CHAPTER XIV.
IF I was punctual in quitting Mdlle. Reuter's domicile, I was at leastequally punctual in arriving there; I came the next day at five minutesbefore two, and on reaching the schoolroom door, before I opened it, Iheard a rapid, gabbling sound, which warned me that the "priere du midi"was not yet concluded. I waited the termination thereof; it would havebeen impious to intrude my heretical presence during its progress. Howthe repeater of the prayer did cackle and splutter! I never before orsince heard language enounced with such steam-engine haste. "Notre Perequi etes au ciel" went off like a shot; then followed an address toMarie "vierge celeste, reine des anges, maison d'or, tour d'ivoire!" andthen an invocation to the saint of the day; and then down they all sat,and the solemn (?) rite was over; and I entered, flinging the door wideand striding in fast, as it was my wont to do now; for I had foundthat in entering with aplomb, and mounting the estrade with emphasis,consisted the grand secret of ensuring immediate silence. Thefolding-doors between the two classes, opened for the prayer, wereinstantly closed; a maitresse, work-box in hand, took her seat at herappropriate desk; the pupils sat still with their pens and books beforethem; my three beauties in the van, now well humbled by a demeanour ofconsistent coolness, sat erect with their hands folded quietly on theirknees; they had given up giggling and whispering to each other, and nolonger ventured to utter pert speeches in my presence; they now onlytalked to me occasionally with their eyes, by means of which organsthey could still, however, say very audacious and coquettish things. Hadaffection, goodness, modesty, real talent, ever employed those brightorbs as interpreters, I do not think I could have refrained from givinga kind and encouraging, perhaps an ardent reply now and then; but as itwas, I found pleasure in answering the glance of vanity with the gazeof stoicism. Youthful, fair, brilliant, as were many of my pupils, I cantruly say that in me they never saw any other bearing than such as anaustere, though just guardian, might have observed towards them. If anydoubt the accuracy of this assertion, as inferring more conscientiousself-denial or Scipio-like self-control than they feel disposed togive me credit for, let them take into consideration the followingcircumstances, which, while detracting from my merit, justify myveracity.
Know, O incredulous reader! that a master stands in a somewhat differentrelation towards a pretty, light-headed, probably ignorant girl, tothat occupied by a partner at a ball, or a gallant on the promenade.A professor does not meet his pupil to see her dressed in satin andmuslin, with hair perfumed and curled, neck scarcely shaded by aeriallace, round white arms circled with bracelets, feet dressed for thegliding dance. It is not his business to whirl her through the waltz,to feed her with compliments, to heighten her beauty by the flush ofgratified vanity. Neither does he encounter her on the smooth-rolled,tree shaded Boulevard, in the green and sunny park, whither she repairsclad in her becoming walking dress, her scarf thrown with grace over hershoulders, her little bonnet scarcely screening her curls, the red roseunder its brim adding a new tint to the softer rose on her cheek; herface and eyes, too, illumined with smiles, perhaps as transient as thesunshine of the gala-day, but also quite as brilliant; it is not hisoffice to walk by her side, to listen to her lively chat, to carry herparasol, scarcely larger than a broad green leaf, to lead in a ribbonher Blenheim spaniel or Italian greyhound. No: he finds her in theschoolroom, plainly dressed, with books before her. Owing to hereducation or her nature books are to her a nuisance, and she opens themwith aversion, yet her teacher must instil into her mind the contentsof these books; that mind resists the admission of grave information, itrecoils, it grows restive, sullen tempers are shown, disfiguring frownsspoil the symmetry of the face, sometimes coarse gestures banish gracefrom the deportment, while muttered expressions, redolent of native andineradicable vulgarity, desecrate the sweetness of the voice. Where thetemperament is serene though the intellect be sluggish, an unconquerabledullness opposes every effort to instruct. Where there is cunning butnot energy, dissimulation, falsehood, a thousand schemes and tricksare put in play to evade the necessity of application in short, to thetutor, female youth, female charms are like tapestry hangings, of whichthe wrong side is continually turned towards him; and even when he seesthe smooth, neat external surface he so well knows what knots, longstitches, and jagged ends are behind that he has scarce a temptation toadmire too fondly the seemly forms and bright colours exposed to generalview.
Our likings are regulated by our circumstances. The artist prefers ahilly country because it is picturesque; the engineer a flat one becauseit is convenient; the man of pleasure likes what he calls "a finewoman"--she suits him; the fashionable young gentleman admires thefashionable young lady--she is of his kind; the toil-worn, fagged,probably irritable tutor, blind almost to beauty, insensible to airs andgraces, glories chiefly in certain mental qualities: application, loveof knowledge, natural capacity, docility, truthfulness, gratefulness,are the charms that attract his notice and win his regard. These heseeks, but seldom meets; these, if by chance he finds, he would fainretain for ever, and when separation deprives him of them he feels as ifsome ruthless hand had snatched from him his only ewe-lamb. Such beingthe case, and the case it is, my readers will agree with me that therewas nothing either very meritorious or very marvellous in theintegrity and moderation of my conduct at Mdlle. Reuter's pensionnat dedemoiselles.
My first business this afternoon consisted in reading the list ofplaces for the month, determined by the relative correctness of thecompositions given the preceding day. The list was headed, as usual,by the name of Sylvie, that plain, quiet little girl I have describedbefore as being at once the best and ugliest pupil in the establishment;the second place had fallen to the lot of a certain Leonie Ledru, adiminutive, sharp-featured, and parchment-skinned creature of quickwits, frail conscience, and indurated feelings; a lawyer-like thing, ofwhom I used to say that, had she been a boy, she would have made amodel of an unprincipled, clever attorney. Then came Eulalie, the proudbeauty, the Juno of the school, whom six long years of drilling in thesimple grammar of the English language had compelled, despite the stiffphlegm of her intellect, to acquire a mechanical acquaintance with mostof its rules. No smile, no trace of pleasure or satisfaction appeared inSylvie's nun-like and passive face as she heard her name read first.I always felt saddened by the sight of that poor girl's absolutequiescence on all occasions, and it was my custom to look at her, toaddress her, as seldom as possible; her extreme docility, her assiduousperseverance, would have recommended her warmly to my good opinionher modesty, her intelligence, would have induced me to feel mostkindly--most affectionately towards her, notwithstanding the almostghastly plainness of her features, the disproportion of her form, thecorpse-like lack of animation in her countenance, had I not been awarethat every friendly word, every kindly action, would be reported by herto her confessor, and by him misinterpreted and poisoned. Once I laid myhand on her head, in token of approbation I thought Sylvie was going tosmile, her dim eye almost kindled; but, presently, she shrank from me;I was a man and a heretic; she, poor child! a destined nun and devotedCatholic: thus a four-fold wall of separation divided her mind frommine. A pert smirk, and a hard glance of triumph, was Leonie's method oftestifying her gratification Eulalie looked sullen and envious--she hadhoped to be first. Hortense and Caroline exchanged a reckless grimace onhearing their names read out somewhere near the bottom of the list; thebrand of mental inferiority was considered by them as no disgrace, theirhopes for the future being based solely on their personal attractions.
This affair arranged, the regular lesson followed. During a briefinterval, employed by the pupils in ruling their books, my eye, rangingcarelessly over the benches, observed, for the first time, that thefarthest seat in the farthest row--a seat usually vacant--wasagain filled by the new scholar, the Mdlle. Henri so ostentatiouslyrecommended to me by the directress. To-day I had on my spectacles; herappearance, therefore, was clear to me at the first glance; I had not topuzzle over it. She looked young; yet, had I been required to nam
e herexact age, I should have been somewhat nonplussed; the slightness of herfigure might have suited seventeen; a certain anxious and pre-occupiedexpression of face seemed the indication of riper years. She wasdressed, like all the rest, in a dark stuff gown and a white collar; herfeatures were dissimilar to any there, not so rounded, more defined, yetscarcely regular. The shape of her head too was different, the superiorpart more developed, the base considerably less. I felt assured,at first sight, that she was not a Belgian; her complexion, hercountenance, her lineaments, her figure, were all distinct from theirs,and, evidently, the type of another race--of a race less gifted withfullness of flesh and plenitude of blood; less jocund, material,unthinking. When I first cast my eyes on her, she sat looking fixedlydown, her chin resting on her hand, and she did not change her attitudetill I commenced the lesson. None of the Belgian girls would haveretained one position, and that a reflective one, for the same length oftime. Yet, having intimated that her appearance was peculiar, asbeing unlike that of her Flemish companions, I have little more to sayrespecting it; I can pronounce no encomiums on her beauty, for she wasnot beautiful; nor offer condolence on her plainness, for neitherwas she plain; a careworn character of forehead, and a correspondingmoulding of the mouth, struck me with a sentiment resembling surprise,but these traits would probably have passed unnoticed by any lesscrotchety observer.
Now, reader, though I have spent more than a page in describing Mdlle.Henri, I know well enough that I have left on your mind's eye nodistinct picture of her; I have not painted her complexion, nor hereyes, nor her hair, nor even drawn the outline of her shape. You cannottell whether her nose was aquiline or retrousse, whether her chin waslong or short, her face square or oval; nor could I the first day,and it is not my intention to communicate to you at once a knowledge Imyself gained by little and little.
I gave a short exercise: which they all wrote down. I saw the new pupilwas puzzled at first with the novelty of the form and language; onceor twice she looked at me with a sort of painful solicitude, as notcomprehending at all what I meant; then she was not ready when theothers were, she could not write her phrases so fast as they did; Iwould not help her, I went on relentless. She looked at me; her eyesaid most plainly, "I cannot follow you." I disregarded the appeal, and,carelessly leaning back in my chair, glancing from time to time with aNONCHALANT air out of the window, I dictated a little faster. On lookingtowards her again, I perceived her face clouded with embarrassment, butshe was still writing on most diligently; I paused a few seconds; sheemployed the interval in hurriedly re-perusing what she had written, andshame and discomfiture were apparent in her countenance; she evidentlyfound she had made great nonsense of it. In ten minutes more thedictation was complete, and, having allowed a brief space in which tocorrect it, I took their books; it was with a reluctant hand Mdlle.Henri gave up hers, but, having once yielded it to my possession, shecomposed her anxious face, as if, for the present she had resolved todismiss regret, and had made up her mind to be thought unprecedentedlystupid. Glancing over her exercise, I found that several lines had beenomitted, but what was written contained very few faults; I instantlyinscribed "Bon" at the bottom of the page, and returned it to her; shesmiled, at first incredulously, then as if reassured, but did notlift her eyes; she could look at me, it seemed, when perplexed andbewildered, but not when gratified; I thought that scarcely fair.
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