Adelaide flew from the room. She put on the funniest little poke bonnet that could well be invented. It was made of coarse grey stuff the same as their dresses, but it was lined with white, and had white strings, which she tied in a neat bow under her chin.
"You are a great comfort to me, Adelaide," said Miss Pinchin, when the girl joined her teacher. "I shall miss you when you go to the Hall of Contrition. Don't you remember how naughty you were when you first came to Discipline. I greatly fear I have a harder task before me in training those Mostyns."
"You are equal to it," said Adelaide. "You are equal to anything." She put her hand inside her teacher's arm and gave it almost an affectionate squeeze.
"Let's go to the wood and gather flowers," said Adelaide.
"My dear, you forget. Flowers are not allowed in Discipline."
"You will have flowers, to a small extent, in Contrition," said Miss Pinchin. "How, let us talk on holy subjects--on the straggles of the soul after righteousness. You have made a grand fight, and, like Christian of old, you are coming out of the Slough of Despond. I think highly of your future, Adelaide, and I feel that I--poor little humble I--have laid the foundation stone."
Adelaide, as was her custom, was quite silent. Miss Pinchin and she walked rapidly, although this part of the day was very hot and there was no shade anywhere. They were both scarlet and dripping with moisture when they returned to Discipline.
"This will do me good," said Adelaide. "It must get some of my wickedness out."
"It will, dear child, bless you. Now, I must attend to the Mostyns. I haven't an instant to spare."
While these things were going on, the Rector of Templemore, a truly unhappy man, was hurrying back as fast as ever he could to his home. He hardly thought at all of the Mostyns. He had left them in very good hands. Jane Faithful was well known to produce extraordinary results. But it was the thought of sending his child, his darling, he might almost say his best beloved, away from him for three long months, which tortured the Rector's brave heart.
How could he live without her? And in addition to the fact of his own loneliness he felt anxious about Maureen. He had left his dear little girl in a queer state of mind. He had left her with an expression on her sweet face which he had never seen there before.