“Of course,” Mary Taylor hastened to encourage this turn of the conversation, “there are many points on which Miss Smith and I disagree, but I think everybody admires her work.”
Mrs. ¬ÝGrey wanted particulars.
“What did you disagree about?” she asked bluntly.
‚ÄúI may be responsible for some of the disagreement,‚Äù interrupted Mr. ¬ÝCresswell, hesitatingly; ‚ÄúI‚Äôm afraid Miss Smith does not approve of us white Southerners.‚Äù
“But you mean to say you can’t even advise her?”
‚ÄúOh, no; we can. But‚ÅÝ‚Äîwe‚Äôre not‚ÅÝ‚Äîer‚ÅÝ‚Äîexactly welcomed. In fact,‚Äù said Cresswell gravely, ‚Äúthe chief criticism I have against your Northerners‚Äô schools for Negroes is, that they not only fail to enlist the sympathy and aid of the best Southerners, but even repel it.‚Äù
‚ÄúThat is very wrong‚ÅÝ‚Äîvery wrong,‚Äù commented the Englishman warmly, a sentiment in which Mrs. ¬ÝGrey hastened to agree.
“Of course,” continued Cresswell, “I am free to confess that I have no personal desire to dabble in philanthropy, or conduct schools of any kind; my hands are full of other matters.”
‚ÄúBut it‚Äôs precisely the advice of such disinterested men that philanthropic work needs,‚Äù Mr. ¬ÝVanderpool urged.
‚ÄúWell, I volunteered advice once in this case and I shan‚Äôt repeat the experiment soon,‚Äù said Cresswell laughing. Mrs. ¬ÝGrey wanted to hear the incident, but the young man was politely reluctant. Mary Taylor, however, related the tale of Zora to Mrs. ¬ÝGrey‚Äôs private ear later.