h dignity.
"Young people do not always know their own minds."

Hazel turned away to busy herself over some domestic task, so that her
mother should not read the annoyance in her face.

"Mrs Chute is a very weak, silly woman, Hazel, and I feel it to be my
duty to warn you against her, and--and her son."

Hazel could not trust herself to speak, but went on working with her
fingers trembling from agitation, and the tears dimming her eyes.

"She has been in here a good deal lately during school-hours, and she
has got the idea into her head that you have taken a fancy to Mr Samuel
Chute."

The little milk jug that Hazel was wiping fell to the floor with a
crash.

"Oh, for goodness' sake, do be more careful, Hazel," cried Mrs Thorne
angrily. "There's that broken now, and, what with your breakages and
those of the children, it is quite dreadful. Of course she owned that
her son was very much attached to you; but that I knew."

"You knew that, mother!" said Hazel, who was very pale now; and any one
but the weak woman who was speaking would have understood the conflict
between anger, shame, and duty going on in her breast.

"Of course I did, my dear. Do you suppose I do not know what men are,
or that I am blind, I have not reached my years without being able to
read men like a book," she continued with complacency. "I have seen
Master Chute's looks and ways, and poppings into the girls' school; but
as soon as his mother spoke I let her know that she need not expect
anything of that sort, for I told her that my daughter would look far
higher than to a national schoolmaster for her husband."

Hazel felt that she must rush out of the room and go upstairs to give
free vent to the sobs that were struggling for exit, but making an
effort to master the mortification from which she suffered, she stayed
and listened as her mother prattled on with a quiet assumption of
dignity.

"No, `my dear Mrs Chute,' I said--and I must give the poor woman credit
for receiving my quiet reproof with due submission and a proper sense of
respect for me--`no, my dear Mrs Chute,' I said, `you have been very
kind to me, and my child is most grateful to your son for his attentions
and the help he has been to her in giving her hints about the school and
the children. Friends we may continue, but your son must never think of
anything more. He must,' I told her, `see for himself that a young lady
of my daughter's position and personal attractio