“Lalage is to go to school after summer,” he said.
“My mother,” I replied with conviction, “is sure to be right about a matter like that.”
“I suppose she is; but Lalage won’t like it.”
The Canon sighed again, heavily. I tried to cheer him up.
“She’ll enjoy the companionship of the other girls,” I said. “I daresay she won’t have a bad time. After all, a girl of fourteen ought to have friends of her own age. It will be far better for her to be running about with a skipping rope in a crowd of other damsels than to be climbing chestnut trees and writing parodies in lonely pigstys.”
“That’s very much what your mother said. I wish I could think so. I’m dreadfully afraid that, brought up as she has been, she’ll have a bad time of it.”
“Anyhow, she won’t have half, as bad a time as the schoolmistress.”
I had hit upon the true line of consolation. The Canon smiled feebly, and I pursued my subject.
“There won’t, of course, be pigstys in the school, but——”
“I don’t think a pigsty is absolutely essential to Lalage’s comfort.”