offices for the
benefit of all concerned, she crushed it down.

All the same her life was one of slavery, and needed no embittering by
her mother's reproaches and plaints. Of late she had grown very cold
and reserved, feeling that only by such conduct could she escape the
criticism of the many watchful eyes by which she was environed. There
was very little vanity in her composition, but she could not help
realising the truth of her mother's remarks, and this induced her to
walk as circumspectly as she possibly could.

Turning languidly, then, from the school on this particular afternoon,
she was about to enter her own gate, when she became aware of the
presence of Mr Chute who hurried up with--

"You haven't given me your pence to change for you lately. Miss Thorne.
I haven't offended you, have I?"

"Offended me, Mr Chute? Oh no," she replied. "I will count them up
to-morrow, and send in the bag to your school."

"Oh, no; don't do that," he said hastily. "Girls are honest enough, I
dare say, but you shouldn't put temptation in their way. I'll come in
and fetch them. I say, what a lovely afternoon it is!"

"Yes, lovely indeed!" replied Hazel, "but the weather seems tiring."

"Oh, no, it ain't," he said sharply. "That's because you're not well."

"I'm afraid I'm not very well," said Hazel; "I so soon get tired now."

"Of course you do. That's because you don't go out enough. You ought
to have a good walk every day."

"Yes; I believe I ought," replied Hazel.

"It's going to be a lovely evening," said Mr Chute.

"Is it?" said Hazel wearily.

"Yes, that it is. I say--it's to do you good, you know--come and have a
nice walk to-night."

"Come--and have a walk!" said Hazel wonderingly.

"Yes," he said excitedly, for he had been screwing himself up to this
for days; "come and let's have a walk together. I--that is--you know--
I--'pon my soul, Miss Hazel, I can't hardly say what I mean, but I'm
very miserable about you, and if you'd go for a walk along with me
to-night, it would do me no end of good."

"Mr Chute, I could not. It is impossible," cried Hazel quickly.

"Oh no; it ain't impossible," he said quickly; "it's because you're so
particular you won't. Look here, then--but don't go."

"I must go, Mr Chute; I am tired, and I cannot stay to talk."

"Look here: will you go for a walk to-night, if I take mother too!"

Hazel had hard work to repress a shudder as she shook her head.

"It is