nds unwillingly, jumped at
the chance of getting the indigent applicant off their hands, and after
a consultation, wrote to her saying they were so pleased with her
efforts at self-help, that amongst them they would subscribe the funds
for paying her fees, at the training institution and for maintaining
Mrs Thorne and the children for a year, or such time as Hazel should
get a school.

"Oh, mamma, mamma, sunshine at last," cried the girl, and trembling,
weeping, and laughing hysterically, in turn, so great was her joy, she
read the letter, which came upon Mrs Thorne as a surprise, her child
having kept her quite in ignorance of the plans to prevent
disappointment.

"Then, I think it very disgraceful, very disgraceful indeed, Hazel,"
said the poor woman indignantly. "They ought to be ashamed of
themselves."

"Ashamed, dear mother!"

"Now, don't you turn against me in my troubles, Hazel," cried Mrs
Thorne. "What have I done that my own child should begin to degrade
me?"

"Degrade you? Oh, my own dear mother!"

"There--there again! I don't care how low we are forced by the cruelty
of my relatives, and your poor dear papa's. I will never forget that I
am a lady."

"Surely not, dear," said Hazel soothingly.

"Then why will you persist in calling me by that low, common, degrading
term--Mother?"

"Dear mamma, I thought it better under the circumstances."

"No circumstances could excuse it, Hazel," said Mrs Thorne with
dignity. "Percy never speaks to me like that; and by-the-way, my dear,
Percy says he must have a new suit: his mourning is getting so shabby,
he is quite ashamed of it, and I'm sure my heart bleeds every time I see
the poor boy go out."

"Yes, mamma, we will see what can be done," said Hazel, suppressing a
sigh.

"And as to that national school business," continued Mrs Thorne, "it is
disgraceful. Write and tell cousin Jane and her husband that, however
low we may be reduced by poverty, my daughter will never forget that she
is a lady."

"But, mamma dear," said Hazel gently; "it was entirely my idea, and I
wrote for their help."

"You--you, Hazel--my child--propose to go to a common training school,
and then accept a situation to teach a pack of dirty poor people's
children? Oh, what have I done--what have I done to be called upon to
suffer this new--this pitiful degradation! What have I done?"

It was hard work, but by degrees poor Mrs Thorne was brought round to
think that perhaps