"My dear Mr. Powle! But I never heard of such a thing in my life. I do not believe Dr. Cairnes will like it at all. He will think it very strange, your sending your boy to a man that is not a Churchman, and is not anything, that anybody knows of."
"Dr. Cairnes be hanged!" said the squire,—"and mind his own affairs.
He wouldn't want me to send Alfred to him."
"My dear Mrs. Powle," said Miss Broadus, "I can tell you this for your comfort—there are two sons of Mr. Churchill, the Independent minister of Eastcombe—that come over to him; besides one or two more that are quite respectable."
"Why does not Mr. Churchill send his boys to school it Eastcombe?"
"O well, it doesn't suit him, I suppose; and like goes to like, you know, my dear."
"That is what I think," said Mrs. Powle, looking at her husband,—"and
I wonder Mr. Powle does not think so too."
"If you mean me," said the squire, "I am not 'like' anybody—that I can tell you. A good schoolmaster is a good schoolmaster—I don't care what else he calls himself."
"And Mr. Rhys is a good schoolmaster, I have no doubt," said Miss
Broadus.
"I know what he is," said Julia; "he is a nice man, I like him."
"I saw he kept you quiet," said Eleanor. "How did he manage it?"