NEXT day the morning hours seemed
to pass very slowly at M. Pelet's;
I wanted the afternoon to come
that I might go again to the
neighbouring pensionnat and give
my first lesson within its pleasant
precincts; for pleasant they
appeared to me. At noon the hour
of recreation arrived; at one
o'clock we had lunch; this got
on the time, and at last St.
Gudule's deep bell, tolling slowly
two, marked the moment for which
I had been waiting.
At the foot of the narrow back-stairs
that descended from my room,
I met M. Pelet.
"Comme vous avez l'air rayonnant!" said
he. "Je ne vous ai jamais vu
aussi gai. Que s'est-il donc
passe?"
"Apparemment que j'aime les
changements," replied I.
"Ah! je comprends--c'est
cela-soyez sage seulement.
Vous etes bien
jeune--trop jeune pour le role
que vous allez jouer; il faut
prendre garde--savez-vous?"
"Mais quel
danger y a-t-il?"
"Je n'en sais
rien--ne vous laissez pas aller
a de vives
impressions--voila tout."
I laughed:
a sentiment of exquisite pleasure
played over my nerves
at the thought that "vives impressions" were
likely to be created; it was
the deadness, the sameness of
life's daily ongoings that had
hitherto been my bane; my blouse-clad "eleves" in
the boys' seminary never stirred
in me any "vives impressions" except
it might be occasionally some
of anger. I broke from M. Pelet,
and as I strode down the passage
he followed me with one of his
laughs--a very French, rakish,
mocking sound.
Again I stood
at the neighbouring door, and
soon was re-admitted
into the cheerful passage with
its clear dove-colour imitation
marble walls. I followed the
portress, and descending a step,
and making a turn, I found myself
in a sort of corridor; a side-door
opened, Mdlle. Reuter's little
figure, as graceful as it was
plump, appeared. I could now
see her dress in full daylight;
a neat, simple mousseline-laine
gown fitted her compact round
shape to perfection--delicate
little collar and manchettes
of lace, trim Parisian brodequins
showed her neck, wrists, and
feet, to complete advantage;
but how grave was her face as
she came suddenly upon me! Solicitude
and business were in her eye
--on her forehead; she looked
almost stern. Her "Bon jour,
monsieur," was quite polite,
but so orderly, so commonplace,
it spread directly a cool, damp
towel over my "vives impressions." The
servant turned back when her
mistress appeared, and I walked
slowly along the corridor, side
by side with Mdlle. Reuter.
"Monsieur will give a lesson
in the first class to-day," said
she; "dictation or reading will
perhaps be the best thing to
begin with, for those are the
easiest forms of communicating
instruction in a foreign language;
and, at the first, a master naturally
feels a little unsettled."
She was quite right, as I had
found from experience; it only
remained for me to acquiesce.
We proceeded now in silence.
The corridor terminated in a
hall, large, lofty, and square;
a glass door on one side showed
within a long narrow refectory,
with tables, an armoire, and
two lamps; it was empty; large
glass doors, in front, opened
on the playground and garden;
a broad staircase ascended spirally
on the opposite side; the remaining
wall showed a pair of great folding-doors,
now closed, and admitting: doubtless,
to the classes.
Mdlle. Reuter turned her eye
laterally on me, to ascertain,
probably, whether I was collected
enough to be ushered into her
sanctum sanctorum. I suppose
she judged me to be in a tolerable
state of self-government, for
she opened the door, and I followed
her through. A rustling sound
of uprising greeted our entrance;
without looking to the right
or left, I walked straight up
the lane between two sets of
benches and desks, and took possession
of the empty chair and isolated
desk raised on an estrade, of
one step high, so as to command
one division; the other division
being under the surveillance
of a maitresse similarly elevated.
At the back of the estrade, and
attached to a moveable partition
dividing this schoolroom from
another beyond, was a large tableau
of wood painted black and varnished;
a thick crayon of white chalk
lay on my desk for the convenience
of elucidating any grammatical
or verbal obscurity which might
occur in my lessons by writing
it upon the tableau; a wet sponge
appeared beside the chalk, to
enable me to efface the marks
when they had served the purpose
intended.
I carefully and deliberately
made these observations before
allowing myself to take one glance
at the benches before me; having
handled the crayon, looked back
at the tableau, fingered the
sponge in order to ascertain
that it was in a right state
of moisture, I found myself cool
enough to admit of looking calmly
up and gazing deliberately round
me.
And first I observed that Mdlle.
Reuter had already glided away,
she was nowhere visible; a maitresse
or teacher, the one who occupied
the corresponding estrade to
my own, alone remained to keep
guard over me; she was a little
in the shade, and, with my short
sight, I could only see that
she was of a thin bony figure
and rather tallowy complexion,
and that her attitude, as she
sat, partook equally of listlessness
and affectation. More obvious,
more prominent, shone on by the
full light of the large window,
were the occupants of the benches
just before me, of whom some
were girls of fourteen, fifteen,
sixteen, some young women from
eighteen (as it appeared to me)
up to twenty; the most modest
attire, the simplest fashion
of wearing the hair, were apparent
in all; and good features, ruddy,
blooming complexions, large and
brilliant eyes, forms full, even
to solidity, seemed to abound.
I did not bear the first view
like a stoic; I was dazzled,
my eyes fell, and in a voice
somewhat too low I murmured--
"Prenez vos
cahiers de dictee, mesdemoiselles."
Not so had I bid the boys at
Pelet's take their reading-books.
A rustle followed, and an opening
of desks; behind the lifted lids
which momentarily screened the
heads bent down to search for
exercise-books, I heard tittering
and whispers.
"Eulalie, je suis prete a pamer
de rire," observed one.
"Comme il a
rougi en parlant!"
"Oui, c'est
un veritable blanc-bec."
"Tais-toi,
Hortense--il nous ecoute."
And now the lids sank and the
heads reappeared; I had marked
three, the whisperers, and I
did not scruple to take a very
steady look at them as they emerged
from their temporary eclipse.
It is astonishing what ease and
courage their little phrases
of flippancy had given me; the
idea by which I had been awed
was that the youthful beings
before me, with their dark nun-like
robes and softly braided hair,
were a kind of half-angels. The
light titter, the giddy whisper,
had already in some measure relieved
my mind of that fond and oppressive
fancy.
The three I
allude to were just in front,
within half a
yard of my estrade, and were
among the most womanly-looking
present. Their names I knew afterwards,
and may as well mention now;
they were Eulalie, Hortense,
Caroline. Eulalie was tall, and
very finely shaped: she was fair,
and her features were those of
a Low Country Madonna; many a "figure
de Vierge" have I seen in Dutch
pictures exactly resembling hers;
there were no angles in her shape
or in her face, all was curve
and roundness--neither thought,
sentiment, nor passion disturbed
by line or flush the equality
of her pale, clear skin; her
noble bust heaved with her regular
breathing, her eyes moved a little--by
these evidences of life alone
could I have distinguished her
from some large handsome figure
moulded in wax. Hortense was
of middle size and stout, her
form was ungraceful, her face
striking, more alive and brilliant
than Eulalie's, her hair was
dark brown, her complexion richly
coloured; there were frolic and
mischief in her eye: consistency
and good sense she might possess,
but none of her features betokened
those qualities.
Caroline was little, though
evidently full grown; raven-black
hair, very dark eyes, absolutely
regular features, with a colourless
olive complexion, clear as to
the face and sallow about the
neck, formed in her that assemblage
of points whose union many persons
regard as the perfection of beauty.
How, with the tintless pallor
of her skin and the classic straightness
of her lineaments, she managed
to look sensual, I don't know.
I think her lips and eyes contrived
the affair between them, and
the result left no uncertainty
on the beholder's mind. She was
sensual now, and in ten years'
time she would be coarse--promise
plain was written in her face
of much future folly.
If I looked at these girls
with little scruple, they looked
at me with still less. Eulalie
raised her unmoved eye to mine,
and seemed to expect, passively
but securely, an impromptu tribute
to her majestic charms. Hortense
regarded me boldly, and giggled
at the same time, while she said,
with an air of impudent freedom--
"Dictez-nous
quelquechose de facile pour
commencer, monsieur."
Caroline shook
her loose ringlets of abundant
but somewhat coarse
hair over her rolling black eyes;
parting her lips, as full as
those of a hot-blooded Maroon,
she showed her well-set teeth
sparkling between them, and treated
me at the same time to a smile "de
sa facon." Beautiful as Pauline
Borghese, she looked at the moment
scarcely purer than Lucrece de
Borgia. Caroline was of noble
family. I heard her lady-mother's
character afterwards, and then
I ceased to wonder at the precocious
accomplishments of the daughter.
These three, I at once saw, deemed
themselves the queens of the
school, and conceived that by
their splendour they threw all
the rest into the shade. In less
than five minutes they had thus
revealed to me their characters,
and in less than five minutes
I had buckled on a breast-plate
of steely indifference, and let
down a visor of impassible austerity.
"Take your pens and commence
writing," said I, in as dry and
trite a voice as if I had been
addressing only Jules Vanderkelkov
and Co.
The dictee
now commenced. My three belles
interrupted me perpetually
with little silly questions and
uncalled-for remarks, to some
of which I made no answer, and
to others replied very quietly
and briefly. "Comment dit-on
point et virgule en Anglais,
monsieur?"
"Semi-colon,
mademoiselle."
"Semi-collong? Ah, comme c'est
drole!" (giggle.)
"J'ai une si
mauvaise plume--impossible
d'ecrire!"
"Mais, monsieur--je
ne sais pas suivre--vous allez
si vite."
"Je n'ai rien
compris, moi!"
Here a general murmur arose,
and the teacher, opening her
lips for the first time, ejaculated--
"Silence, mesdemoiselles!"
No silence followed--on the
contrary, the three ladies in
front began to talk more loudly.
"C'est si difficile,
l'Anglais!"
"Je deteste
la dictee."
"Quel ennui
d'ecrire quelquechose que l'on
ne comprend pas!"
Some of those behind laughed:
a degree of confusion began to
pervade the class; it was necessary
to take prompt measures.
"Donnez-moi votre cahier," said
I to Eulalie in an abrupt tone;
and bending over, I took it before
she had time to give it.
"Et vous, mademoiselle-donnez-moi
le votre," continued I, more
mildly, addressing a little pale,
plain looking girl who sat in
the first row of the other division,
and whom I had remarked as being
at once the ugliest and the most
attentive in the room; she rose
up, walked over to me, and delivered
her book with a grave, modest
curtsey. I glanced over the two
dictations; Eulalie's was slurred,
blotted, and full of silly mistakes--Sylvie's
(such was the name of the ugly
little girl) was clearly written,
it contained no error against
sense, and but few faults of
orthography. I coolly read aloud
both exercises, marking the faults--then
I looked at Eulalie:
"C'est honteux!" said
I, and I deliberately tore
her dictation
in four parts, and presented
her with the fragments. I returned
Sylvie her book with a smile,
saying--
"C'est bien--je
suis content de vous."
Sylvie looked calmly pleased,
Eulalie swelled like an incensed
turkey, but the mutiny was quelled:
the conceited coquetry and futile
flirtation of the first bench
were exchanged for a taciturn
sullenness, much more convenient
to me, and the rest of my lesson
passed without interruption.
A bell clanging out in the
yard announced the moment for
the cessation of school labours.
I heard our own bell at the same
time, and that of a certain public
college immediately after. Order
dissolved instantly; up started
every pupil, I hastened to seize
my hat, bow to the maitresse,
and quit the room before the
tide of externats should pour
from the inner class, where I
knew near a hundred were prisoned,
and whose rising tumult I already
heard.
I had scarcely crossed the
hall and gained the corridor,
when Mdlle. Reuter came again
upon me.
"Step in here a moment," said
she, and she held open the door
of the side room from whence
she had issued on my arrival;
it was a SALLE-A-MANGER, as appeared
from the beaufet and the armoire
vitree, filled with glass and
china, which formed part of its
furniture. Ere she had closed
the door on me and herself, the
corridor was already filled with
day-pupils, tearing down their
cloaks, bonnets, and cabas from
the wooden pegs on which they
were suspended; the shrill voice
of a maitresse was heard at intervals
vainly endeavouring to enforce
some sort of order; vainly, I
say: discipline there was none
in these rough ranks, and yet
this was considered one of the
best-conducted schools in Brussels.
"Well, you have given your
first lesson," began Mdlle. Reuter
in the most calm, equable voice,
as though quite unconscious of
the chaos from which we were
separated only by a single wall.
"Were you satisfied
with your pupils, or did any
circumstance
in their conduct give you cause
for complaint? Conceal nothing
from me, repose in me entire
confidence."
Happily, I felt in myself complete
power to manage my pupils without
aid; the enchantment, the golden
haze which had dazzled my perspicuity
at first, had been a good deal
dissipated. I cannot say I was
chagrined or downcast by the
contrast which the reality of
a pensionnat de demoiselles presented
to my vague ideal of the same
community; I was only enlightened
and amused; consequently, I felt
in no disposition to complain
to Mdlle. Reuter, and I received
her considerate invitation to
confidence with a smile.
"A thousand
thanks, mademoiselle, all has
gone very smoothly."
She looked more than doubtful.
"Et les trois demoiselles du
premier banc?" said she.
"Ah! tout va au mieux!" was
my answer, and Mdlle. Reuter
ceased to question me; but her
eye--not large, not brilliant,
not melting, or kindling, but
astute, penetrating, practical,
showed she was even with me;
it let out a momentary gleam,
which said plainly, "Be as close
as you like, I am not dependent
on your candour; what you would
conceal I already know."
By a transition so quiet as
to be scarcely perceptible, the
directress's manner changed;
the anxious business-air passed
from her face, and she began
chatting about the weather and
the town, and asking in neighbourly
wise after M. and Madame Pelet.
I answered all her little questions;
she prolonged her talk, I went
on following its many little
windings; she sat so long, said
so much, varied so often the
topics of discourse, that it
was not difficult to perceive
she had a particular aim in thus
detaining me. Her mere words
could have afforded no clue to
this aim, but her countenance
aided; while her lips uttered
only affable commonplaces, her
eyes reverted continually to
my face. Her glances were not
given in full, but out of the
corners, so quietly, so stealthily,
yet I think I lost not one. I
watched her as keenly as she
watched me; I perceived soon
that she was feeling after my
real character; she was searching
for salient points, and weak;
points, and eccentric points;
she was applying now this test,
now that, hoping in the end to
find some chink, some niche,
where she could put in her little
firm foot and stand upon my neck--mistress
of my nature, Do not mistake
me, reader, it was no amorous
influence she wished to gain--at
that time it was only the power
of the politician to which she
aspired; I was now installed
as a professor in her establishment,
and she wanted to know where
her mind was superior to mine--by
what feeling or opinion she could
lead me.
I enjoyed the game much, and
did not hasten its conclusion;
sometimes I gave her hopes, beginning
a sentence rather weakly, when
her shrewd eye would light up--she
thought she had me; having led
her a little way, I delighted
to turn round and finish with
sound, hard sense, whereat her
countenance would fall. At last
a servant entered to announce
dinner; the conflict being thus
necessarily terminated, we parted
without having gained any advantage
on either side: Mdlle. Reuter
had not even given me an opportunity
of attacking her with feeling,
and I had managed to baffle her
little schemes of craft. It was
a regular drawn battle. I again
held out my hand when I left
the room, she gave me hers; it
was a small and white hand, but
how cool! I met her eye too in
full--obliging her to give me
a straightforward look; this
last test went against me: it
left her as it found her --moderate,
temperate, tranquil; me it disappointed.
"I am growing wiser," thought
I, as I walked back to M. Pelet's. "Look
at this little woman; is she
like the women of novelists and
romancers? To read of female
character as depicted in Poetry
and Fiction, one would think
it was made up of sentiment,
either for good or bad--here
is a specimen, and a most sensible
and respectable specimen, too,
whose staple ingredient is abstract
reason. No Talleyrand was ever
more passionless than Zoraide
Reuter!" So I thought then; I
found afterwards that blunt susceptibilities
are very consistent with strong
propensities.
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