A day or two later there seemed to be a change of atmosphere in Miss Root's classroom. Miss Root was very nice to Blue Bonnet—even trying to unravel hard knots, and Blue Bonnet gave strict attention. She stopped Blue Bonnet one day at the end of a period.
"You see what you can do when you try, Miss Ashe," she said.
Blue Bonnet flushed a warm red.
"I tried all the time, Miss Root—but—I reckon—maybe we didn't just understand each other."
The girl's sweet smile was more appealing than her words. Such spontaneity was infectious. A faint pink crept into the teacher's withered cheek, and for a moment the dull grey of her humdrum existence changed to a startling blue. She held out her hand.
"I daresay that was just the trouble. You are very young to have so much philosophy. If you are puzzled again, come to my room. I want you to like mathematics—they are great mental gymnastics. You must learn to get fun out of them."