Miss Beale finally gave the desired explanation with full detail and this preface:—
‘Before consenting to answer any questions, I think it right that we should state that when we sent in our resignation, we naturally supposed we should be allowed to do so without being required to give any reasons.
‘It was only after several weeks of resistance that, at the earnest appeal of Mr. Plumptre, who placed it before us as a moral duty, that we at last reluctantly consented to speak to him and to the Lady Visitors. From the course we adopted, I think you will see we are prompted [solely] ... by a desire for the good of a College in which we feel the warmest interest.’
The defects she deplored—pioneer mistakes she called them later—were then enumerated in detail, and she dwelt especially on the hindrance to education caused by so much authority being left to one individual, who could not possibly be in a position to know the abilities and standard of work of every pupil. Much harm, she pleaded, had been done
‘by withdrawing pupils from the school, compelling them without my consent and contrary to the wishes of their parents to attend College classes, although they are unable to spell correctly and are ignorant of the first principles of grammar; classes in which you know it is impossible to give that individual attention required by children of twelve, who, owing to the rank from which so many of our pupils are now derived, are singularly deficient in mental training, and require to be obliged in extra time to do work given them; to be trained, watched, educated by ladies (who alone can understand, and therefore truly educate) girls. My pupils in the school are not removed by competent professors who understand the subjects there taught. The instruction which is in itself good, and if given four or five years later would be beneficial, has been rendered useless.’
On learning Miss Beale’s reasons for leaving, and that her decision was irrevocable, Mr. Plumptre wrote: ‘I wish to state at once that I believe most thoroughly that what you have done has been done conscientiously because it seemed to you—painful as it was—to be in the line of duty.’ But before this letter reached her, Dorothea had accepted another post, that of head-teacher in the Clergy Daughters’ School at Casterton.