“Very likely, but your head is not Ethel’s, and there were twice as many people as the place was intended to hold.”
“A stuffy hole, full of peat-smoke, and with a window that can’t open at the best of times.”
“Peat-smoke is wholesome,” said Dr. May, looking provoking.
“You don’t know what it is, papa, or you would never let Ethel spend her life there. It is poisonous!”
“I’ll take care of Ethel,” said Dr. May, walking off, and leaving Norman in a state of considerable annoyance at being thus treated. He broke out into fresh exclamations against the horrors of Cocksmoor, telling Margaret she had no idea what a den it was.
“But, Norman, it can’t be so very bad, or Richard would not allow it.”
“Richard is deluded!” said Norman; “but if he chooses to run after dirty brats, why should he take Ethel there?”
“My dear Norman, you know it is all Ethel’s doing.”
“Yes, I know she has gone crazy after them, and given up all her Greek for it. It is past endurance!” said Norman, who had worked himself up into great indignation.
“Well, but surely, Norman, it is better they should do what they can for those poor creatures, than for Ethel to learn Greek.”