The mother turned with her calm, almost superb manner.
“What has she done, then?”
“Done? She shall go in the church no more, pulling and littering and destroying.”
The wife slowly rolled her eyes and lowered her eyelids.
“What has she destroyed, then?”
He did not know.
“I’ve just had Mrs. Wilkinson at me,” he cried, “with a list of things she’s done.”
Ursula withered under the contempt and anger of the “she”, as he spoke of her.
“Send Mrs. Wilkinson here to me with a list of the things she’s done,” said Anna. “I am the one to hear that.”
“It’s not the things the child has done,” continued the mother, “that have put you out so much, it’s because you can’t bear being spoken to by that old woman. But you haven’t the courage to turn on her when she attacks you, you bring your rage here.”