d is ready to take our good counsel home to her heart. I
am glad that you came, for you can endorse our words. Miss Thorne,
after our preparation of the soil, will be ready to hear."

The Reverend Henry Lambent had turned to Hazel as these words were
spoken, and their eyes met. He was not a clever reader of the human
hearty but he saw the shame and humiliation which the poor girl
suffered, for there was an indignant protest in her look--a look that
seemed to say: "I am a helpless woman and have done no wrong. You are a
gentleman; protect me from these cruel insults, or I must go."

"We have also given her a book to read and study," continued Miss
Lambent, "and that and our words--"

"I am afraid that you have chosen a very bad time for making an appeal
to Miss Thorne, Rebecca," said the vicar, interrupting, in low, grave,
measured tones; "and I am not sure but that the interference was
uncalled for."

"Henry!" ejaculated Beatrice, as Hazel cast a grateful look at her
brother.

"Miss Thorne, will you allow me to look at that book?" continued the
Reverend Henry, taking it from her hand. "Yes, as I thought. It is
most unsuitable to a young"--he was going to say "person," but he
changed it to "lady of Miss Thorne's education. It is such a book as I
should have given to some very young girl just come into our service."

"Henry!" ejaculated Beatrice again, for it was all she could say in her
astonishment.

"I think this interview must be rather painful to Miss Thorne," he
continued quietly, "and we will not prolong it. I was going to question
some of the girls, Miss Thorne, but--another time. Good-day."

He bowed and walked to the door, waiting there for his sisters to pass,
which they did with heads erect and a severe, injured expression, quite
ignorant of the fact that they were being imitated by Miss Feelier
Potts, for the benefit of her class. Then he looked once at Hazel, and
saw that there were tears in her eyes as she gazed after him.

He went out then, ready to do battle with fifty sisters, for Hazel's
look had clothed him with moral armour _cap-a-pie_.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

"SHE'S MINE!"

"Mr Lambent treats me with respect," reasoned Hazel one afternoon when
the soreness had somewhat worn off, leaving a feeling that perhaps after
all it would be possible to stay on at Plumton All Saints.

She had been very low-spirited for some time, but as she recalled the
quiet, gentlemanly manner of the