“Richard,” said Ethel, “I’ll tell you what. Suppose we were to get up a Sunday-school at Cocksmoor. We could get a room, and walk there every Sunday afternoon, and go to church in the evening instead.”
He was so confounded by the suddenness of the project, that he did not answer, till she had time for several exclamations and “Well, Richard?”
“I cannot tell,” he said. “Going to church in the evening would interfere with tea-time--put out all the house--make the evening uncomfortable.”
“The evenings are horrid now, especially Sundays,” said Ethel.
“But missing two more would make them worse for the others.”
“Papa is always with Margaret,” said Ethel. “We are of no use to him. Besides these poor children--are not they of more importance?”
“And, then, what is to become of Stoneborough school?”
“I hate it,” exclaimed Ethel; then seeing Richard shocked, and finding she had spoken more vehemently than she intended--“It is not as bad for you among the boys, but, while that committee goes on it is not the least use to try to teach the girls right. Oh! the fusses about the books, and one’s way of teaching! And fancy how Mrs Ledwich used us. You know I went again last Sunday, for the first time, and there I found that class of Margaret’s, that she had just managed to get into some degree of nice order, taken so much pains with, taught so well. She had been telling me what to hear them--there it is given away to Fanny Anderson, who is no more fit to teach than that stick, and all Margaret’s work will be undone. No notice to us--not even the civility to wait and see when she gets better.”
“If we left them now for Cocksmoor, would it not look as it we were affronted?”
Ethel was slightly taken aback, but only said, “Papa would be very angry if he knew it.”
“I am glad you did not tell him,” said Richard.
“I thought it would only tease him,” said Ethel, “and that he might call it a petty female squabble; and when Margaret is well, it will come right, if Fanny Anderson has not spoiled the girls in the meantime. It is all Mrs. Ledwich’s doing. How I did hate it when every one came up and shook hands with me, and asked after Margaret and papa, only just out of curiosity!”
“Hush, hush, Ethel, what’s the use of thinking such things?”