I insist upon knowing."

"My dear mother, I can only think they are from people who know of my trouble about the school."

"You did not write and ask for help, Hazel?"

"No, mother. No; I should not have done such a thing."

"Then tell me at once who would send to you like that."

"Mother dear, can you not spare me this?"

"I never did see such a strange girl in my life as you are, Hazel.

Well, never mind; I dare say I can bear another slight or two if you will not tell me. There, I suppose you must pay that wretched school money out of those notes."

"Out of these, mother?"

"Of course, child. Why, what are you thinking now?"

"Mother dear, it is impossible."

"Impossible, child! Why, what romantic notion have you taken into your head now?"

"It is no romance, mother; it is reality," sighed Hazel.

"Then what are you going to do?"

"Return the money to the givers as soon as I can be certain where to send."

"Return it? What! that money, when you know how urgently it is needed at home?"

"Yes, dear."

"And how is that school money to be paid?"

Hazel was silent.

"I declare, Hazel," cried Mrs Thorne, "your behaviour is quite preposterous, and the absurdity of your ideas beyond belief. Do, pray, leave off these foolish ways and try to behave like a sensible--There now, I declare her conduct is quite shocking: running off like that without saying 'Good morning,' or 'May I leave the room, mamma?' Dear, dear me, I have come down in the world indeed."

For Hazel had suddenly left the room--nine o'clock striking--and the idea strongly impressing itself upon her mind that so sure as she happened to be late some one or another would kindly inform Miss Lambent if she did not realise it for herself.

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.

HAZEL THORNE SEEKS HELP.

As soon as Hazel Thorne had fairly started the school that morning, she took out the envelopes and studied each handwriting fairly to see if she could make out who were the senders of the letters.

That she found she could not do, but in her own mind she set down the writers aright, and a bitter feeling of shame and humiliation came upon her as she felt that those who sent would never have dreamed of making such a present to any one they respected. It looked to her like charity, and her face burned as she indignantly longed to return the envelopes and notes to their senders.

She knew that there had been the three gentlemen visitors to the school while she was absent upon the previous afternoon, and though it was possible that they might have been down to speak to her respecting her failure of trust, her heart told her that it was not; and now her mother's strong desire to leave the place seemed to have come upon her in turn, and she felt that she would give anything to be a hundred miles away from Plumton and at peace.

She tried to win forgetfulness by devoting herself to the various cla.s.ses, but in vain; every step she heard seemed to be a visitor coming to ask her about the money not paid, and every subject she took up suggested the notes now lying in her pocket.

Twice over she went to her desk and there wrote a brief letter of thanks to Mr William Forth Burge, but she tore it up directly; and she dared not write one to George Canninge, nor yet to the vicar, from whom she was sure the other amounts had come.

Just in the middle of one of her greatest fits of depression there was a knock at the door, and she dreaded that it might be the vicar, while if it had been George Canninge she felt that she dared not have faced him.

Her heart gave a throb of relief as she heard the familiar tones of Mr William Forth Burge, and the next throb was one of grat.i.tude as she knew that he had had the delicacy to bring his sister with him. Then there was a depressing feeling as she felt that they would show by their manner how displeased and disappointed they were at her breach of trust.

Here she was wrong again, for her visitors' greeting was warm in the extreme, and with the reaction a sensation of oppression robbed her of the power of speech; while had she not tried hard she would have burst into a pa.s.sionate flood of tears.

"We were so sorry to hear of your bad headache, my dear," said little Miss Burge affectionately, "and really I don't think you ought to be here now. Your poor eyes look as red as red, and you are quite pale and feverish."

"So she is," said Mr William Forth Burge. "Why, Betsey, there ought to be a holiday, so that Miss Thorne could take a day or two's rest."

"No, no, Mr Burge; I am better," said Hazel, speaking excitedly; for the kindly consideration of these people had taken away all resentment, all pride, and she felt that she was with friends. "Mr William Forth Burge--"

"No, no; plain Mr Burge or William Burge to me, Miss Thorne. I don't want a long name from you."

"Mr Burge--Miss Burge, yesterday I could not have spoken to you upon this subject, but your kindness--"

"There, there, there; don't say a word about it," he replied quickly.

"I know all, and it was an accident."

"An accident?"

"Yes, my dear," broke in little Miss Burge. "Bill talked it over to me last night, and--Now, you won't be offended, my dear?"

"Nothing you could say would offend me," cried Hazel eagerly.

"No, of course not, my dear. Well, my brother said to me, 'depend upon it, Betsey, her poor ma wanted the money for housekeeping or something, and just used it. That's all.'"