Hazel felt more nervous than before. It was very kind and friendly of these people, but they divided her attention, and the schoolgirls wanted it all. For, having succeeded so well over the squinting, and thereby won the admiration of her fellow-pupils, girl-like, Miss Feelier must attempt something new, and this novelty was the giving vent to little mouse-like squeaks, just loud enough to be heard by Ann Straggalls, who began to titter, and of course this was communicated to others near.
The long notes became so marked at last that Hazel had to apologise to her new friends, and hurry to the front and admonish, painfully conscious the while that plenty of the inhabitants were at their windows and doors, watching and commenting upon the appearance of the new mistress, some remarks being loud enough for her to hear.
Order being restored, Hazel resumed her place, and Mr William Forth Burge took up his parable and said:—
“Plumton’s a deal altered. Miss Thorne, since I knowed it first.”
“Is it?” said Hazel.
“Oh, a deal. Why, when I left Plumton thirty year ago, after being two year with old Marks the butcher, and went up to London to seek my fortune—and I think I found it eh, Betsey?”
“That you did indeed, dear,” said little Miss Burge proudly.
“Ah, I did, Miss Thorne,” he continued. “Why, at that time—”
“I beg your pardon,” said Hazel; “the girls are not yet used to me.”
She had become aware just then that something else was wrong in the van of her little army, and hurrying to the front, she found fat Ann Straggalls furiously red, and choking with laughter.