"That was another."
Mrs. Powle looked appealingly to Mr. Carlisle, as saying, How long would you let this go on? Turned her dissatisfied face again to Eleanor,
"What school is this, mistress? and where?"
"Mamma, if I tell you where it is, I am afraid you will be frightened.
It is a Ragged school."
"A Ragged school! What does that mean, Eleanor? What is a Ragged school?"
"A school to teach ragged children, mamma. Or rather, for ragged people—they are not most of them children; and perhaps I should not say they are ragged; for though some of them are, others of them are not. They are some of the wretchedest of the ragged class, at any rate."
"And Eleanor Powle can find nothing more suitable to do, than to go and teach such a set! Why you ought to have a policeman there to take care of you."
"We have several."
"Policemen!"
"Yes, ma'am."