You have brought some children to school already, I think.

I saw some rough-looking boys, who said they came from Cocksmoor." This embarked the doctor in the history of the ladies being too fine to teach the poor Cocksmoor girls, which he told with kindling vehemence and indignation, growing more animated every moment, as he stormed over the wonted subject of the bad system of management--ladies' committee, negligent incumbent, insufficient clergy, misappropriated tithes--while Mr.Wilmot, who had mourned over it, within himself, a hundred times already, and was doing a curate's work on sufferance, with no pay, and little but mistrust from Mr.Ramsden, and absurd false reports among the more foolish part of the town, sat listening patiently, glad to hear the doctor in his old strain, though it was a hopeless matter for discussion, and Ethel dreaded that the lamentation would go on till bedtime, and Cocksmoor be quite forgotten.
After a time they came safely back to the project, and Richard was called on to explain.

Ethel left it all to him, and he with rising colour, and quiet, unhesitating, though diffident manner, detailed designs that showed themselves to have been well matured.

Mr.Wilmot heard, cordially approved, and, as all agreed that no time was to be lost, while the holidays lasted, he undertook to speak to Mr.Ramsden on the subject the next morning, and if his consent to their schemes could be gained, to come in the afternoon to walk with Richard and Ethel to Cocksmoor, and set their affairs in order.

All the time Ethel said not a word, except when referred to by her brother; but when Mr.Wilmot took leave, he shook her hand warmly, as if he was much pleased with her.
"Ah!" she thought, "if he knew how ill I have behaved! It is all show and hollowness with me." She did not know that Mr.Wilmot thought her silence one of the best signs for the plan, nor how much more doubtful he would have thought her perseverance, if he had seen her wild and vehement.