The Carpenter's Children by Maggie Bennett Page A

Daniells’ school Isabel blossomed. Seated at a small table near to Miss Daniells’ desk, she was adored by the children, especially the five-year-olds who were her particular responsibility. She showed them how to form letters and numerals on their slates, allowing for their mixed abilities; from seven onwards the children had exercise books suppliedby the parish council, but reusable slates were more economical for the little ones’ scribbles. Her duties extended to their physical needs, and she took them to the lavatory, wiped runny noses and sticky hands, and was always there to pacify and encourage. She could play the piano when required, freeing Miss Daniells to stand in front of the whole school to teach a new song or chorus and explain the scriptural message it conveyed, made simple and tuneful for little voices. Miss Daniells was delighted with the benefits Isabel brought to the school and to herself, for she now felt far less tired. She praised Miss Munday to the Reverend Mr Saville on his regular visits to the school as chairman of the parish council and school governor; Miss Daniells assured him that her young assistant was worth every penny of the seven shillings and sixpence she was paid weekly.
    And there were the days when the vicar had other duties and responsibilities, and sent his curate Mr Storey in his place. Isabel blushed as she answered this visitor’s courteous questions about her duties with the little ones, and was rewarded by his smiling approval. He would then take time to go among her small pupils, praising whatever they’d scrawled on their slates and commending their teacher. To Isabel he was the epitome of all that a good clergyman should be, and it was impossible
not
to imagine falling in love with such an excellent young man, some ten years older than herself. She was thankfulthat he could not know how her heart fluttered when he came to the school, though she was unable to hide her blushes and hoped he put them down to shyness. As long as he remained unaware of her feelings, she thought, there was no great harm in indulging in her half-acknowledged dreams.
    How little she suspected Mark Storey’s own thoughts, and his dilemma over this beautiful young girl! He had been used to dropping in at the post office with letters to hand in or collect for the vicarage, and exchanging a smile and perhaps a casual remark about the weather with her. On the day he went in and noticed that she was no longer there, he was utterly dismayed, supposing that she had left North Camp to take up a new job; but on learning from Mr Teasdale that she was now a pupil-teacher at the church school, he gladly looked forward to many more opportunities to see and speak with her again: to feast his eyes upon her unspoilt beauty.
    For Mark Storey was in love, and had been ever since he had first seen her. And now his thoughts turned to the serious possibility of marrying her in another two or three years’ time. Girls married at eighteen, and he reasoned that if he had been appointed to a living by then, there would be a house available; and even if not, there might still be a house for a married curate, a home to which he could take her as a bride if she accepted him and her parents approved. But if he was moved from NorthCamp before then, another man might step in and claim her. For him she was everything that could be desired in a clergyman’s wife: a devout Christian, a dutiful daughter and good with children – ideal in every way except for the matter of her age. Mark’s thoughts circled round and round, without coming to any resolution.
    Then came a visit from the bishop of the Winchester diocese to Everham and its surrounding villages, North and South Camp and Hassett. His lordship was a pleasantly jovial man, outwardly uncritical, though neither Mr Saville nor his wife forgot for one moment that this was an inspection. Mark did not expect the great man to have much to say to a humble curate, but to his