almost intolerable. Still her aunt did not speak. The sitting-room
looked so cosy when tea was laid; the firelight played over the cups;
her aunt drew the curtains. On one side there was joy, warmth--all that
she could desire; on the other, a forlorn walk in the dark. She had
left it until so late that her heart shook at the idea of the many
miles she must cover alone if her aunt did not ask her.

Her aunt knew what was going on in Hazel's mind, and smiled grimly at
Hazel's unusual meekness. She took the opportunity of administering a
few hometruths.

'You look like an actress,' she said.

'Do I, auntie?'

'Yes. It's a disgrace, the way you look. You quite draw men's eyes.'

'It's nice to draw men's eyes, inna it, auntie?'

'Nice! Hazel, I should like to box your ears! You naughty girl! You'll
go wrong one of these days.'

'What for will I, auntie?'

'Some day you'll get spoke to!' She said the last words in a hollow
whisper. 'And after that, as you won't say and do what a good girl
would, you'll get picked up.'

'I'd like to see anyone pick me up!' said Hazel indignantly. 'I'd
kick!'