“The fact is this, dear,” said Mrs. Cardew, “and I must speak out plainly even at the risk of displeasing you—Cicely and Merry are exceedingly clever girls, but at the present moment they are very far behind other girls of their age. Their knowledge of foreign languages is most deficient. I have no doubt Miss Beverley has grounded them well in English subjects; but as to accomplishments, they are not getting the advantages their rank in life and their talent demand. Dear Cyril, we ought to forget ourselves and our interests for the children.”
“What has put all this into your head?” said Mr. Cardew. 40 “As, for instance—” He paused. “It seemed impossible––”
“What, dear?” asked his wife very earnestly.
“Well, I may as well say it. Has Merry been talking to you?”
“Our little Merry!” said Mrs. Cardew in astonishment. “Of course not. What in the world do you mean?”
“I will not explain just at present, dear. You have some idea in your head, or you wouldn’t speak to me as you do.”
“Well, the fact is, when my cousin, Lucia Lysle, was here yesterday she spoke very strongly to me on the subject of the girls’ education, and urged me to do what I knew you would never for a moment consent to.”
“And what is that?” asked Mr. Gardew. “I seem to be an awful bugbear in this business.”
“No, dear, no. I quite understand your scruples, and—and—respect them. But Lucia naturally wanted us to seize the opportunity of two vacancies at Aylmer House, Mrs. Ward’s school.”
“I shall soon begin to hate the name of Mrs. Ward,” said Cardew with some asperity.