“Mrs. Ledwich. She sent back three of the Cocksmoor children this morning. It seems she warned them last Sunday without saying a word to us.”
“Sent them back from church!” said the doctor.
“Not exactly from church,” said Margaret.
“It is the same in effect,” said Ethel, “to turn them from school; for if they did try to go alone, the pew-openers would drive them out.”
“It is a wretched state of things!” said Dr. May, who never wanted much provocation to begin storming about parish affairs. “When I am churchwarden again, I’ll see what can be done about the seats; but it’s no sort of use, while Ramsden goes on as he does.”
“Now my poor children are done for!” said Ethel. “They will never come again. And it’s horrid, papa; there are lots of town children who wear immense long plaits of hair, and Mrs. Ledwich never interferes with them. It is entirely to drive the poor Cocksmoor ones away—for nothing else, and all out of Fanny Anderson’s chatter.”
“Ethel, my dear,” said Margaret pleadingly.
“Didn’t I tell you, Margaret, how, as soon as Flora knew what Mrs. Ledwich was going to do, she went and told her this was the children’s only chance, and if we affronted them for a trifle, there would be no hope of getting them back. She said she was sorry, if we were interested for them, but rules must not be broken; and when Flora spoke of all who do wear long hair unmolested, she shuffled and said, for the sake of the teachers, as well as the other children, rags and dirt could not be allowed; and then she brought up the old story of Miss Boulder’s pencil, though she has found it again, and ended by saying Fanny Anderson told her it was a serious annoyance to the teachers, and she was sure we should agree with her, that something was due to voluntary assistants and subscribers.”
“I am afraid there has been a regular set at them,” said Margaret, “and perhaps they are troublesome, poor things.”
“As if school-keeping were for luxury!” said Dr. May. “It is the worst thing I have heard of Mrs. Ledwich yet! One’s blood boils to think of those poor children being cast off because our fine young ladies are too grand to teach them! The clergyman leaving his work to a set of conceited women, and they turning their backs on ignorance, when it comes to their door! Voluntary subscribers, indeed! I’ve a great mind I’ll be one no longer.”