is not the teaching I want, but just a home for her."

Mrs. Walsham felt puzzled. She did, in her heart, feel it to be a
liberty. Surely this wandering showman would find no difficulty in
getting his grandchild taken care of among people of his own rank in
life. It did seem most singular that he should seek to place the child
with her. Mrs. Walsham was not given to thinking what her neighbours
would say, but she thought of the buzz of comment and astonishment
which her taking the charge of this child would excite. She had been
particular in keeping her little school to some extent select, and as
it was now as large as she could manage unaided, she was able to make
it almost a favour to the farmers' wives to take their girls.

But to do Mrs. Walsham justice, this thought had less influence with
her than that of the time and care which would be required by a child
of that age in the house. Certainly, she thought, as she looked at her,
sitting with her eyes wide open and an expression of grave wonder in
her face, "she is a little darling, and as Jim saved her life I have a
special interest in her; but this is out of the question."

It was two or three minutes before she answered the showman's last
words.

"No, it cannot be done, Sergeant Wilks. No money that could be paid me
would make up to me for the charge of a child of her age. I am all day
in school, and what could a child, especially one accustomed to be out
all day, do with herself? The worry and anxiety would be immense. Were
it not for my school, it would be different altogether. A child of that
age, especially such a sweet little thing as your granddaughter seems
to be, would be a pet and amusement; but as it is, I am sorry to say