me in," said the churchwarden, closing his pocket-book as
Hazel crushed this last horror in her hand in a weak dread lest it
should be seen.

"So you've been collecting the school accounts as usual, Mr Piper,"
said Beatrice, smiling. "How much do they amount to this time? My
brother will be so anxious to know."

Out came Mr Piper's pocket-book again, the pencil was drawn from its
sheath, and the page found.

"Boys' pence for the year ending the blank day of blank eighteen
blank," read Mr Piper, "thirty-two pound seven shillings and
eightpence-ha'penny: though I can't quite make out that ha'penny."

"And the girls', Mr Piper--how much is that?"

"Well, you see, Miss Thorne ain't ready 'm yet so I can't tell. It's no
use for me to put down the sum till I get the money. Good morning,
miss. Good morning, miss. It's a busy time with me, so I must go."

The churchwarden left the schoolroom, his hat still upon his head, and
Hazel was left face to face with her friends from the Vicarage.

"Had you not better call Mr Piper back, Miss Thorne," said Rebecca.

"Shall I call him, Miss Thorne?" said Beatrice eagerly.

"No, ma'am, I thank you," replied Hazel. "I explained to Mr Piper that
I was not ready for him this morning."

"But did he not send word that he was coming?" said Rebecca suavely. "I
know he always used to send down the day before."

"Yes, Miss Lambent; Mr Piper did send down, but I have not the money by
me," said Hazel desperately. "My--I mean we--had a pressing necessity
for some money, and it has been used. I will pay Mr Piper, in the
course of a few days."

Rebecca Lambent appeared to freeze as she glanced at her sister, who
also became icy.

"It is very strange," said the former.

"Quite contrary to our rules, I think, sister," replied Beatrice, "Are
you ready?"

"Yes, dear. Good morning, Miss Thorne."

"Yes; good morning, Miss Thorne," said Beatrice; and they swept out of
the school together, remaining silent for the first hundred yards or so
as they went homeward. "This is very extraordinary, Rebecca," cried
Beatrice at last, speaking with an assumption of horror and
astonishment, but with joy in her heart.

"Not at all extraordinary," said Rebecca. "I am not in the least
surprised. Unable to pay over the school pence and deeply in debt to
the grocer! I wonder what she owes to the butcher and baker?"

"And the draper!" said Beatrice malignantly. "A schoolmistress
flaunting a