Sitting on a low form, he leaned across the table and gazed at her.
Through the open window she could see Davey sitting up very stiff and straight in the spring-cart. He had taken his red history book from his pocket and was pretending to read. The child whom the man before her had called Deirdre was standing staring at him. A smile flitted across Mrs. Cameron's face. She thought that Davey had not forgiven her sex for the discomfiture it had put upon him that morning, and was determined to have nothing to do with little girls.
"That's our difficulty, the teacher," she said. "The only persons who have the education, who are able to be teachers, are—"
"Transports—convicts," he interrupted harshly. "Beg your pardon, ma'am"—his voice dropped contritely as he continued—"You were saying the only persons in the colony who could be school teachers are persons of evil character who could not be depended on not to corrupt the children. What are you going to do then?"
"We thought if we could get a young man with the education, who seemed reformed, we would give him a chance," she said. "For a while the mothers would go to the school and sit there during some of the lesson-times to see—"
"That the children did not learn more than their reading, writing and arithmetic."
"Yes," she smiled. "Do you think you would be willing to let your little girl come to the school if we can get a teacher?"
He flung off his seat and strode restlessly up and down the room.
"She's a wild cat. She wouldn't go unless—"
He threw back his head looking at her, a blithe defiance creeping into his eyes and voice.