Donal looked at Miss Carmichael. He did not at all relish her interference. He had never said he would give his lesson before any who chose to be present! But he did not see how to meet the intrusion. Neither could he turn back into the schoolroom, sit down, and begin. He put his hand on Davie’s shoulder, and walked slowly towards the lawn. The ladies followed in silence. He sought to forget their presence, and be conscious only of his pupil’s and his master’s. On the lawn he stopped suddenly.
“Davie,” he said, “where do you fancy the first lesson in the New Testament ought to begin?”
“At the beginning,” replied Davie.
“When a thing is perfect, Davie, it is difficult to say what is the beginning of it: show me one of your marbles.”
The boy produced from his pocket a pure white one—a real marble.
“That is a good one for the purpose,” remarked Donal, “—very smooth and white, with just one red streak in it! Now where is the beginning of this marble?”
“Nowhere,” answered Davie.
“If I should say everywhere?” suggested Donal.
“Ah, yes!” said the boy.
“But I agree with you that it begins nowhere.”