Part 10 (1/2)
”Mr. Curzon, of course; he's a clergyman, my dear!”
”Then you will go to the meeting to-night.”
”You must be crazed, May, to think of such a thing. I go to a school meeting! If there is one type of woman I dislike more than another, it's the one to be found on platforms.”
”I had not thought of you on a platform exactly. It only occurred to me that you would give Mr. Curzon your moral support, as your sympathies go with him. You carry weight, you see,” which was true in more senses than one.
Mrs. Webster put the most favourable interpretation upon the phrase.
”Of course, if you really think it my duty, May,” she said, softening visibly, ”and would come with me----”
”Oh, I intend going anyhow,” interposed May, carelessly.
”It's such a new departure for you to take a prominent part in parish things,” exclaimed Mrs. Webster.
”Oh, parish has nothing to do with it! I'm going as a disinterested spectator to see the two earnest ones fight it out.”
”My dear!” remonstrated her mother in a shocked tone.
”If I have a bias it's in favour of the rector. I don't pretend to understand the merits of voluntary versus board schools; but, as you say, a clergyman is always right--most probably Mr. Curzon's is the better cause, and most certainly he is the better man.”
”Dear, dear; and we shall have to dine at seven, and keep as we are, I suppose?” with a glance at the stately folds of her brocade dress.
”Yes; we won't treat a school meeting like a theatre,” said May, laughing. ”Will it be considered unduly flippant on my part to go in this muslin? or ought I to wear black, as at a funeral?”
”It cannot signify in the least; a change of dress would not alter your flippant mind,” replied her mother, with unusual smartness. ”Dear Mr.
Curzon has really convinced me that it is a most important subject, so I don't mind making a sacrifice for once in a way.”
”By dining an hour earlier than usual and not changing your dress! All right, mother; I'll order the carriage for ten minutes to eight. We may as well be punctual.”
The back benches of the schoolroom were crowded to overflowing when May and her mother entered that evening.
”It's very hot, May. I'm not sure that I can stay,” said Mrs. Webster, pausing in the doorway.
”Oh yes, mother; we'll see it through to the bitter end,” said May, in an undertone. ”There are seats in the front.”
Mrs. Webster picked her way daintily through the crowd, and Mr.
Lessing, who was seated at the end of one of the desks, stood up to let her pa.s.s. May's skirt caught against a nail, as she followed, and Paul bent to set it free; but as May turned smiling to thank him, it gave her a faint shock of surprise to read the dislike that found expression in his eyes. Her smile faded, and she pa.s.sed on her way with a haughty little bow.
”I wonder why he hates me? I am not aware that any man has ever viewed me with honest dislike before,” she thought, as she took her seat by her mother.
Paul, on his side, was inspired with the same unwilling admiration and active irritation as on the occasion of their first meeting at Brussels. Beautiful she undoubtedly was; so beautiful that his eyes unconsciously followed her every movement. The cordial greeting she accorded the rector--so different from her bow to himself,--and the poise of her head, as she turned to look at the rows of expectant faces behind her, giving a smiling nod to Mrs. Macdonald, who, duly impressed with the gravity of the occasion, sat by the side of her John with her hands clasping a clean pocket-handkerchief as if she were at church.
Paul tried to define the cause of his annoyance as he looked at her.
”It is the hard crust of indifference which society people cultivate to such perfection; it's the a.s.surance which beauty a.s.sumes. She has come here most probably in search of a new sensation,” he thought.
But the rector, who sat on a platform at the end of the room, with his two churchwardens, was already on his feet, and Paul pocketed his annoyance and settled himself to listen.
”My friends,” he began, ”we have met to-night to consider on what basis our school shall be carried on; whether at this crisis in school affairs, which demands an outlay of some seven or eight hundred pounds, the voluntary system shall be continued; or whether it shall be turned into a board school, paid for out of the rates, and managed by a committee chosen by the votes of the people. It is not a question that it has been necessary for us to discuss before. My people, I believe to a man, have been content to entrust the education of their children, the practical management of the school, to the churchwardens and myself, supporting us by their voluntary subscriptions; but a murmur has reached our ears that some of you are dissatisfied with this arrangement. My churchwardens and I feel reluctant to retain the management of the school unless fully a.s.sured that we are fulfilling the wishes of the majority of the people. You one and all know my views on this subject, and the principle that I believe to be involved in your decision. Whichever scheme is followed will mean a considerable outlay of money. It is for you to decide whether that money shall be exacted from you by rate, or whether it shall be given freely and liberally out of the means with which G.o.d has blessed you.”
The rector closed with a request that any one wis.h.i.+ng to address the meeting would come up to the platform, and, in answer to the challenge, Paul Lessing walked up the room and took his stand before the people.