If he does it consciously, the chances are he is a snob for doing it.

If he does it unconsciously, as Dick did here, then the misfortune of the master by no means means the bliss of the boy.
Dick felt anything but blissful as he stalked moodily to the schoolroom that morning and growled his injuries to his allies.
But Mr Ashford, as soon as his first burst of temper had evaporated, like an honest, sensible man, sat down and reviewed the situation; and it occurred to him, on reviewing it, that he had made a mistake.

It was, of course, extremely painful and humiliating to have to acknowledge it; but, once acknowledged, it would have been far more humiliating to Mr Ashford's sense of honour to persist in it.
He summoned the boys once more to his presence, and they trooped in like three prisoners brought up on remand to hear their final sentence.
The master's mouth twitched nervously, and he half repented of the ordeal he had set before himself.
"You said just now, Richardson, that the punishment I proposed to inflict on you was not fair ?" "Yes, sir, we think so," replied Dick, simply.
"I think so, too," said Mr Ashford, equally simply, "and I shall say no more about it.

Now you can go." The boys gaped at him in mingled admiration and bewilderment.
"You can go," repeated the master.
Richardson took a hasty survey of his companions' countenances, and said-- "Will you cane us instead, please sir ?" "No, Richardson, that would not be fair either." Richardson made one more effort.
"Please, sir, we think we deserve something." "People don't always get their deserts in this world, my boy," said the master, with a smile.

"Now please go when I tell you." Mr Ashford rallied three waverers to his standard that morning.