If only you knew how imperfect I’ve been,Maggie thought wearily.I’m the last one who deserves to judge anyone else.
Her temper fizzling, she said, “Let’s not argue any more. If our brothers pester you, tell them to find me. I’ll talk to them and do what I can.”
“You’d love that, wouldn’t you? Showing me up once again. Saint Margaret to the rescue.”
With that parting shot, Delilah flounced out of the shop, knocking over a basket of fossils on the way.
Exhaling, Maggie went over to clean up the mess. She knelt, picking up the spiral-shaped fossils that she and Glory had gathered on the nearby coast of Charmouth. The fossils made excellent commemorative gifts and sold well to tourists.
If only someone would come into the store and buy some…
The bell jingled again. She looked up hopefully.
Her heart plummeted when she saw Mr. Snelling, the village schoolmaster, marching purposefully toward her. Since Maggie and her siblings had been taught by Mr. Snelling (or “Old Smelly,” as Jeremy had dubbed him), she was well acquainted with the wrathful look on his moon-shaped face. He’d never liked any of the Goodes, whom he labelled as troublemakers: unfortunately, he’d cast Glory in that category as well.
Rising, Maggie noticed absently that he looked a bit different today. His head seemed larger than usual in proportion to his small, stout body.
“Good day, Mr. Snelling,” she said, feigning a smile. “How can I help you?”
“It’s about Glory,” he said sternly.
Uh oh.“Has she, um, done something wrong?”
“The questioning of facts, the constant fidgeting, the fighting with the other children.” His voice shook with anger. “And that is only scratching the surface.”
Maggie had heard all these complaints before. “I apologize, Mr. Snelling, but you know it has been a difficult time for Glory since her papa’s death—”
“Yes, I understand. But this time the girl has gone too far,” the schoolmaster thundered.
“What are my niece’s supposed offenses, sir?”
This came from Hypatia, who had emerged from the backroom to join them. A former governess, she had strong views on the education of children and described Mr. Snelling’s methods as “backward.” As she’d explained to Maggie, Glory was an uncommonly bright child, who became bored when not challenged. And boredom led to mischief.
When Paul had been alive, Hypatia had generously taken over Glory’s education, but since his death, she’d been needed at the shop. Glory had had to return to the village school. The transition had not gone well.
“Glory challenged my authority.” Mr. Snelling bristled. “I was teaching a lesson on divine creation, and she had the temerity to interrupt. To argue that creatures were not created as God intended but hadtransmutedover time to adapt to their environments. Only the whispers of the devil could cause such blasphemy to leave a child’s lips!”
“Or Jean Baptiste Lamarck,” Hypatia said coolly.
“Who?” Snelling demanded.
“The French naturalist. Author ofPhilosophie Zoologique. I introduced Glory to several of his interesting hypotheses.”
“That explains it,” Snelling snapped. “He’s worse than the devil—he’s French.”
Patty looked at Maggie, her eyes aiming heavenward. “Given that Glory and I were examining the fossils she’d collected, it seemed only right to discuss Lamarck’s theories.”
“I understand.” Facing Mr. Snelling, Maggie said, “I apologize if Glory offended you, sir. She can be a spirited child, it’s true, but I assure you she meant no harm—”
“Meant no harm?” the schoolmaster yelled. “The damned brat stole mywig.”
The realization struck Maggie.Thatwas why Snelling looked different: the patch of hair on the top of his head was gone. A horrified giggle rose in her throat.
She slapped her hand over her mouth just in time. Hopefully, she looked appalled rather than on the edge of laughter. “I-I’m so s-sorry...”
“After class, I kept her sitting in the corner with the dunce cap,” he said through his teeth. “She was supposed to be contemplating her sins. I may have nodded off at my desk for a moment; when I came to, she—and my wig—had vanished.”
“Dunce cap?” Hypatia said, outraged. “Of all the antiquated, detrimental—”
