“I do not understand you, madam,” said Hazel, in spite of the prohibition.
“Then I will speak more plainly—we will speak more plainly, Miss Thorne, and tell you that your conduct since you have been here has not been marked by the discretion that should be a decided feature in the acts of a young person in your position.”
“Madam, I—!”
“Silence, Miss Thorne!” cried Miss Beatrice; and the young mistress’s cheeks were now aflame with indignation. “I will finish, sister Rebecca,” she continued. “For your own sake we wish you to be more guarded, and to remember what is expected of a young person in your position. From the very first Sunday that you came. Miss Thorne, we have noted a tendency—innocent enough, no doubt—towards trying to attract the attention of the other sex.”
“Indeed, madam—”
“Silence, Miss Thorne, and once more I beg that you will not adopt that haughty tone when addressing the vicar’s sisters.”
Hazel remained silent, and just at that moment, as ill-luck had it, the door opened and Mr Chute stepped in, saw the ladies, and stepped out again.
“You see,” said Miss Beatrice with triumph in her tones, as the sisters exchanged meaning glances, while Hazel maintained an indignant silence, “such things are not seemly in any schoolmistress, and certainly not in the mistress of Plumton All Saints’ School.”
“There was the gentleman on the first Sunday,” said Miss Lambent cutting in so as to preclude her sister speaking; “Mr Chute comes in a great deal too often; we did not at all approve of your conduct when Mr Canninge spoke to you at the school treat; and, taken altogether, my sister and I felt it to be our duty to—”
At that moment there was a sharp tap at the door, and two of the bigger girls rushed to open it, orders being forgotten as “teacher” was so busy, and Feelier Potts triumphed, throwing open the door, and revealing the round, smiling features of Mr William Forth Burge—features which ceased to smile as he realised the fact that the vicar’s sisters were there.