"Ah, but you will," he said, laughing, and in profound ignorance of the fact that Feelier Potts was imitating his every action for the benefit of her class, even to going across and pretending to tap at the partition. "I believe in kindness and firmness combined, Mr Chute." "So do I," he said, as if lost in admiration. "That's exactly what I said to Lambent; and I say, Miss Thorne, just a friendly word, you know. You back me up and I'll back you up; don't you stand any nonsense from Lambent and those two. They're always meddling and interfering." "Those two?" said Hazel, thinking of Ophelia Potts and Ann Straggalls. "Yes; Rebecca and Beatrice, Lambent's sisters, you know. Rebel and Tricks we call them down here. They're as smooth as can be to your face, and they go and make mischief to Lambent. You must have your eyes open, for they're always telling tales. Beatrice is going to marry the young squire at Ardley, at least she wants to, and Rebecca wants old Burge, but he can't see it." "You really must excuse me now, Mr Chute," said Hazel. "I have so much to do." "Yes, so have I," he said pleasantly; but he did not stir. "You are sure you have plenty of chalk?" "Oh yes, plenty." "And slate-pencil? I believe the little wretches eat the slate-pencil, so much of it goes." "I will send for some if I want it," said Hazel; "I must go now to those classes." "Yes, of course, but one minute. My mother wants to be introduced to your mother, as we are to be neighbours, you know, and if there's anything household you want, mind you send for it." "Yes, certainly, Mr Chute."--Oh, I wish he would go! "May I bring my mother in to-night to see you?" "Not to-night, please, Mr Chute; we are hardly settled yet." "No, of course not. Well, good-bye; I _must_ go now." He held out his hand. For some time past Miss Lambent and her sister had been waiting. They had entered the boys' school to leave a message, and for a while their presence had acted as a brake upon the spirits of the young gentlemen; but waves of noise soon began to rise and fall, growing louder as the time went on. "Master's in the girls' school," one of the boys had said. "Should he fetch him?" "No, boy; go on with your lessons," said Miss Beatrice; and she exchanged glances with her sister. Then they settled themselves to wait, standing like a pair of martyrs to circumstances, listening to the increasing noise, and at last marching together out of the boys' school and towards the girls'. "Henry had better send for Mr Chute, and give him a good talking to," said Miss Lambent. "I formed my own impressions yesterday," said Miss Beatrice. "These proceedings only endorse them. She will never do for Plumton."