But there was something in her face this afternoon that he had not seen there before.
"It was a pity to talk to the children the way you did to-day," she said simply.
"Facts, Mrs. Cameron!" he cried gaily. "The facts of life presented in an interesting form are far more important to boys and girls than a knowledge of—let us say—geography."
"It was geography, among other things, we asked you to teach them," she replied.
"I beg your pardon, ma'am."
His pride was cut to the quick; he bowed, awkwardly.
"I shan't be coming to the school any more, Mr. Farrel," she said after a few moments. There was an odd mixture of dignity and humility in her bearing.
"We're all grateful to you for what you have done in teaching the children. I knew from the first that you were to be trusted—that no harm would come of your schooling—and Davey has told me that it is only when I am here that you talk as you have done to-day. You know I've been coming for my own learning and not to see that you taught properly. I came often because I wanted to learn, and keep up with Davey ... so that I could help him by-and-by, perhaps."
There was an unmistakable break in her voice.
"It was not very kind ... to laugh at me."