ds for me to start with, I feel as sure as sure that
I could make no end by putting it on horses at some of the big races.
You've no idea what a pot of money some fellows handle that way. Ah,
you may smile, but you are only a girl, and very ignorant of such
things. You wouldn't laugh if I was to turn twenty pounds into a
thousand."

"No, Percy, I should not laugh if you turned twenty pounds into a
thousand," said Hazel. "But there, we will say no more now; only
promise me this,--that you will not smoke again in this cottage, nor yet
make any more bets."

"Yes, I'll promise," said the boy sulkily. "I suppose I must."

"I'm sure no one could have behaved better than Percy has, my dear,"
said Mrs Thorne. "He has been perfectly open and frank. All that you
can find against him is that he has been unlucky. Poor boy! If your
father had been alive!"

Here Mrs Thorne entered into the performance of a prose dirge upon her
sufferings, and the cruelty of fate--of what would have happened if Mr
Thorne had lived, and finished up during a _resume_ of her prospects
when she was Hazel's age by finding that Percy had gone fast asleep,
Hazel being upstairs, making arrangements for the accommodation of this
addition to their family, a task of no small difficulty to people with
their limited means.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

THE FACTS.

Several things interfered with Hazel's obtaining a good night's rest.
She had given up her bedroom to Percy, and the little sofa was cramped
and hard. But had she been in the most luxurious of beds, Hazel Thorne
would not have slept well, for she was haunted by the angry, vindictive
look of Mr Samuel Chute, and troubled by his threats. Next there was
the shame and mortification of knowing that her mother's weak words had
gone home, and were being used against her. Then the quiet deference of
the vicar and his peculiar way made her uneasy as she went over and over
her interview with him, and recalled the smallest matters of his
reference to Mr Chute.

Lastly there was Percy's sudden arrival, and the battle she found
herself having with the idea that, in spite of his apparent frankness,
the boy had not told her all.

At last, towards morning, she dropped into an uneasy sleep, in which she
dreamed that Mr William Forth Burge had told her he loved her, and that
he would provide for Percy and make her mother a comfortable home, if
she would be his wife.

In her trouble she awoke suddenl