I wish it had gone to the bottom, I do; but Miss Beatrice, she is
that foolhardy there ain't no doing nothing with her."
"I fancy that she has learnt a lesson," said Geoffrey.
"May be, may be," grumbled the old man, "but women folk are hard to
teach; they never learn nothing till it's too late, they don't, and
then when they've been and done it they're sorry, but what's the good o'
that?"
Meanwhile another conversation was in progress not more than a quarter
of a mile away. On the brow of the cliff stood the village of Bryngelly,
and at the back of the village was a school, a plain white-washed
building, roofed with stone, which, though amply sufficient and suitable
to the wants of the place, was little short of an abomination in the
eyes of Her Majesty's school inspectors, who from time to time descended
upon Bryngelly for purposes of examination and fault-finding. They
yearned to see a stately red-brick edifice, with all the latest
improvements, erected at the expense of the rate-payers, but as yet they
yearned in vain. The school was supported by voluntary contributions,
and thanks to Beatrice's energy and good teaching, the dreaded Board,
with its fads and extravagance, had not yet clutched it.
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