"To oblige thee, I will, friend. When Thomas Ashley gives orders, he is prompt in having them attended to; and he spoke, as I have informed thee, about a fresh boy to-day. Would it not be a help to thee, friend, if thee got thy other two boys into the school attached to the cathedral?"
"But I have no interest," said Jane. "I hear that education there is free; but I do not possess the slightest chance."
"Thee may get a chance, friend. There's nothing like trying. I must tell thee that the school is not thought highly of, in consequence of the instruction being confined exclusively to Latin and Greek. In the old days this was thought enough; but people are now getting more enlightened. Thomas Ashley was educated there; but he had a private tutor at home for the branches not taught at the college; he had also masters for what are called accomplishments. He is one of the most accomplished men of the day. Few are so thoroughly and comprehensively educated as Thomas Ashley. I have heard say thy sons have begun Latin. It might be a help to them if they could get in."
"I should desire nothing better," Jane breathlessly rejoined, a new hope penetrating her heart. "I have heard of the collegiate school here; but, until very recently I supposed it to be an expensive institution."
"No, friend; it is free. The best way to get a boy in is by making interest with the head-master of the school, or with some of the cathedral clergy."
A recollection of Mr. Peach flashed into Jane's mind as a ray of light. She bade good-night to Samuel Lynn and Anna, and to Patience as she passed the kitchen. Patience had been crying.
"I am grieved about Anna," she explained. "I love the child dearly, but Samuel Lynn is blind to her faults; and it argues badly for the future. Thee cannot imagine half her vanity; I fear me, too, she is deceitful. I wish her father could see it! I wish he would indulge her less and correct her more! Good night to thee."
Before concluding the chapter, it may as well be mentioned that a piece of good fortune about this time befell Janey. She found favour with Dobbs! How it came about perhaps Dobbs could not herself have told. Certainly no one else could.
Mrs. Reece had got into the habit of asking Jane into her parlour to tea. She was a kind-hearted old lady and liked the child. Dobbs would afterwards be at work, generally some patching and mending to her own clothes; and Dobbs, though she would not acknowledge it to herself or to any one else, could not see to thread her needle. Needle in one hand and thread in the other, she would poke the two together for five minutes, no result supervening. Janey hit upon the plan of threading her a needle in silence, whilst Dobbs used the one; and from that time Jane kept her in threaded needles. Whether this conciliated Dobbs must remain a mystery, but she took a liking for Jane; and the liking grew into love. Henceforth Janey wanted for nothing. While the others starved, she lived on the fat of the land. Meat and pudding, fowls and pastry, whatever dinner in the parlour might consist of, Janey had her share of it, and a full share too. At first Mrs. Halliburton, from motives of delicacy, would not allow Jane to go in; upon which Dobbs would enter, boiling over with indignation, red with the exertion of cooking, and triumphantly bear her off. Jane spoke seriously to Mrs. Reece about it, but the old lady declared she was as glad to have the child as Dobbs was.
Once, Janey came to a standstill over some apple pudding, which had followed upon veal cutlets and bacon. "I am quite full," said she, more plainly than politely: "I can't eat a bit more. May I give this piece upon my plate to Gar?"