lf. I was afraid you would not like to be called out of the
school."

Hazel glanced at the little table where the remains of the tea were
standing, with empty egg-shells, a fragment of bacon, the dirty cups,
and a large array of crumbs.

"I made him a good cup, poor fellow! he was so worn out; so if you fill
up the pot, my dear, I dare say you'll find it all right."

This was the first time that Mrs Thorne had attempted to prepare the
tea, and when she had performed her task it was in an untidy way. Now
that the meal was over, everything looked wretchedly untempting to a
weary person seeking to be refreshed.

Hazel looked at Percy, but he avoided her eye, and sitting down with his
back to her, he began to fill a little cutty pipe from an indiarubber
pouch.

"My dear Percy, what are you about?" cried Mrs Thorne.

"Only going to have a pipe," he said, striking a vesuvian and holding it
to the bowl; "a fellow can't get on without his weed."

Hazel's eyes flashed as she saw the thick puffs of smoke emitted from
her brother's lips, but she did not speak; she waited for her mother,
whose forehead looked troubled, but who made no remark.

"If I speak now," thought Hazel, "it will only make more
unpleasantness." So she filled up the teapot which was half full of
leaves, and then sat down to her comfortless meal.

Finding that she was silent, Percy took it that she had repented, so he
assumed the offensive as he sat and smoked, showing himself an adept at
the practice, and soon half-filling the little room with the pungent
vapour.

"Precious mean little place this for you to have to live in, mamma," he
said contemptuously.

"Yes, it is, my boy, and I feel it very deeply," said Mrs Thorne in a
lachrymose tone.

"Ah, just you wait a bit," he said. "I've left that old office, but
don't you be afraid. A fellow I know has put me up to a few things, and
perhaps I shall astonish you one of these days."

"You mean you will get on well, my dear?"

"That's it. Only you wait. There's plenty of money to be picked up by
any one with _nous_. Ten times as much as any one can get by keeping
his nose to a desk and trying to please a set of cads."

"Yes, dear, I suppose so."

"Some people have no more spirit than a fly," continued Percy. "Fancy a
girl like our Hazel settling down in a bit of a hut like this, when she
might have been the making of us all."

"Ah, yes, my dear," sighed Mrs Thorne, "that is what I often