position of
mistress of the old hall, she had never been guilty of the meanness, but
waited her time.

"He shall never marry her," she said over and over again; and in spite
of her better self, the news of the money trouble had been like balm to
her wounded spirit. Now, then, the tidings of Hazel's visit to the sick
child had come, and again, in spite of herself, she felt a sensation
akin to satisfaction, for this seemed as if it might act as a safeguard
to her son.

It was a flimsy one, she knew--a broken reed upon which to lean; but it
was something, and every trifle that appeared likely to keep George
Canninge and Hazel apart, if it were only for a few days longer, was
like a reprieve, and might result in something better to her mind.

The matter was not discussed, but Mrs Canninge noted that her son rode
over to the town every morning, and found afterwards that he called at
the Burges' day after day, where he incidentally learned that Hazel was
still nursing the fever-stricken child.

It was pleasant to him at this juncture to talk to little Miss Burge,
and to listen to her simple prattle about Hazel, and what trouble she
and her brother took in sending down everything that was necessary for
the invalid and her nurse, so that Hazel might be comfortable.

"It is very kind of you and Mr Burge," said Canninge one day.

"Oh, I don't know, Mr Canninge," she replied; "we want to do all the
good we can, and one can't help loving Miss Thorne."

"No," said George Canninge quietly; and as he rode home he repeated
little Miss Burge's words to himself over and over again--"One can't
help loving Miss Thorne."

But he made no further advances--he did not go to the schoolhouse to
make inquiries, nor yet ask at the cottage where Hazel was a prisoner;
he contented himself with visiting the Burges day by day, to start back
almost in alarm one morning as he saw a look of trouble in little Miss
Burge's face, and before he could ask what was wrong the little woman
burst out with--

"Oh, Mr Canninge, that poor, dear girl!"

"What?" he said excitedly. "She has not--"

"Yes, sir, and badly. My brother has been down there this morning, and
she is delirious. And oh, poor girl! poor girl! I cannot let her lie
there alone. I'm dreadfully afraid of the fever, Mr Canninge; but I
shall have to go."

"You? What! to nurse her?" said George Canninge, with a face now
ghastly.

"Yes, sir; I must go. My brother has been down e