"Oh, you talk to the schoolmaster like that, do you? But isn't there something about education acts and things? I don't know much about it. It's not my line, but the kid seems pretty young."
Ursula was not at all interested in lads and education acts. She wanted to talk about her own interesting condition or Mary's style of hairdressing. But she had made up her mind to be patient, and patient she would be.
"Mr. Woodcock," continued Mary with heat, "says in the Yorkshire Chronicle that the people who make education acts are legislating for the normal majority. It is the business of local knowledge to determine the exceptions."
"My dear Mary, you talk like a Member of Parliament. Are you really interested in these things?"
"Rural education? Yes, of course."
"Why 'of course'? I'm not. I never put my nose inside Middlethorpe. I don't know if there's a village school or not except when the beastly bell rings in the morning—and yet Foster seems to do pretty well on the farm."
"It's not entirely a question of money though, is it?"
Mary looked at Ursula with grave, wide eyes.
"Isn't it? Philanthropy, then, and all that sort of thing, I suppose. Does your schoolmaster enjoy it when you snatch his lambs away from him? Does he, Mary?"
She laughed.