Hazel Thorne was excited enough during all these proceedings but her excitement would have increased had she been aware of the fact that one of the partition shutters was slightly lowered, and from this point of vantage Mr Samuel Chute was from time to time inspecting her every act.
For Mr Chute was a good deal exercised in his spirit.
“If it isn’t to be friends it shall be enemies,” he said; and he not only set himself to watch, but told his mother—to use his own words—to have an eye on the next-door people, a commission which Mrs Chute seized upon with avidity, it being one greatly to her taste.
Samuel Chute, then, knew of Percy Thorne’s coming before Hazel, and also who the tall, overgrown lad was. He knew of the arrival of the business letters that morning, and after due debate in his own mind, he came to the conclusion that there was something wrong.
“They won’t get over me in a hurry,” he muttered; and taking it that there was a conspiracy of some kind afloat, he went quite early into the school and lowered the shutter, ready to keep a watch upon Hazel’s movements, and to be ready—he only knew why—with movements of his own.
So it was there that he saw Hazel looked agitated and ill at ease, and also saw her write a letter and call up one of the girls, fat Ann Straggalls—the slow, innocent and sure—being selected for the task.
Mr Chute thrust his hands through his hair and made it stick up fiercely as he left his desk, frowned all round the room, said “Sh! sh!” in several classes, and then walked quickly to the door, turned and gave a glance round to find every eye in the school directed at him, and then stepped out into the front just in time to find Ann Straggalls engaged in a struggle with Hazel’s missive, which refused to be tucked down into the bosom of the stout young maiden’s dress, consequent upon the tightness of certain strings.
“Here! Hi! Straggalls!” cried Chute, and the girl crawled shrinkingly to him in the same way as the boys would have turned, a sharp, quick call from Mr Chute always suggesting impending punishment to the youthful mind.
“How is it you are not in school, Ann Straggalls?” said the schoolmaster importantly.
“Plee, sir, teacher, sir, sent me with this letter, sir. I’ve got to take it, sir.”