Mrs. Monks ran to the door to see what brought them home; and Ida held out her arms to Frank begging to be taken to ride.
For almost the first time in his life, he took no notice of her pleading voice. He hardened himself by thinking:
"Perhaps Mrs. Monks thinks I stole the chain."
He merely told his mother that May had fainted in the school, and the teacher sent them home. Then jumping into the buggy, he rode away.
In the mean time, Mr. Monks returned to the recitation room and shut the door.
"Shall I tell them of my own experience?" he asked himself. "Can I open again the wound? They need a warning as to the danger of thinking evil of those about them. A lesson on charity would have double force now. But I cannot; no, such a confession is not required."
"Yet how can I see that noble boy and his tender, loving, pure-hearted sister sacrificed. How bravely he bore up, till he saw her overcome! From the moment he took his seat, I observed the marks of keen suffering on his open countenance. Yes, I will; I will confess my sin, my want of charity. For their sake, and as a warning to all my scholars, I feel that I can do it."
When he returned to the school-room, the scholars started to see what a pallor had taken the place of his usual ruddy color. He made not the slightest allusion to what had passed, but called up one class after another, hearing their recitations, and giving them their marks without a smile. Only when Annie Ross stood by his side, he gazed in her face a moment, put his hand gravely on her head, and repeated, as if to himself:
"'Faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.'"
The moment school was dismissed, the pupils rushed into the yard, where they could discuss the subject which occupied their thoughts.