other, pray, pray do not talk like this!"

"And all I ask is, that there may be a simple headstone placed there,
with my name and age; and, if it could possibly be managed, and not too
great an expense and waste of money for so unimportant a person, I
should like the words to be cut deeply in the marble,--or, no, I suppose
it would be only stone, common stone--just these simple words: `She
never forgot that she was a lady.'"

Here Mrs Thorne sighed deeply, and began to strive to extricate herself
from her child's enlacing arms.

"No, no, no, Hazel; don't hold me--it is of no use. I can tell, even by
the way you touch me, that you have no affection left for your poor
suffering mother."

"How can you say that dear?" said Hazel firmly.

"Nor yet in your words, even. Oh, Hazel, I never thought I should live
to be spoken to like this by my own child!"

"My dear mother, I am ready to make any sacrifice for your sake."

"Then marry Mr Geringer," said the lady quickly.

"It is impossible."

"Move from here at once. Take me away to some other place. Let me be
where I can meet with some decent neighbours, and not be Chuted to death
as I am here."

Mrs Thorne was so well satisfied with the sound of the new word which
she had coined that she repeated it twice with different emphases.

"My dear mother, we have no money; we are in debt and it might be months
before I could obtain a fresh engagement. Mother, that too, is
impossible."

"There--there--there!" cried Mrs Thorne, with aggravating iteration.
"What did I say? Everything I propose is impossible, and yet in the
same breath the child of my bosom tells me that she is ready to do
anything to make me happy, and to show how dutiful she is."

"Mother," said Hazel gravely, "how can you be so cruel? Your words cut
me to the heart."

"I am glad of it, Hazel--I am very glad of it; for it was time that your
hard, cruel heart should be touched, and that you should know something
of the sufferings borne by your poor, bereaved mother. A little real
sorrow, my child, would make you very, very different, and teach you,
and change you. Ah, there is nothing like sorrow for chastening a hard
and thoughtless heart!"

"Mother dear," said Hazel, trying to kiss her. "I must go into the
school."

"No, no! don't kiss me, Hazel," said the poor, weak woman with a great
show of dignity; "I could not bear it now. When you can come to me in
all proper humility, as you will t