to overwhelm and stifle her, and the effect of which was to keep her
standing unhelpful, when the others were busy bringing in the benches
and settling the room.

It was a tidy room, but it seemed very small when they ranged the
benches, and opened the door to the seven-and-twenty children, and
the four or five women who stood waiting. Ethel felt some dismay
when they all came pushing in, without order or civility, and would
have been utterly at a loss what to do with her scholars now she had
got them, if Richard and Flora had not marshalled them to the
benches.

Rough heads, torn garments, staring vacant eyes, and mouths gaping in
shy rudeness--it was a sight to disenchant her of visions of pleasure
in the work she had set herself. It was well that she had not to
take the initiative.

Mr. Wilmot said a few simple words to the mothers about the wish to
teach their children what was right, and to do the best at present
practicable; and then told the children that he hoped they would take
pains to be good, and mind what they were taught. Then he desired
all to kneel down; he said the Collect, "Prevent us, O Lord, in all
our doings," and then the Lord's Prayer.

Ethel felt as if she could bear it better, and was more up to the
work after this. Next, the children were desired to stand round the
room, and Mr. Wilmot tried who could say the Catechism--the two
biggest, a boy and a girl, had not an idea of it, and the boy looked
foolish, and grinned at being asked what was his name. One child was
tolerably perfect, and about half a dozen had some dim notions.