CHAPTER XVIII.
THE young Anglo-Swiss evidently derived both pleasure and profit fromthe study of her mother-tongue. In teaching her I did not, of course,confine myself to the ordinary school routine; I made instruction inEnglish a channel for instruction in literature. I prescribed to her acourse of reading; she had a little selection of English classics, afew of which had been left her by her mother, and the others she hadpurchased with her own penny-fee. I lent her some more modern works; allthese she read with avidity, giving me, in writing, a clear summary ofeach work when she had perused it. Composition, too, she delighted in.Such occupation seemed the very breath of her nostrils, and soon herimproved productions wrung from me the avowal that those qualities inher I had termed taste and fancy ought rather to have been denominatedjudgment and imagination. When I intimated so much, which I did as usualin dry and stinted phrase, I looked for the radiant and exulting smilemy one word of eulogy had elicited before; but Frances coloured. If shedid smile, it was very softly and shyly; and instead of looking up to mewith a conquering glance, her eyes rested on my hand, which, stretchedover her shoulder, was writing some directions with a pencil on themargin of her book.
"Well, are you pleased that I am satisfied with your progress?" I asked.
"Yes," said she slowly, gently, the blush that had half subsidedreturning.
"But I do not say enough, I suppose?" I continued. "My praises are toocool?"
She made no answer, and, I thought, looked a little sad. I divined herthoughts, and should much have liked to have responded to them, hadit been expedient so to do. She was not now very ambitious ofmy admiration--not eagerly desirous of dazzling me; a littleaffection--ever so little--pleased her better than all the panegyrics inthe world. Feeling this, I stood a good while behind her, writing onthe margin of her book. I could hardly quit my station or relinquish myoccupation something retained me bending there, my head very nearhers, and my hand near hers too; but the margin of a copy-book is not anillimitable space--so, doubtless, the directress thought; and she tookoccasion to walk past in order to ascertain by what art I prolonged sodisproportionately the period necessary for filling it. I was obliged togo. Distasteful effort--to leave what we most prefer!
Frances did not become pale or feeble in consequence of her sedentaryemployment; perhaps the stimulus it communicated to her mindcounterbalanced the inaction it imposed on her body. She changed,indeed, changed obviously and rapidly; but it was for the better. WhenI first saw her, her countenance was sunless, her complexion colourless;she looked like one who had no source of enjoyment, no store of blissanywhere in the world; now the cloud had passed from her mien, leavingspace for the dawn of hope and interest, and those feelings rose like aclear morning, animating what had been depressed, tinting what had beenpale. Her eyes, whose colour I had not at first known, so dim were theywith repressed tears, so shadowed with ceaseless dejection, now, lit bya ray of the sunshine that cheered her heart, revealed irids of brighthazel--irids large and full, screened with long lashes; and pupilsinstinct with fire. That look of wan emaciation which anxiety or lowspirits often communicates to a thoughtful, thin face, rather long thanround, having vanished from hers, a clearness of skin almost bloom,and a plumpness almost embonpoint, softened the decided lines ofher features. Her figure shared in this beneficial change; it becamerounder, and as the harmony of her form was complete and her stature ofthe graceful middle height, one did not regret (or at least I did notregret) the absence of confirmed fulness, in contours, still slight,though compact, elegant, flexible--the exquisite turning of waist,wrist, hand, foot, and ankle satisfied completely my notions ofsymmetry, and allowed a lightness and freedom of movement whichcorresponded with my ideas of grace.
Thus improved, thus wakened to life, Mdlle. Henri began to take anew footing in the school; her mental power, manifested gradually butsteadily, ere long extorted recognition even from the envious; and whenthe young and healthy saw that she could smile brightly, converse gaily,move with vivacity and alertness, they acknowledged in her a sisterhoodof youth and health, and tolerated her as of their kind accordingly.
To speak truth, I watched this change much as a gardener watches thegrowth of a precious plant, and I contributed to it too, even as thesaid gardener contributes to the development of his favourite. To me itwas not difficult to discover how I could best foster my pupil, cherishher starved feelings, and induce the outward manifestation of thatinward vigour which sunless drought and blighting blast had hithertoforbidden to expand. Constancy of attention--a kindness as muteas watchful, always standing by her, cloaked in the rough garb ofausterity, and making its real nature known only by a rare glance ofinterest, or a cordial and gentle word; real respect masked with seemingimperiousness, directing, urging her actions, yet helping her too, andthat with devoted care: these were the means I used, for these meansbest suited Frances' feelings, as susceptible as deep vibrating--hernature at once proud and shy.
The benefits of my system became apparent also in her altered demeanouras a teacher; she now took her place amongst her pupils with an airof spirit and firmness which assured them at once that she meant to beobeyed--and obeyed she was. They felt they had lost their power overher. If any girl had rebelled, she would no longer have taken herrebellion to heart; she possessed a source of comfort they could notdrain, a pillar of support they could not overthrow: formerly, wheninsulted, she wept; now, she smiled.
The public reading of one of her devoirs achieved the revelation of hertalents to all and sundry; I remember the subject--it was an emigrant'sletter to his friends at home. It opened with simplicity; some naturaland graphic touches disclosed to the reader the scene of virgin forestand great, New-World river--barren of sail and flag--amidst which theepistle was supposed to be indited. The difficulties and dangers thatattend a settler's life, were hinted at; and in the few words said onthat subject, Mdlle. Henri failed not to render audible the voice ofresolve, patience, endeavour. The disasters which had driven himfrom his native country were alluded to; stainless honour, inflexibleindependence, indestructible self-respect there took the word. Pastdays were spoken of; the grief of parting, the regrets of absence, weretouched upon feeling, forcible and fine, breathed eloquent in everyperiod. At the close, consolation was suggested; religious faith becamethere the speaker, and she spoke well.
The devoir was powerfully written in language at once chaste and choice,in a style nerved with vigour and graced with harmony.
Mdlle. Reuter was quite sufficiently acquainted with English tounderstand it when read or spoken in her presence, though she couldneither speak nor write it herself. During the perusal of this devoir,she sat placidly busy, her eyes and fingers occupied with the formationof a "riviere" or open-work hem round a cambric handkerchief; shesaid nothing, and her face and forehead, clothed with a mask of purelynegative expression, were as blank of comment as her lips. As neithersurprise, pleasure, approbation, nor interest were evinced in hercountenance, so no more were disdain, envy, annoyance, weariness; ifthat inscrutable mien said anything, it was simply this--
"The matter is too trite to excite an emotion, or call forth anopinion."
As soon as I had done, a hum rose; several of the pupils, pressing roundMdlle. Henri, began to beset her with compliments; the composed voice ofthe directress was now heard:--
"Young ladies, such of you as have cloaks and umbrellas will hastento return home before the shower becomes heavier" (it was raining alittle), "the remainder will wait till their respective servants arriveto fetch them." And the school dispersed, for it was four o'clock.
"Monsieur, a word," said Mdlle. Reuter, stepping on to the estrade, andsignifying, by a movement of the hand, that she wished me to relinquish,for an instant, the castor I had clutched.
"Mademoiselle, I am at your service."
"Monsieur, it is of course an excellent plan to encourage effort inyoung people by making conspicuous the progress of any particularlyindustrious pupil; but do you not think that in the present
instance,Mdlle. Henri can hardly be considered as a concurrent with the otherpupils? She is older than most of them, and has had advantages of anexclusive nature for acquiring a knowledge of English; on the otherhand, her sphere of life is somewhat beneath theirs; under thesecircumstances, a public distinction, conferred upon Mdlle. Henri, may bethe means of suggesting comparisons, and exciting feelings such as wouldbe far from advantageous to the individual forming their object. Theinterest I take in Mdlle. Henri's real welfare makes me desirous ofscreening her from annoyances of this sort; besides, monsieur, as Ihave before hinted to you, the sentiment of AMOUR-PROPRE has a somewhatmarked preponderance in her character; celebrity has a tendency tofoster this sentiment, and in her it should be rather repressed--sherather needs keeping down than bringing forward; and then I think,monsieur--it appears to me that ambition, LITERARY ambition especially,is not a feeling to be cherished in the mind of a woman: would notMdlle. Henri be much safer and happier if taught to believe that in thequiet discharge of social duties consists her real vocation, than ifstimulated to aspire after applause and publicity? She may never marry;scanty as are her resources, obscure as are her connections, uncertainas is her health (for I think her consumptive, her mother died of thatcomplaint), it is more than probable she never will. I do not see howshe can rise to a position, whence such a step would be possible; buteven in celibacy it would be better for her to retain the character andhabits of a respectable decorous female."
"Indisputably, mademoiselle," was my answer. "Your opinion admits of nodoubt;" and, fearful of the harangue being renewed, I retreated undercover of that cordial sentence of assent.
At the date of a fortnight after the little incident noted above, I findit recorded in my diary that a hiatus occurred in Mdlle. Henri's usuallyregular attendance in class. The first day or two I wondered at herabsence, but did not like to ask an explanation of it; I thought indeedsome chance word might be dropped which would afford me the informationI wished to obtain, without my running the risk of exciting silly smilesand gossiping whispers by demanding it. But when a week passed andthe seat at the desk near the door still remained vacant, and whenno allusion was made to the circumstance by any individual of theclass--when, on the contrary, I found that all observed a marked silenceon the point--I determined, COUTE QUI COUTE, to break the ice of thissilly reserve. I selected Sylvie as my informant, because from her Iknew that I should at least get a sensible answer, unaccompanied bywriggle, titter, or other flourish of folly.
"Ou donc est Mdlle. Henri?" I said one day as I returned anexercise-book I had been examining.
"Elle est partie, monsieur."
"Partie? et pour combien de temps? Quand reviendra-t-elle?"
"Elle est partie pour toujours, monsieur; elle ne reviendra plus."
"Ah!" was my involuntary exclamation then after a pause:--
"En etes-vous bien sure, Sylvie?"
"Oui, oui, monsieur, mademoiselle la directrice nous l'a dit elle-memeil y a deux ou trois jours."
And I could pursue my inquiries no further; time, place, andcircumstances forbade my adding another word. I could neither comment onwhat had been said, nor demand further particulars. A question as to thereason of the teacher's departure, as to whether it had been voluntaryor otherwise, was indeed on my lips, but I suppressed it--there werelisteners all round. An hour after, in passing Sylvie in the corridor asshe was putting on her bonnet, I stopped short and asked:--
"Sylvie, do you know Mdlle. Henri's address? I have some books of hers,"I added carelessly, "and I should wish to send them to her."
"No, monsieur," replied Sylvie; "but perhaps Rosalie, the portress, willbe able to give it you."
Rosalie's cabinet was just at hand; I stepped in and repeated theinquiry. Rosalie--a smart French grisette--looked up from her work witha knowing smile, precisely the sort of smile I had been so desirous toavoid exciting. Her answer was prepared; she knew nothing whateverof Mdlle. Henri's address--had never known it. Turning from her withimpatience--for I believed she lied and was hired to lie--I almostknocked down some one who had been standing at my back; it was thedirectress. My abrupt movement made her recoil two or three steps. I wasobliged to apologize, which I did more concisely than politely. No manlikes to be dogged, and in the very irritable mood in which I thenwas the sight of Mdlle. Reuter thoroughly incensed me. At the moment Iturned her countenance looked hard, dark, and inquisitive; her eyeswere bent upon me with an expression of almost hungry curiosity. I hadscarcely caught this phase of physiognomy ere it had vanished; abland smile played on her features; my harsh apology was received withgood-humoured facility.
"Oh, don't mention it, monsieur; you only touched my hair with yourelbow; it is no worse, only a little dishevelled." She shook it back,and passing her fingers through her curls, loosened them into morenumerous and flowing ringlets. Then she went on with vivacity:
"Rosalie, I was coming to tell you to go instantly and close the windowsof the salon the wind is rising, and the muslin curtains will becovered with dust."
Rosalie departed. "Now," thought I, "this will not do; Mdlle. Reuterthinks her meanness in eaves-dropping is screened by her art in devisinga pretext, whereas the muslin curtains she speaks of are not moretransparent than this same pretext." An impulse came over me to thrustthe flimsy screen aside, and confront her craft boldly with a word ortwo of plain truth. "The rough-shod foot treads most firmly on slipperyground," thought I; so I began:
"Mademoiselle Henri has left your establishment--been dismissed, Ipresume?"
"Ah, I wished to have a little conversation with you, monsieur," repliedthe directress with the most natural and affable air in the world;"but we cannot talk quietly here; will Monsieur step into the garden aminute?" And she preceded me, stepping out through the glass-door I havebefore mentioned.
"There," said she, when we had reached the centre of the middle alley,and when the foliage of shrubs and trees, now in their summer pride,closing behind and around us, shut out the view of the house, and thusimparted a sense of seclusion even to this little plot of ground in thevery core of a capital.
"There, one feels quiet and free when there are only pear-trees androse-bushes about one; I dare say you, like me, monsieur, are sometimestired of being eternally in the midst of life; of having human facesalways round you, human eyes always upon you, human voices always inyour ear. I am sure I often wish intensely for liberty to spend a wholemonth in the country at some little farm-house, bien gentille, bienpropre, tout entouree de champs et de bois; quelle vie charmante que lavie champetre! N'est-ce pas, monsieur?"
"Cela depend, mademoiselle."
"Que le vent est bon et frais!" continued the directress; and she wasright there, for it was a south wind, soft and sweet. I carried my hatin my hand, and this gentle breeze, passing through my hair, soothed mytemples like balm. Its refreshing effect, however, penetrated no deeperthan the mere surface of the frame; for as I walked by the side ofMdlle. Reuter, my heart was still hot within me, and while I was musingthe fire burned; then spake I with my tongue:--
"I understand Mdlle. Henri is gone from hence, and will not return?"
"Ah, true! I meant to have named the subject to you some days ago, butmy time is so completely taken up, I cannot do half the things I wish:have you never experienced what it is, monsieur, to find the day tooshort by twelve hours for your numerous duties?"
"Not often. Mdlle. Henri's departure was not voluntary, I presume? If ithad been, she would certainly have given me some intimation of it, beingmy pupil."
"Oh, did she not tell you? that was strange; for my part, I neverthought of adverting to the subject; when one has so many things toattend to, one is apt to forget little incidents that are not of primaryimportance."
"You consider Mdlle. Henri's dismission, then, as a very insignificantevent?"
"Dismission? Ah! she was not dismissed; I can say with truth, monsieur,that since I became the head of this establishment no master or teacherhas ever been dismissed from it."
"Yet some have left it, mademoiselle?"
"Many; I have found it necessary to change frequently--a change ofinstructors is often beneficial to the interests of a school; it giveslife and variety to the proceedings; it amuses the pupils, and suggeststo the parents the idea of exertion and progress."
"Yet when you are tired of a professor or maitresse, you scruple todismiss them?"
"No need to have recourse to such extreme measures, I assure you.Allons, monsieur le professeur--asseyons-nous; je vais vous donner unepetite lecon dans votre etat d'instituteur." (I wish I might writeall she said to me in French--it loses sadly by being translated intoEnglish.) We had now reached THE garden-chair; the directress sat down,and signed to me to sit by her, but I only rested my knee on the seat,and stood leaning my head and arm against the embowering branch of ahuge laburnum, whose golden flowers, blent with the dusky green leavesof a lilac-bush, formed a mixed arch of shade and sunshine over theretreat. Mdlle. Reuter sat silent a moment; some novel movements wereevidently working in her mind, and they showed their nature on herastute brow; she was meditating some CHEF D'OEUVRE of policy. Convincedby several months' experience that the affectation of virtues she didnot possess was unavailing to ensnare me--aware that I had read her realnature, and would believe nothing of the character she gave out as beinghers--she had determined, at last, to try a new key, and see if the lockof my heart would yield to that; a little audacity, a word of truth, aglimpse of the real. "Yes, I will try," was her inward resolve; and thenher blue eye glittered upon me--it did not flash--nothing of flame everkindled in its temperate gleam.
"Monsieur fears to sit by me?" she inquired playfully.
"I have no wish to usurp Pelet's place," I answered, for I had got thehabit of speaking to her bluntly--a habit begun in anger, but continuedbecause I saw that, instead of offending, it fascinated her. She castdown her eyes, and drooped her eyelids; she sighed uneasily; she turnedwith an anxious gesture, as if she would give me the idea of a bird thatflutters in its cage, and would fain fly from its jail and jailer, andseek its natural mate and pleasant nest.
"Well--and your lesson?" I demanded briefly.
"Ah!" she exclaimed, recovering herself, "you are so young, so frankand fearless, so talented, so impatient of imbecility, so disdainful ofvulgarity, you need a lesson here it is then: far more is to be donein this world by dexterity than by strength; but, perhaps, you knewthat before, for there is delicacy as well as power in yourcharacter--policy, as well as pride?"
"Go on," said I; and I could hardly help smiling, the flattery was sopiquant, so finely seasoned. She caught the prohibited smile, though Ipassed my hand over my month to conceal it; and again she made room forme to sit beside her. I shook my head, though temptation penetrated tomy senses at the moment, and once more I told her to go on.
"Well, then, if ever you are at the head of a large establishment,dismiss nobody. To speak truth, monsieur (and to you I will speaktruth), I despise people who are always making rows, blustering, sendingoff one to the right, and another to the left, urging and hurryingcircumstances. I'll tell you what I like best to do, monsieur, shall I?"She looked up again; she had compounded her glance well this time--mucharchness, more deference, a spicy dash of coquetry, an unveiledconsciousness of capacity. I nodded; she treated me like the greatMogul; so I became the great Mogul as far as she was concerned.
"I like, monsieur, to take my knitting in my hands, and to sit quietlydown in my chair; circumstances defile past me; I watch their march; solong as they follow the course I wish, I say nothing, and do nothing; Idon't clap my hands, and cry out 'Bravo! How lucky I am!' to attractthe attention and envy of my neighbours--I am merely passive; but whenevents fall out ill--when circumstances become adverse--I watch veryvigilantly; I knit on still, and still I hold my tongue; but every nowand then, monsieur, I just put my toe out--so--and give the rebelliouscircumstance a little secret push, without noise, which sends it the wayI wish, and I am successful after all, and nobody has seen my expedient.So, when teachers or masters become troublesome and inefficient--when,in short, the interests of the school would suffer from their retainingtheir places--I mind my knitting, events progress, circumstances glidepast; I see one which, if pushed ever so little awry, will renderuntenable the post I wish to have vacated--the deed is done--thestumbling-block removed--and no one saw me: I have not made an enemy, Iam rid of an incumbrance."
A moment since, and I thought her alluring; this speech concluded, Ilooked on her with distaste. "Just like you," was my cold answer."And in this way you have ousted Mdlle. Henri? You wanted her office,therefore you rendered it intolerable to her?"
"Not at all, monsieur, I was merely anxious about Mdlle. Henri's health;no, your moral sight is clear and piercing, but there you have failedto discover the truth. I took--I have always taken a real interest inMdlle. Henri's welfare; I did not like her going out in all weathers;I thought it would be more advantageous for her to obtain a permanentsituation besides, I considered her now qualified to do something morethan teach sewing. I reasoned with her; left the decision to herself;she saw the correctness of my views, and adopted them."
"Excellent! and now, mademoiselle, you will have the goodness to give meher address."
"Her address!" and a sombre and stony change came over the mien ofthe directress. "Her address? Ah?--well--I wish I could oblige you,monsieur, but I cannot, and I will tell you why; whenever I myself askedher for her address, she always evaded the inquiry. I thought--I maybe wrong--but I THOUGHT her motive for doing so, was a natural, thoughmistaken reluctance to introduce me to some, probably, very poorabode; her means were narrow, her origin obscure; she lives somewhere,doubtless, in the 'basse ville.'"
"I'll not lose sight of my best pupil yet," said I, "though she wereborn of beggars and lodged in a cellar; for the rest, it is absurd tomake a bugbear of her origin to me--I happen to know that she was aSwiss pastor's daughter, neither more nor less; and, as to her narrowmeans, I care nothing for the poverty of her purse so long as her heartoverflows with affluence."
"Your sentiments are perfectly noble, monsieur," said the directress,affecting to suppress a yawn; her sprightliness was now extinct, hertemporary candour shut up; the little, red-coloured, piratical-lookingpennon of audacity she had allowed to float a minute in the air, wasfurled, and the broad, sober-hued flag of dissimulation again hunglow over the citadel. I did not like her thus, so I cut short theTETE-A-TETE and departed.
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