In a moment, the class was in utter confusion, each child struggling to escape.
"Never mind, Coral; let them go!" exclaimed Beryl, in a tone of disgust, as Coral attempted to hold back the runaways. "It is of no use trying to teach them anything; they are the stupidest little things I ever saw."
"Oh, what a pity!" said Coral regretfully. "And I thought that biggest one was just beginning to learn something."
"I wish I had not tried to keep school," said Beryl, tears of disappointment in her eyes. "I could not have believed they would be so tiresome. And I did so want to do something for the kingdom."
"Perhaps they will behave better next Sunday," suggested Coral.
Beryl shook her head despondingly. She could not trust herself to speak, for she felt so inclined to cry, and she could not bear that even Coral should know how keenly wounded she was.
Without another word she quitted the cave, and with grave, downcast face marched homewards. Coral, taking up the Bible and hymn-book, which Beryl had forgotten in her despair, followed at a little distance.
Beryl strode on in silence till she reached the steps leading to the garden. There she paused, and waited for Coral to come up.
"Well, no one can say that I have not tried to do something for the kingdom," was Beryl's remark as Coral gained her side.
"I expect we are not big enough," said Coral.