CHAPTER III.
MONSIEUR BERANGER.
It was the half-hour intermission at school; and Marion and Florence hadtaken Julia Thayer up into their room to give her a taste of some of thegoodies they had brought from home with them. Their room was one of thelargest in the house, having two deep windows; one in front, the otheron the side. The side window faced the west, and in it the girls hadplaced a very pretty flower-stand filled with plants; an ivy was trainedagainst the side, and a lovely mirandia hung from the top. The frontwindow had a long seat fitted into it, and as it overlooked the streetit was here that the girls almost always sat at their work or studies.
"Now, Julie," began Marion, "which will you have, sponge or currant?"
"Why, you are getting awfully stingy!" exclaimed Flo; "give her some ofboth."
"No, she can't have both; it is altogether too extravagant. This is mytreat, and you need not make any comments."
"Well, if I can't have but one, I think I'll try sponge."
"Sensible girl! you knew it would not keep long. There, you shall havean Havana orange to pay you for your consideration."
"Please, ma'am," said Flo, in a voice of mock humility, "may I give hersome of my French candies?"
"Yes, if you'll be a very good girl, and never interfere again when I am'head-cook and bottle-washer.'"
The girls sat round the room chatting and eating; Flora and Julia wereon the bed, when Marion, who was at the front window, jumped up on theseat, and called out: "O Flo! Julie! do come here! Just look at this mancoming down the street. Such a swell!"
The two girls rushed precipitately to the window, and they all stoodlooking out with intense interest.
"I do declare, he is coming in here! Who in the world can he be? How hestruts!" said Marion. "What a startling mustache! I do wonder who in theworld he is."
"Allow me to see, young ladies; perhaps I can inform you," said a calmvoice directly in their ears; and, turning, they beheld Miss Stiefbach.She had entered the room just as they began their comments, and nowstood directly behind them. Florence and Julia fell back in dismay, andfor a second a look of amazement passed over Marion's face; but it wasonly a second, for she instantly replied to Miss Stiefbach, in the sameeager tone she had used when speaking to her companions: "Jump right uphere; you can see him better, for he is underneath on the steps."
Miss Stiefbach looked at her aghast, and for once she was overpowered.She, the calm, the dignified, the stately Miss Stiefbach--jump! It wastoo much. If a glance could have transfixed her, Marion would have beenimmovable for life. Miss Stiefbach's usually pale face was flushed to aburning red, and her voice was choked with suppressed excitement, as shesaid, "Young ladies, you will go at once to the school-room. MissBerkley, report to me in my study, immediately after the close ofschool;" and she sailed out of the room.
When she was gone, the girls stood and looked at each other, not exactlyknowing whether to laugh or cry; but Marion decided for herself, bysitting down on the floor, and bursting into a fit of uncontrollablelaughter. Florence held up her finger warningly, "Hush-sh-sh! Mab,she'll hop out from under the bed, like as not; do come downstairs."
"O girls! girls! that look!" shouted Marion. "Oh, I shall die! She wasfurious. Won't I catch it?"
"O Mab, how did you dare? It was awfully impudent."
"I know it, and I'm sure I don't know what made me say it. I neverstopped to think; it just popped out, and I would not have lost thatscene for anything;" and Marion went off again into one of herlaughing-fits.
"O Mab, do stop!" said Julia, rather impatiently; "you'll get us into apretty scrape."
"Well, I won't laugh another bit, if I can help it; come on!" and,jumping up, Marion ran downstairs, the others following her, into theschool-room; when, what was their astonishment to see before them "theswell," who had been the cause of all their trouble, standing talking toMiss Stiefbach. They went quietly to their seats, wondering what wouldhappen next. Marion whispered to Flo, "The new French teacher; a man, asI live, and not very old either. Won't we have fun?"
"Young ladies of the first class in French go into the anteroom, whereM. Beranger will examine you. Miss Christine, accompany them, andpreserve order." As Miss Stiefbach said this in her usual calm tones,Marion's recollections were almost too much for her; but she had alittle laugh all to herself, behind the cover of her desk, as she tookout her books.
The former French teacher had been a little, quiet woman, who hadallowed herself to be ruled over by her pupils; but she had gone back toFrance, and Miss Stiefbach had secured the services of M. Beranger, whowas recommended to her, both for his complete knowledge of his ownlanguage, and for his high moral character. The latter was indeed to beconsidered, for many foreigners, calling themselves professors, oftenprove to be mere worthless adventurers, knowing very little themselvesof what they attempt to teach others, and being in other respects unfitfor respectable society.
The young ladies were in quite a little flutter of expectation, as theytook their seats, for Mr. Stein, their old music-teacher, was the onlygentleman teacher of the establishment, and he was decidedly differentfrom this rather elegant-looking Frenchman. M. Beranger came in, bowedin a dignified manner, took his chair, and at once began questioning thegirls as to what they had studied, how far they were advanced, etc.Marion, who was ready for anything, and thought she might as well have alittle more fun for the scolding that she knew was in store for her,tried hard to get up a little excitement; pretending not to understandwhen M. Beranger spoke to her; replying to all his questions in English,notwithstanding his repeated ejaculations of "Mademoiselle, je ne vouscomprends pas du tout; parlez Francais." But Marion would not "parlezFrancais," disregarding the beseeching looks of Miss Christine, andeither made no reply, or obstinately spoke in English. For some time M.Beranger took no notice of her conduct, but went on questioning the restof the class; assuring the timid by his polite, considerate patience,and quietly correcting the mistakes of the more confident. At last,however, as Marion asked him some trifling question, he looked herdirectly in the face, and simply replied, "M'lle Berkley, si vous parlezl'Anglais, il faut que je vous mette dans la classe des petites filles."
Marion looked at him a moment, in doubt whether he could be in earnest;but there was no mistaking that calm, determined look. Two things werebefore her: to rebel, and go down to the lower class in disgrace, or toyield gracefully to what she knew to be right. She chose the latter, andreplied, "Monsieur, je pense que je resterai ici." As she said this,there was a slight flush of shame on her cheeks, and she bent her headwith a little gesture, which seemed to beg pardon for her rudeness. Atany rate, M. Beranger so understood it, and he ever afterwardsentertained a secret respect and admiration for M'lle Berkley.
That night, in her own room, Marion thus explained her singular conduct:"You see, Flo, I wanted to find out, in the first place, what sort ofstuff he was made of; whether he was to rule us, or we him, as we didpoor little mademoiselle; and I found out pretty quickly. He came hereto teach, not to be made game of. In two weeks, I expect to have thetrue Parisian accent, and to have entirely forgotten all the English Iever knew. Bonne nuit, ma chere;" and Marion turned over, and was asleepin five minutes.
Marion Berkley: A Story for Girls Page 3