"But I 'm told you often call at Squire Farrell's," persisted the girl, not wholly reassured.
"To be sure I do, Bessie," replied Moore frankly. "And no wonder. The Farrells are pleasant people. Winnie is nice to chat with, and I like her brother. He is the cleverest lad in the country."
Bessie shook her head doubtfully, and a sunbeam that, slanting in the window, had comfortably nested in a coil of her bonny brown hair was rudely thrown forth to find no better resting-place than the floor, for the girl moved nearer to Moore as she spoke.
"He is too clever for his own good, I fear," she said. "The fewer dealings you have with Terence the better it will be for you."
Before Moore could reply the door opened, and Patsy, Micky, and Willy Donohue filed in, each clutching an arithmetic.
"Look, Tom," said Bessie, pointing out the new-comers.
Moore regarded the little party with wide-open eyes.
"Egad, Bessie," said he, "it's a committee. What do you lads want now?"
"Please, sir," said Patsy, acting as spokesman, "these two boys wants help wid their lessons. They each has a sum, sir, and their answer is sixpence apiece."
"Come here, then," said Moore, sweetly, "and I 'll hand it to you."