“No! I won’t! I don’t like you well enough!”
Margaret gravely sent Blanche and the other children away to take their walk, and the brother and sister soon after took leave, when Flora called Ethel to hasten to the Ladies’ Committee, that they might arrange the disposal of the one hundred and fifty pounds, the amount of their gains.
“To see the fate of Cocksmoor,” said Ethel.
“Do you think I cannot manage the Stoneborough folk?” said Flora, looking radiant with good humour, and conscious of power. “Poor Ethel! I am doing you good against your will! Never mind, here is wherewith to build the school, and the management will be too happy to fall into our hands. Do you think every one is as ready as you are, to walk three miles and back continually?”
There was sense in this; there always was sense in what Flora said, but it jarred on Ethel; and it seemed almost unsympathising in her to be so gay, when the rest were wearied or perturbed. Ethel would have been very glad of a short space to recollect herself, and recover her good temper; but it was late, and Flora hurried her to put on her bonnet, and come to the committee. “I’ll take care of your interests,” she said, as they set out. “You look as doleful as if you thought you should be robbed of Cocksmoor; but that is the last thing that will happen, you will see.”
“It would not be acting fairly to let them build for us, and then for us to put them out of the management,” said Ethel.
“My dear, they want importance, not action. They will leave the real power to us of themselves.”
“You like to build Cocksmoor with such instruments,” said Ethel, whose ruffled condition made her forget her resolution not to argue with Flora.
“Bricks are made of clay!” said Flora. “There, that was said like Norman himself! On your plan, we might have gone on for forty years, saving seven shillings a year, and spending six, whenever there was an illness in the place.”
“You, who used to dislike these people more than even I did!” said Ethel.