THE PROFESSOR

by (AKA Charlotte Bronte) Currer Bell

PREFACE. 

This little book was written before either "Jane Eyre" or "Shirley, "and yet no indulgence can be solicited for it on the plea of a firstattempt. A first attempt it certainly was not, as the pen which wrote ithad been previously worn a good deal in a practice of some years. I hadnot indeed published anything before I commenced "The Professor, " butin many a crude effort, destroyed almost as soon as composed, I hadgot over any such taste as I might once have had for ornamented andredundant composition, and come to prefer what was plain and homely. At the same time I had adopted a set of principles on the subject ofincident, &c. , such as would be generally approved in theory, but theresult of which, when carried out into practice, often procures for anauthor more surprise than pleasure. 

I said to myself that my hero should work his way through life as I hadseen real living men work theirs--that he should never get a shillinghe had not earned--that no sudden turns should lift him in a moment towealth and high station; that whatever small competency he might gain, should be won by the sweat of his brow; that, before he could find somuch as an arbour to sit down in, he should master at least half theascent of "the Hill of Difficulty;" that he should not even marry abeautiful girl or a lady of rank. As Adam's son he should share Adam'sdoom, and drain throughout life a mixed and moderate cup of enjoyment. 

In the sequel, however, I find that publishers in general scarcelyapproved of this system, but would have liked something more imaginativeand poetical--something more consonant with a highly wrought fancy, witha taste for pathos, with sentiments more tender, elevated, unworldly. Indeed, until an author has tried to dispose of a manuscript of thiskind, he can never know what stores of romance and sensibility liehidden in breasts he would not have suspected of casketing suchtreasures. Men in business are usually thought to prefer the real; ontrial the idea will be often found fallacious: a passionate preferencefor the wild, wonderful, and thrilling--the strange, startling, andharrowing--agitates divers souls that show a calm and sober surface. 

Such being the case, the reader will comprehend that to have reachedhim in the form of a printed book, this brief narrative must have gonethrough some struggles--which indeed it has. And after all, itsworst struggle and strongest ordeal is yet to come but it takescomfort--subdues fear--leans on the staff of a moderate expectation--andmutters under its breath, while lifting its eye to that of the public, "He that is low need fear no fall. "

CURRER BELL. 

The foregoing preface was written by my wife with a view to thepublication of "The Professor, " shortly after the appearance of"Shirley. " Being dissuaded from her intention, the authoress made someuse of the materials in a subsequent work--"Villette, " As, however, these two stories are in most respects unlike, it has been representedto me that I ought not to withhold "The Professor" from the public. Ihave therefore consented to its publication. 

A. B. NICHOLLS

Haworth Parsonage, September 22nd, 1856. 

T H E P R O F E S S O R

CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY. 

THE other day, in looking over my papers, I found in my desk thefollowing copy of a letter, sent by me a year since to an old schoolacquaintance:--

"DEAR CHARLES, "I think when you and I were at Eton together, we were neither of uswhat could be called popular characters: you were a sarcastic, observant, shrewd, cold-blooded creature; my own portrait I will notattempt to draw, but I cannot recollect that it was a strikinglyattractive one--can you? What animal magnetism drew thee and me togetherI know not; certainly I never experienced anything of the Pylades andOrestes sentiment for you, and I have reason to believe that you, onyour part, were equally free from all romantic regard to me. Still, outof school hours we walked and talked continually together; when thetheme of conversation was our companions or our masters we understoodeach other, and when I recurred to some sentiment of affection, somevague love of an excellent or beautiful object, whether in animate orinanimate nature, your sardonic coldness did not move me. I felt myselfsuperior to that check THEN as I do NOW. 

"It is a long time since I wrote to you, and a still longer time sinceI saw you. Chancing to take up a newspaper of your county the other day, my eye fell upon your name. I began to think of old times; to run overthe events which have transpired since we separated; and I sat downand commenced this letter. What you have been doing I know not; but youshall hear, if you choose to listen, how the world has wagged with me. 

"First, after leaving Eton, I had an interview with my maternal uncles, Lord Tynedale and the Hon. John Seacombe. They asked me if I would enterthe Church, and my uncle the nobleman offered me the living of Seacombe, which is in his gift, if I would; then my other uncle, Mr. Seacombe, hinted that when I became rector of Seacombe-cum-Scaife, I might perhapsbe allowed to take, as mistress of my house and head of my parish, oneof my six cousins, his daughters, all of whom I greatly dislike. 

"I declined both the Church and matrimony. A good clergyman is a goodthing, but I should have made a very bad one. As to the wife--oh howlike a night-mare is the thought of being bound for life to one ofmy cousins! No doubt they are accomplished and pretty; but not anaccomplishment, not a charm of theirs, touches a chord in my bosom. To think of passing the winter evenings by the parlour fire-side ofSeacombe Rectory alone with one of them--for instance, the large andwell-modelled statue, Sarah--no; I should be a bad husband, under suchcircumstances, as well as a bad clergyman. 

"When I had declined my uncles' offers they asked me 'what I intendedto do?' I said I should reflect. They reminded me that I had no fortune, and no expectation of any, and, after a considerable pause, LordTynedale demanded sternly, 'Whether I had thoughts of following myfather's steps and engaging in trade?' Now, I had had no thoughts of thesort. I do not think that my turn of mind qualifies me to make a goodtradesman; my taste, my ambition does not lie in that way; but such wasthe scorn expressed in Lord Tynedale's countenance as he pronouncedthe word TRADE--such the contemptuous sarcasm of his tone--that I wasinstantly decided. My father was but a name to me, yet that name I didnot like to hear mentioned with a sneer to my very face. I answeredthen, with haste and warmth, 'I cannot do better than follow inmy father's steps; yes, I will be a tradesman. ' My uncles did notremonstrate; they and I parted with mutual disgust. In reviewing thistransaction, I find that I was quite right to shake off the burden ofTynedale's patronage, but a fool to offer my shoulders instantly for thereception of another burden--one which might be more intolerable, andwhich certainly was yet untried. 

"I wrote instantly to Edward--you know Edward--my only brother, tenyears my senior, married to a rich mill-owner's daughter, and nowpossessor of the mill and business which was my father's beforehe failed. You are aware that my father-once reckoned a Croesus ofwealth--became bankrupt a short time previous to his death, and that mymother lived in destitution for some six months after him, unhelped byher aristocratical brothers, whom she had mortally offended by her unionwith Crimsworth, the----shire manufacturer. At the end of the six monthsshe brought me into the world, and then herself left it without, Ishould think, much regret, as it contained little hope or comfort forher. 

"My father's relations took charge of Edward, as they did of me, till Iwas nine years old. At that period it chanced that the representation ofan important borough in our county fell vacant; Mr. Seacombe stood forit. My uncle Crimsworth, an astute mercantile man, took the opportunityof writing a fierce letter to the candidate, stating that if he and LordTynedale did not consent to do something towards the support of theirsister's orphan children, he would expose their relentless and malignantconduct towards that sister, and do his best to turn the circumstancesagainst Mr. Seacombe's election. That gentleman and Lord T. Knew wellenough that the Crimsworths were an unscrupulous and determined race;they knew also that they had influence in the borough of X----; and, making a virtue of necessity, they consented to defray the expenses ofmy education. I was sent to Eton, where I remained ten years, duringwhich space of time Edward and I never met. He, when he grew up, enteredinto trade, and pursued his calling with such diligence, ability, andsuccess, that now, in his thirtieth year, he was fast making a fortune. Of this I was apprised by the occasional short letters I received fromhim, some three or four times a year; which said letters never concludedwithout some expression of determined enmity against the house ofSeacombe, and some reproach to me for living, as he said, on the bountyof that house. At first, while still in boyhood, I could not understandwhy, as I had no parents, I should not be indebted to my uncles Tynedaleand Seacombe for my education; but as I grew up, and heard by degrees ofthe persevering hostility, the hatred till death evinced by them againstmy father--of the sufferings of my mother--of all the wrongs, in short, of our house--then did I conceive shame of the dependence in which Ilived, and form a resolution no more to take bread from hands which hadrefused to minister to the necessities of my dying mother. It was bythese feelings I was influenced when I refused the Rectory of Seacombe, and the union with one of my patrician cousins. 

"An irreparable breach thus being effected between my uncles and myself, I wrote to Edward; told him what had occurred, and informed him of myintention to follow his steps and be a tradesman. I asked, moreover, ifhe could give me employment. His answer expressed no approbation of myconduct, but he said I might come down to ----shire, if I liked, and hewould 'see what could be done in the way of furnishing me with work. 'I repressed all--even mental comment on his note--packed my trunk andcarpet-bag, and started for the North directly. 

"After two days' travelling (railroads were not then in existence) Iarrived, one wet October afternoon, in the town of X----. I had alwaysunderstood that Edward lived in this town, but on inquiry I found thatit was only Mr. Crimsworth's mill and warehouse which were situated inthe smoky atmosphere of Bigben Close; his RESIDENCE lay four miles out, in the country. 

"It was late in the evening when I alighted at the gates of thehabitation designated to me as my brother's. As I advanced up theavenue, I could see through the shades of twilight, and the dark gloomymists which deepened those shades, that the house was large, and thegrounds surrounding it sufficiently spacious. I paused a moment on thelawn in front, and leaning my back against a tall tree which rose in thecentre, I gazed with interest on the exterior of Crimsworth Hall. 

"Edward is rich, " thought I to myself. 'I believed him to be doingwell--but I did not know he was master of a mansion like this. ' Cuttingshort all marvelling; speculation, conjecture, &c. , I advanced to thefront door and rang. A man-servant opened it--I announced myself--herelieved me of my wet cloak and carpet-bag, and ushered me into aroom furnished as a library, where there was a bright fire and candlesburning on the table; he informed me that his master was not yetreturned from X----market, but that he would certainly be at home in thecourse of half an hour. 

"Being left to myself, I took the stuffed easy chair, covered with redmorocco, which stood by the fireside, and while my eyes watched theflames dart from the glowing coals, and the cinders fall at intervals onthe hearth, my mind busied itself in conjectures concerning the meetingabout to take place. Amidst much that was doubtful in the subject ofthese conjectures, there was one thing tolerably certain--I was in nodanger of encountering severe disappointment; from this, the moderationof my expectations guaranteed me. I anticipated no overflowings offraternal tenderness; Edward's letters had always been such as toprevent the engendering or harbouring of delusions of this sort. Still, as I sat awaiting his arrival, I felt eager--very eager--I cannot tellyou why; my hand, so utterly a stranger to the grasp of a kindred hand, clenched itself to repress the tremor with which impatience would fainhave shaken it. 

"I thought of my uncles; and as I was engaged in wondering whetherEdward's indifference would equal the cold disdain I had alwaysexperienced from them, I heard the avenue gates open: wheels approachedthe house; Mr. Crimsworth was arrived; and after the lapse of someminutes, and a brief dialogue between himself and his servant in thehall, his tread drew near the library door--that tread alone announcedthe master of the house. 

"I still retained some confused recollection of Edward as he was tenyears ago--a tall, wiry, raw youth; NOW, as I rose from my seat andturned towards the library door, I saw a fine-looking and powerful man, light-complexioned, well-made, and of athletic proportions; the firstglance made me aware of an air of promptitude and sharpness, shownas well in his movements as in his port, his eye, and the generalexpression of his face. He greeted me with brevity, and, in the momentof shaking hands, scanned me from head to foot; he took his seat in themorocco covered arm-chair, and motioned me to another sent. 

"'I expected you would have called at the counting-house in the Close, 'said he; and his voice, I noticed, had an abrupt accent, probablyhabitual to him; he spoke also with a guttural northern tone, whichsounded harsh in my ears, accustomed to the silvery utterance of theSouth. 

"'The landlord of the inn, where the coach stopped, directed me here, 'said I. 'I doubted at first the accuracy of his information, not beingaware that you had such a residence as this. '

"'Oh, it is all right!' he replied, 'only I was kept half an hour behindtime, waiting for you--that is all. I thought you must be coming by theeight o'clock coach. '

"I expressed regret that he had had to wait; he made no answer, butstirred the fire, as if to cover a movement of impatience; then hescanned me again. 

"I felt an inward satisfaction that I had not, in the first moment ofmeeting, betrayed any warmth, any enthusiasm; that I had saluted thisman with a quiet and steady phlegm. 

"'Have you quite broken with Tynedale and Seacombe?' he asked hastily. 

"'I do not think I shall have any further communication with them; myrefusal of their proposals will, I fancy, operate as a barrier againstall future intercourse. '

"'Why, ' said he, 'I may as well remind you at the very outset of ourconnection, that "no man can serve two masters. " Acquaintance with LordTynedale will be incompatible with assistance from me. ' There was a kindof gratuitous menace in his eye as he looked at me in finishing thisobservation. 

"Feeling no disposition to reply to him, I contented myself with aninward speculation on the differences which exist in the constitutionof men's minds. I do not know what inference Mr. Crimsworth drew frommy silence--whether he considered it a symptom of contumacity or anevidence of my being cowed by his peremptory manner. After a long andhard stare at me, he rose sharply from his seat. 

"'To-morrow, ' said he, 'I shall call your attention to some otherpoints; but now it is supper time, and Mrs. Crimsworth is probablywaiting; will you come?'

"He strode from the room, and I followed. In crossing the hall, Iwondered what Mrs. Crimsworth might be. 'Is she, ' thought I, 'as aliento what I like as Tynedale, Seacombe, the Misses Seacombe--as theaffectionate relative now striding before me? or is she better thanthese? Shall I, in conversing with her, feel free to show something ofmy real nature; or--' Further conjectures were arrested by my entranceinto the dining-room. 

"A lamp, burning under a shade of ground-glass, showed a handsomeapartment, wainscoted with oak; supper was laid on the table; by thefire-place, standing as if waiting our entrance, appeared a lady;she was young, tall, and well shaped; her dress was handsome andfashionable: so much my first glance sufficed to ascertain. A gaysalutation passed between her and Mr. Crimsworth; she chid him, halfplayfully, half poutingly, for being late; her voice (I always takevoices into the account in judging of character) was lively--itindicated, I thought, good animal spirits. Mr. Crimsworth soon checkedher animated scolding with a kiss--a kiss that still told of thebridegroom (they had not yet been married a year); she took her seatat the supper-table in first-rate spirits. Perceiving me, she beggedmy pardon for not noticing me before, and then shook hands with me, asladies do when a flow of good-humour disposes them to be cheerful toall, even the most indifferent of their acquaintance. It was now furtherobvious to me that she had a good complexion, and features sufficientlymarked but agreeable; her hair was red--quite red. She and Edwardtalked much, always in a vein of playful contention; she was vexed, orpretended to be vexed, that he had that day driven a vicious horse inthe gig, and he made light of her fears. Sometimes she appealed to me. 

"'Now, Mr. William, isn't it absurd in Edward to talk so? He says hewill drive Jack, and no other horse, and the brute has thrown him twicealready. 

"She spoke with a kind of lisp, not disagreeable, but childish. Isoon saw also that there was more than girlish--a somewhat infantineexpression in her by no means small features; this lisp and expressionwere, I have no doubt, a charm in Edward's eyes, and would be soto those: of most men, but they were not to mine. I sought her eye, desirous to read there the intelligence which I could not discern in herface or hear in her conversation; it was merry, rather small; by turns Isaw vivacity, vanity, coquetry, look out through its irid, but I watchedin vain for a glimpse of soul. I am no Oriental; white necks, carminelips and cheeks, clusters of bright curls, do not suffice for me withoutthat Promethean spark which will live after the roses and lilies arefaded, the burnished hair grown grey. In sunshine, in prosperity, theflowers are very well; but how many wet days are there in life--Novemberseasons of disaster, when a man's hearth and home would be cold indeed, without the clear, cheering gleam of intellect. 

"Having perused the fair page of Mrs. Crimsworth's face, a deep, involuntary sigh announced my disappointment; she took it as a homage toher beauty, and Edward, who was evidently proud of his rich and handsomeyoung wife, threw on me a glance--half ridicule, half ire. 

"I turned from them both, and gazing wearily round the room, I saw twopictures set in the oak panelling--one on each side the mantel-piece. Ceasing to take part in the bantering conversation that flowed onbetween Mr. And Mrs. Crimsworth, I bent my thoughts to the examinationof these pictures. They were portraits--a lady and a gentleman, bothcostumed in the fashion of twenty years ago. The gentleman was in theshade. I could not see him well. The lady had the benefit of a full beamfrom the softly shaded lamp. I presently recognised her; I had seen thispicture before in childhood; it was my mother; that and the companionpicture being the only heir-looms saved out of the sale of my father'sproperty. 

"The face, I remembered, had pleased me as a boy, but then I did notunderstand it; now I knew how rare that class of face is in the world, and I appreciated keenly its thoughtful, yet gentle expression. Theserious grey eye possessed for me a strong charm, as did certain linesin the features indicative of most true and tender feeling. I was sorryit was only a picture. 

"I soon left Mr. And Mrs. Crimsworth to themselves; a servantconducted me to my bed-room; in closing my chamber-door, I shut out allintruders--you, Charles, as well as the rest. 

"Good-bye for the present, "WILLIAM CRIMSWORTH. "

To this letter I never got an answer; before my old friend received it, he had accepted a Government appointment in one of the colonies, and wasalready on his way to the scene of his official labours. What has becomeof him since, I know not. 

The leisure time I have at command, and which I intended to employfor his private benefit, I shall now dedicate to that of the public atlarge. My narrative is not exciting, and above all, not marvellous;but it may interest some individuals, who, having toiled in the samevocation as myself, will find in my experience frequent reflectionsof their own. The above letter will serve as an introduction. I nowproceed. 

CHAPTER II. 

A FINE October morning succeeded to the foggy evening that had witnessedmy first introduction to Crimsworth Hall. I was early up and walking inthe large park-like meadow surrounding the house. The autumn sun, risingover the ----shire hills, disclosed a pleasant country; woods brown andmellow varied the fields from which the harvest had been lately carried;a river, gliding between the woods, caught on its surface the somewhatcold gleam of the October sun and sky; at frequent intervals along thebanks of the river, tall, cylindrical chimneys, almost like slenderround towers, indicated the factories which the trees half concealed;here and there mansions, similar to Crimsworth Hall, occupied agreeablesites on the hill-side; the country wore, on the whole, a cheerful, active, fertile look. Steam, trade, machinery had long banished fromit all romance and seclusion. At a distance of five miles, a valley, opening between the low hills, held in its cups the great town of X----. A dense, permanent vapour brooded over this locality--there lay Edward's"Concern. "

I forced my eye to scrutinize this prospect, I forced my mind to dwellon it for a time, and when I found that it communicated no pleasurableemotion to my heart--that it stirred in me none of the hopes a man oughtto feel, when he sees laid before him the scene of his life's career--Isaid to myself, "William, you are a rebel against circumstances; you area fool, and know not what you want; you have chosen trade and you shallbe a tradesman. Look!" I continued mentally--"Look at the sooty smoke inthat hollow, and know that there is your post! There you cannot dream, you cannot speculate and theorize--there you shall out and work!"

Thus self-schooled, I returned to the house. My brother was in thebreakfast-room. I met him collectedly--I could not meet him cheerfully;he was standing on the rug, his back to the fire--how much did I read inthe expression of his eye as my glance encountered his, when I advancedto bid him good morning; how much that was contradictory to my nature!He said "Good morning" abruptly and nodded, and then he snatched, ratherthan took, a newspaper from the table, and began to read it with the airof a master who seizes a pretext to escape the bore of conversing withan underling. It was well I had taken a resolution to endure for a time, or his manner would have gone far to render insupportable the disgustI had just been endeavouring to subdue. I looked at him: I measured hisrobust frame and powerful proportions; I saw my own reflection in themirror over the mantel-piece; I amused myself with comparing the twopictures. In face I resembled him, though I was not so handsome; myfeatures were less regular; I had a darker eye, and a broader brow--inform I was greatly inferior--thinner, slighter, not so tall. As ananimal, Edward excelled me far; should he prove as paramount in mindas in person I must be a slave--for I must expect from him no lion-likegenerosity to one weaker than himself; his cold, avaricious eye, hisstern, forbidding manner told me he would not spare. Had I then force ofmind to cope with him? I did not know; I had never been tried. 

Mrs. Crimsworth's entrance diverted my thoughts for a moment. She lookedwell, dressed in white, her face and her attire shining in morningand bridal freshness. I addressed her with the degree of ease her lastnight's careless gaiety seemed to warrant, but she replied with coolnessand restraint: her husband had tutored her; she was not to be toofamiliar with his clerk. 

As soon as breakfast was over Mr. Crimsworth intimated to me that theywere bringing the gig round to the door, and that in five minutes heshould expect me to be ready to go down with him to X----. I did notkeep him waiting; we were soon dashing at a rapid rate along theroad. The horse he drove was the same vicious animal about which Mrs. Crimsworth had expressed her fears the night before. Once or twiceJack seemed disposed to turn restive, but a vigorous and determinedapplication of the whip from the ruthless hand of his master sooncompelled him to submission, and Edward's dilated nostril expressed histriumph in the result of the contest; he scarcely spoke to me during thewhole of the brief drive, only opening his lips at intervals to damn hishorse. 

X---- was all stir and bustle when we entered it; we left the cleanstreets where there were dwelling-houses and shops, churches, and publicbuildings; we left all these, and turned down to a region of mills andwarehouses; thence we passed through two massive gates into a greatpaved yard, and we were in Bigben Close, and the mill was before us, vomiting soot from its long chimney, and quivering through its thickbrick walls with the commotion of its iron bowels. Workpeople werepassing to and fro; a waggon was being laden with pieces. Mr. Crimsworthlooked from side to side, and seemed at one glance to comprehend allthat was going on; he alighted, and leaving his horse and gig to thecare of a man who hastened to take the reins from his hand, he bid mefollow him to the counting-house. We entered it; a very different placefrom the parlours of Crimsworth Hall--a place for business, with a bare, planked floor, a safe, two high desks and stools, and some chairs. Aperson was seated at one of the desks, who took off his square cap whenMr. Crimsworth entered, and in an instant was again absorbed in hisoccupation of writing or calculating--I know not which. 

Mr. Crimsworth, having removed his mackintosh, sat down by the fire. Iremained standing near the hearth; he said presently--

"Steighton, you may leave the room; I have some business to transactwith this gentleman. Come back when you hear the bell. "

The individual at the desk rose and departed, closing the door as hewent out. Mr. Crimsworth stirred the fire, then folded his arms, and sata moment thinking, his lips compressed, his brow knit. I had nothing todo but to watch him--how well his features were cut! what a handsome manhe was! Whence, then, came that air of contraction--that narrow and hardaspect on his forehead, in all his lineaments?

Turning to me he began abruptly:

"You are come down to ----shire to learn to be a tradesman?"

"Yes, I am. "

"Have you made up your mind on the point? Let me know that at once. "

"Yes. "

"Well, I am not bound to help you, but I have a place here vacant, ifyou are qualified for it. I will take you on trial. What can you do? Doyou know anything besides that useless trash of college learning--Greek, Latin, and so forth?"

"I have studied mathematics. "

"Stuff! I dare say you have. "

"I can read and write French and German. "

"Hum!" He reflected a moment, then opening a drawer in a desk near himtook out a letter, and gave it to me. 

"Can you read that?" he asked. 

It was a German commercial letter; I translated it; I could not tellwhether he was gratified or not--his countenance remained fixed. 

"It is well;" he-said, after a pause, "that you are acquainted withsomething useful, something that may enable you to earn your board andlodging: since you know French and German, I will take you as secondclerk to manage the foreign correspondence of the house. I shall giveyou a good salary--90l. A year--and now, " he continued, raising hisvoice, "hear once for all what I have to say about our relationship, andall that sort of humbug! I must have no nonsense on that point; itwould never suit me. I shall excuse you nothing on the plea of being mybrother; if I find you stupid, negligent, dissipated, idle, or possessedof any faults detrimental to the interests of the house, I shall dismissyou as I would any other clerk. Ninety pounds a year are good wages, and I expect to have the full value of my money out of you;remember, too, that things are on a practical footing in myestablishment--business-like habits, feelings, and ideas, suit me best. Do you understand?"

"Partly, " I replied. "I suppose you mean that I am to do my work for mywages; not to expect favour from you, and not to depend on you for anyhelp but what I earn; that suits me exactly, and on these terms I willconsent to be your clerk. "

I turned on my heel, and walked to the window; this time I did notconsult his face to learn his opinion: what it was I do not know, nordid I then care. After a silence of some minutes he recommenced:--

"You perhaps expect to be accommodated with apartments at CrimsworthHall, and to go and come with me in the gig. I wish you, however, to beaware that such an arrangement would be quite inconvenient to me. Ilike to have the seat in my gig at liberty for any gentleman whom forbusiness reasons I may wish to take down to the hall for a night or so. You will seek out lodgings in X----. "

Quitting the window, I walked back to the hearth. 

"Of course I shall seek out lodgings in X----, " I answered. "It wouldnot suit me either to lodge at Crimsworth Hall. "

My tone was quiet. I always speak quietly. Yet Mr. Crimsworth's blue eyebecame incensed; he took his revenge rather oddly. Turning to me he saidbluntly--

"You are poor enough, I suppose; how do you expect to live till yourquarter's salary becomes due?"

"I shall get on, " said I. 

"How do you expect to live?" he repeated in a louder voice. 

"As I can, Mr. Crimsworth. "

"Get into debt at your peril! that's all, " he answered. "For aught Iknow you may have extravagant aristocratic habits: if you have, dropthem; I tolerate nothing of the sort here, and I will never give you ashilling extra, whatever liabilities you may incur--mind that. "

"Yes, Mr. Crimsworth, you will find I have a good memory. "

I said no more. I did not think the time was come for much parley. Ihad an instinctive feeling that it would be folly to let one's tempereffervesce often with such a man as Edward. I said to myself, "I willplace my cup under this continual dropping; it shall stand there stilland steady; when full, it will run over of itself--meantime patience. Two things are certain. I am capable of performing the work Mr. Crimsworth has set me; I can earn my wages conscientiously, and thosewages are sufficient to enable me to live. As to the fact of my brotherassuming towards me the bearing of a proud, harsh master, the fault ishis, not mine; and shall his injustice, his bad feeling, turn me at onceaside from the path I have chosen? No; at least, ere I deviate, I willadvance far enough to see whither my career tends. As yet I am onlypressing in at the entrance--a strait gate enough; it ought to have agood terminus. " While I thus reasoned, Mr. Crimsworth rang a bell; hisfirst clerk, the individual dismissed previously to our conference, re-entered. 

"Mr. Steighton, " said he, "show Mr. William the letters from Voss, Brothers, and give him English copies of the answers; he will translatethem. "

Mr. Steighton, a man of about thirty-five, with a face at once sly andheavy, hastened to execute this order; he laid the letters on thedesk, and I was soon seated at it, and engaged in rendering the Englishanswers into German. A sentiment of keen pleasure accompanied this firsteffort to earn my own living--a sentiment neither poisoned nor weakenedby the presence of the taskmaster, who stood and watched me for sometime as I wrote. I thought he was trying to read my character, but Ifelt as secure against his scrutiny as if I had had on a casque withthe visor down-or rather I showed him my countenance with the confidencethat one would show an unlearned man a letter written in Greek; he mightsee lines, and trace characters, but he could make nothing of them; mynature was not his nature, and its signs were to him like the words ofan unknown tongue. Ere long he turned away abruptly, as if baffled, andleft the counting-house; he returned to it but twice in the course ofthat day; each time he mixed and swallowed a glass of brandy-and-water, the materials for making which he extracted from a cupboard on one sideof the fireplace; having glanced at my translations--he could read bothFrench and German--he went out again in silence. 

CHAPTER III. 

I SERVED Edward as his second clerk faithfully, punctually, diligently. What was given me to do I had the power and the determination to dowell. Mr. Crimsworth watched sharply for defects, but found none; he setTimothy Steighton, his favourite and head man, to watch also. Tim wasbaffled; I was as exact as himself, and quicker. Mr. Crimsworth madeinquiries as to how I lived, whether I got into debt--no, my accountswith my landlady were always straight. I had hired small lodgings, whichI contrived to pay for out of a slender fund--the accumulated savings ofmy Eton pocket-money; for as it had ever been abhorrent to my nature toask pecuniary assistance, I had early acquired habits of self-denyingeconomy; husbanding my monthly allowance with anxious care, in order toobviate the danger of being forced, in some moment of future exigency, to beg additional aid. I remember many called me miser at the time, and I used to couple the reproach with this consolation--better to bemisunderstood now than repulsed hereafter. At this day I had my reward;I had had it before, when on parting with my irritated uncles one ofthem threw down on the table before me a 5l. Note, which I was able toleave there, saying that my travelling expenses were already providedfor. Mr. Crimsworth employed Tim to find out whether my landlady hadany complaint to make on the score of my morals; she answered that shebelieved I was a very religious man, and asked Tim, in her turn, if hethought I had any intention of going into the Church some day; for, shesaid, she had had young curates to lodge in her house who were nothingequal to me for steadiness and quietness. Tim was "a religious man"himself; indeed, he was "a joined Methodist, " which did not (be itunderstood) prevent him from being at the same time an engrained rascal, and he came away much posed at hearing this account of my piety. Havingimparted it to Mr. Crimsworth, that gentleman, who himself frequentedno place of worship, and owned no God but Mammon, turned the informationinto a weapon of attack against the equability of my temper. Hecommenced a series of covert sneers, of which I did not at firstperceive the drift, till my landlady happened to relate the conversationshe had had with Mr. Steighton; this enlightened me; afterwards I cameto the counting-house prepared, and managed to receive the millowner'sblasphemous sarcasms, when next levelled at me, on a buckler ofimpenetrable indifference. Ere long he tired of wasting his ammunitionon a statue, but he did not throw away the shafts--he only kept themquiet in his quiver. 

Once during my clerkship I had an invitation to Crimsworth Hall; itwas on the occasion of a large party given in honour of the master'sbirthday; he had always been accustomed to invite his clerks on similaranniversaries, and could not well pass me over; I was, however, keptstrictly in the background. Mrs. Crimsworth, elegantly dressed in satinand lace, blooming in youth and health, vouchsafed me no more noticethan was expressed by a distant move; Crimsworth, of course, neverspoke to me; I was introduced to none of the band of young ladies, who, enveloped in silvery clouds of white gauze and muslin, sat in arrayagainst me on the opposite side of a long and large room; in fact, I wasfairly isolated, and could but contemplate the shining ones from affar, and when weary of such a dazzling scene, turn for a change to theconsideration of the carpet pattern. Mr. Crimsworth, standing on therug, his elbow supported by the marble mantelpiece, and about hima group of very pretty girls, with whom he conversed gaily--Mr. Crimsworth, thus placed, glanced at me; I looked weary, solitary, keptdown like some desolate tutor or governess; he was satisfied. 

Dancing began; I should have liked well enough to be introduced to somepleasing and intelligent girl, and to have freedom and opportunityto show that I could both feel and communicate the pleasure of socialintercourse--that I was not, in short, a block, or a piece of furniture, but an acting, thinking, sentient man. Many smiling faces and gracefulfigures glided past me, but the smiles were lavished on other eyes, thefigures sustained by other hands than mine. I turned away tantalized, left the dancers, and wandered into the oak-panelled dining-room. Nofibre of sympathy united me to any living thing in this house; I lookedfor and found my mother's picture. I took a wax taper from a stand, and held it up. I gazed long, earnestly; my heart grew to the image. My mother, I perceived, had bequeathed to me much of her features andcountenance--her forehead, her eyes, her complexion. No regular beautypleases egotistical human beings so much as a softened and refinedlikeness of themselves; for this reason, fathers regard with complacencythe lineaments of their daughters' faces, where frequently their ownsimilitude is found flatteringly associated with softness of hue anddelicacy of outline. I was just wondering how that picture, to me sointeresting, would strike an impartial spectator, when a voice closebehind me pronounced the words--

"Humph! there's some sense in that face. "

I turned; at my elbow stood a tall man, young, though probably five orsix years older than I--in other respects of an appearance the oppositeto common place; though just now, as I am not disposed to paint hisportrait in detail, the reader must be content with the silhouette Ihave just thrown off; it was all I myself saw of him for the moment: Idid not investigate the colour of his eyebrows, nor of his eyes either;I saw his stature, and the outline of his shape; I saw, too, hisfastidious-looking RETROUSSE nose; these observations, few in number, and general in character (the last excepted), sufficed, for they enabledme to recognize him. 

"Good evening, Mr. Hunsden, " muttered I with a bow, and then, like ashy noodle as I was, I began moving away--and why? Simply because Mr. Hunsden was a manufacturer and a millowner, and I was only a clerk, andmy instinct propelled me from my superior. I had frequently seen Hunsdenin Bigben Close, where he came almost weekly to transact business withMr. Crimsworth, but I had never spoken to him, nor he to me, and I owedhim a sort of involuntary grudge, because he had more than once been thetacit witness of insults offered by Edward to me. I had the convictionthat he could only regard me as a poor-spirited slave, wherefore I nowwent about to shun his presence and eschew his conversation. 

"Where are you going?" asked he, as I edged off sideways. I had alreadynoticed that Mr. Hunsden indulged in abrupt forms of speech, and Iperversely said to myself--

"He thinks he may speak as he likes to a poor clerk; but my mood is not, perhaps, so supple as he deems it, and his rough freedom pleases me notat all. "

I made some slight reply, rather indifferent than courteous, andcontinued to move away. He coolly planted himself in my path. 

"Stay here awhile, " said he: "it is so hot in the dancing-room; besides, you don't dance; you have not had a partner to-night. "

He was right, and as he spoke neither his look, tone, nor mannerdispleased me; my AMOUR-PROPRE was propitiated; he had not addressedme out of condescension, but because, having repaired to the cooldining-room for refreshment, he now wanted some one to talk to, by wayof temporary amusement. I hate to be condescended to, but I like wellenough to oblige; I stayed. 

"That is a good picture, " he continued, recurring to the portrait. 

"Do you consider the face pretty?" I asked. 

"Pretty! no--how can it be pretty, with sunk eyes and hollow cheeks?but it is peculiar; it seems to think. You could have a talk with thatwoman, if she were alive, on other subjects than dress, visiting, andcompliments. "

I agreed with him, but did not say so. He went on. 

"Not that I admire a head of that sort; it wants character and force;there's too much of the sen-si-tive (so he articulated it, curlinghis lip at the same time) in that mouth; besides, there is Aristocratwritten on the brow and defined in the figure; I hate your aristocrats. "

"You think, then, Mr. Hunsden, that patrician descent may be read in adistinctive cast of form and features?"

"Patrician descent be hanged! Who doubts that your lordlings may havetheir 'distinctive cast of form and features' as much as we----shiretradesmen have ours? But which is the best? Not theirs assuredly. Asto their women, it is a little different: they cultivate beauty fromchildhood upwards, and may by care and training attain to a certaindegree of excellence in that point, just like the oriental odalisques. Yet even this superiority is doubtful. Compare the figure in that framewith Mrs. Edward Crimsworth--which is the finer animal?"

I replied quietly: "Compare yourself and Mr. Edward Crimsworth, MrHunsden. "

"Oh, Crimsworth is better filled up than I am, I know besides he has astraight nose, arched eyebrows, and all that; but these advantages--ifthey are advantages--he did not inherit from his mother, the patrician, but from his father, old Crimsworth, who, MY father says, was asveritable a ----shire blue-dyer as ever put indigo in a vat yet withalthe handsomest man in the three Ridings. It is you, William, who arethe aristocrat of your family, and you are not as fine a fellow as yourplebeian brother by long chalk. "

There was something in Mr. Hunsden's point-blank mode of speech whichrather pleased me than otherwise because it set me at my ease. Icontinued the conversation with a degree of interest. 

"How do you happen to know that I am Mr. Crimsworth's brother? I thoughtyou and everybody else looked upon me only in the light of a poorclerk. "

"Well, and so we do; and what are you but a poor clerk? You doCrimsworth's work, and he gives you wages--shabby wages they are, too. "

I was silent. Hunsden's language now bordered on the impertinent, stillhis manner did not offend me in the least--it only piqued my curiosity;I wanted him to go on, which he did in a little while. 

"This world is an absurd one, " said he. 

"Why so, Mr. Hunsden?"

"I wonder you should ask: you are yourself a strong proof of theabsurdity I allude to. "

I was determined he should explain himself of his own accord, without mypressing him so to do--so I resumed my silence. 

"Is it your intention to become a tradesman?" he inquired presently. 

"It was my serious intention three months ago. "

"Humph! the more fool you--you look like a tradesman! What a practicalbusiness-like face you have!"

"My face is as the Lord made it, Mr. Hunsden. "

"The Lord never made either your face or head for X---- What good canyour bumps of ideality, comparison, self-esteem, conscientiousness, do you here? But if you like Bigben Close, stay there; it's your ownaffair, not mine. "

"Perhaps I have no choice. "

"Well, I care nought about it--it will make little difference to me whatyou do or where you go; but I'm cool now--I want to dance again; andI see such a fine girl sitting in the corner of the sofa there byher mamma; see if I don't get her for a partner in a jiffy! There'sWaddy--Sam Waddy making up to her; won't I cut him out?"

And Mr. Hunsden strode away. I watched him through the openfolding-doors; he outstripped Waddy, applied for the hand of thefine girl, and led her off triumphant. She was a tall, well-made, full-formed, dashingly-dressed young woman, much in the style of Mrs. E. Crimsworth; Hunsden whirled her through the waltz with spirit; he keptat her side during the remainder of the evening, and I read in heranimated and gratified countenance that he succeeded in making himselfperfectly agreeable. The mamma too (a stout person in a turban--Mrs. Lupton by name) looked well pleased; prophetic visions probablyflattered her inward eye. The Hunsdens were of an old stem; and scornfulas Yorke (such was my late interlocutor's name) professed to be ofthe advantages of birth, in his secret heart he well knew and fullyappreciated the distinction his ancient, if not high lineage conferredon him in a mushroom-place like X----, concerning whose inhabitantsit was proverbially said, that not one in a thousand knew his owngrandfather. Moreover the Hunsdens, once rich, were still independent;and report affirmed that Yorke bade fair, by his success in business, to restore to pristine prosperity the partially decayed fortunes of hishouse. These circumstances considered, Mrs. Lupton's broad face mightwell wear a smile of complacency as she contemplated the heir of HunsdenWood occupied in paying assiduous court to her darling Sarah Martha. I, however, whose observations being less anxious, were likely to be moreaccurate, soon saw that the grounds for maternal self-congratulationwere slight indeed; the gentleman appeared to me much more desirous ofmaking, than susceptible of receiving an impression. I know not what itwas in Mr. Hunsden that, as I watched him (I had nothing better to do), suggested to me, every now and then, the idea of a foreigner. In formand features he might be pronounced English, though even there onecaught a dash of something Gallic; but he had no English shyness: he hadlearnt somewhere, somehow, the art of setting himself quite at his ease, and of allowing no insular timidity to intervene as a barrier betweenhim and his convenience or pleasure. Refinement he did not affect, yetvulgar he could not be called; he was not odd--no quiz--yet he resembledno one else I had ever seen before; his general bearing intimatedcomplete, sovereign satisfaction with himself; yet, at times, anindescribable shade passed like an eclipse over his countenance, andseemed to me like the sign of a sudden and strong inward doubt ofhimself, his words and actions-an energetic discontent at his life orhis social position, his future prospects or his mental attainments--Iknow not which; perhaps after all it might only be a bilious caprice. 

CHAPTER IV. 

No man likes to acknowledge that he has made a mistake in the choice ofhis profession, and every man, worthy of the name, will row long againstwind and tide before he allows himself to cry out, "I am baffled!" andsubmits to be floated passively back to land. From the first week of myresidence in X---- I felt my occupation irksome. The thing itself--thework of copying and translating business-letters--was a dry and tedioustask enough, but had that been all, I should long have borne with thenuisance; I am not of an impatient nature, and influenced by the doubledesire of getting my living and justifying to myself and others theresolution I had taken to become a tradesman, I should have enduredin silence the rust and cramp of my best faculties; I should not havewhispered, even inwardly, that I longed for liberty; I should have pentin every sigh by which my heart might have ventured to intimate itsdistress under the closeness, smoke, monotony and joyless tumult ofBigben Close, and its panting desire for freer and fresher scenes; Ishould have set up the image of Duty, the fetish of Perseverance, in mysmall bedroom at Mrs. King's lodgings, and they two should have beenmy household gods, from which my darling, my cherished-in-secret, Imagination, the tender and the mighty, should never, either by softnessor strength, have severed me. But this was not all; the antipathy whichhad sprung up between myself and my employer striking deeper root andspreading denser shade daily, excluded me from every glimpse of thesunshine of life; and I began to feel like a plant growing in humiddarkness out of the slimy walls of a well. 

Antipathy is the only word which can express the feeling EdwardCrimsworth had for me--a feeling, in a great measure, involuntary, andwhich was liable to be excited by every, the most trifling movement, look, or word of mine. My southern accent annoyed him; the degreeof education evinced in my language irritated him; my punctuality, industry, and accuracy, fixed his dislike, and gave it the high flavourand poignant relish of envy; he feared that I too should one day make asuccessful tradesman. Had I been in anything inferior to him, he wouldnot have hated me so thoroughly, but I knew all that he knew, and, whatwas worse, he suspected that I kept the padlock of silence on mentalwealth in which he was no sharer. If he could have once placed me in aridiculous or mortifying position, he would have forgiven me much, but Iwas guarded by three faculties--Caution, Tact, Observation; andprowling and prying as was Edward's malignity, it could never bafflethe lynx-eyes of these, my natural sentinels. Day by day did his malicewatch my tact, hoping it would sleep, and prepared to steal snake-likeon its slumber; but tact, if it be genuine, never sleeps. 

I had received my first quarter's wages, and was returning to mylodgings, possessed heart and soul with the pleasant feeling thatthe master who had paid me grudged every penny of that hard-earnedpittance--(I had long ceased to regard Mr. Crimsworth as my brother--hewas a hard, grinding master; he wished to be an inexorable tyrant: thatwas all). Thoughts, not varied but strong, occupied my mind; two voicesspoke within me; again and again they uttered the same monotonousphrases. One said: "William, your life is intolerable. " The other: "Whatcan you do to alter it?" I walked fast, for it was a cold, frosty nightin January; as I approached my lodgings, I turned from a general view ofmy affairs to the particular speculation as to whether my fire would beout; looking towards the window of my sitting-room, I saw no cheeringred gleam. 

"That slut of a servant has neglected it as usual, " said I, "and I shallsee nothing but pale ashes if I go in; it is a fine starlight night--Iwill walk a little farther. "

It WAS a fine night, and the streets were dry and even clean for X----;there was a crescent curve of moonlight to be seen by the parish churchtower, and hundreds of stars shone keenly bright in all quarters of thesky. 

Unconsciously I steered my course towards the country; I had got intoGrove-street, and began to feel the pleasure of seeing dim trees at theextremity, round a suburban house, when a person leaning over the irongate of one of the small gardens which front the neat dwelling-houses inthis street, addressed me as I was hurrying with quick stride past. 

"What the deuce is the hurry? Just so must Lot have left Sodom, when heexpected fire to pour down upon it, out of burning brass clouds. "

I stopped short, and looked towards the speaker. I smelt the fragrance, and saw the red spark of a cigar; the dusk outline of a man, too, benttowards me over the wicket. 

"You see I am meditating in the field at eventide, " continued thisshade. "God knows it's cool work! especially as instead of Rebecca ona camel's hump, with bracelets on her arms and a ring in her nose, Fatesends me only a counting-house clerk, in a grey tweed wrapper. " Thevoice was familiar to me--its second utterance enabled me to seize thespeaker's identity. 

"Mr. Hunsden! good evening. "

"Good evening, indeed! yes, but you would have passed me withoutrecognition if I had not been so civil as to speak first. "

"I did not know you. "

"A famous excuse! You ought to have known me; I knew you, though youwere going ahead like a steam-engine. Are the police after you?"

"It wouldn't be worth their while; I'm not of consequence enough toattract them. 

"Alas, poor shepherd! Alack and well-a-day! What a theme for regret, andhow down in the mouth you must be, judging from the sound of your voice!But since you're not running from the police, from whom are you running?the devil?"

"On the contrary, I am going post to him. "

"That is well--you're just in luck: this is Tuesday evening; there arescores of market gigs and carts returning to Dinneford to-night; and he, or some of his, have a seat in all regularly; so, if you'll step inand sit half-an-hour in my bachelor's parlour, you may catch him as hepasses without much trouble. I think though you'd better let him aloneto-night, he'll have so many customers to serve; Tuesday is his busy dayin X---- and Dinneford; come in at all events. "

He swung the wicket open as he spoke. 

"Do you really wish me to go in?" I asked. 

"As you please--I'm alone; your company for an hour or two would beagreeable to me; but, if you don't choose to favour me so far, I'll notpress the point. I hate to bore any one. "

It suited me to accept the invitation as it suited Hunsden to give it. I passed through the gate, and followed him to the front door, which heopened; thence we traversed a passage, and entered his parlour; the doorbeing shut, he pointed me to an arm-chair by the hearth; I sat down, andglanced round me. 

It was a comfortable room, at once snug and handsome; the bright gratewas filled with a genuine ----shire fire, red, clear, and generous, nopenurious South-of-England embers heaped in the corner of a grate. Onthe table a shaded lamp diffused around a soft, pleasant, and equallight; the furniture was almost luxurious for a young bachelor, comprising a couch and two very easy chairs; bookshelves filled therecesses on each side of the mantelpiece; they were well-furnished, andarranged with perfect order. The neatness of the room suited my taste;I hate irregular and slovenly habits. From what I saw I concluded thatHunsden's ideas on that point corresponded with my own. While he removedfrom the centre-table to the side-board a few pamphlets and periodicals, I ran my eye along the shelves of the book-case nearest me. French andGerman works predominated, the old French dramatists, sundry modernauthors, Thiers, Villemain, Paul de Kock, George Sand, Eugene Sue; inGerman--Goethe, Schiller, Zschokke, Jean Paul Richter; in English therewere works on Political Economy. I examined no further, for Mr. Hunsdenhimself recalled my attention. 

"You shall have something, " said he, "for you ought to feel disposed forrefreshment after walking nobody knows how far on such a Canadian nightas this; but it shall not be brandy-and-water, and it shall not bea bottle of port, nor ditto of sherry. I keep no such poison. I haveRhein-wein for my own drinking, and you may choose between that andcoffee. "

Here again Hunsden suited me: if there was one generally receivedpractice I abhorred more than another, it was the habitual imbibing ofspirits and strong wines. I had, however, no fancy for his acid Germannectar, but I liked coffee, so I responded--

"Give me some coffee, Mr. Hunsden. "

I perceived my answer pleased him; he had doubtless expected to see achilling effect produced by his steady announcement that he would giveme neither wine nor spirits; he just shot one searching glance at myface to ascertain whether my cordiality was genuine or a mere feintof politeness. I smiled, because I quite understood him; and, while Ihonoured his conscientious firmness, I was amused at his mistrust; heseemed satisfied, rang the bell, and ordered coffee, which was presentlybrought; for himself, a bunch of grapes and half a pint of somethingsour sufficed. My coffee was excellent; I told him so, and expressed theshuddering pity with which his anchorite fare inspired me. He did notanswer, and I scarcely think heard my remark. At that moment one ofthose momentary eclipses I before alluded to had come over his face, extinguishing his smile, and replacing, by an abstracted and alienatedlook, the customarily shrewd, bantering glance of his eye. I employedthe interval of silence in a rapid scrutiny of his physiognomy. I hadnever observed him closely before; and, as my sight is very short, I hadgathered only a vague, general idea of his appearance; I was surprisednow, on examination, to perceive how small, and even feminine, were hislineaments; his tall figure, long and dark locks, his voice and generalbearing, had impressed me with the notion of something powerful andmassive; not at all:--my own features were cast in a harsher and squarermould than his. I discerned that there would be contrasts between hisinward and outward man; contentions, too; for I suspected his soulhad more of will and ambition than his body had of fibre and muscle. Perhaps, in these incompatibilities of the "physique" with the "morale, "lay the secret of that fitful gloom; he WOULD but COULD not, and theathletic mind scowled scorn on its more fragile companion. As to hisgood looks, I should have liked to have a woman's opinion on thatsubject; it seemed to me that his face might produce the same effecton a lady that a very piquant and interesting, though scarcely pretty, female face would on a man. I have mentioned his dark locks--they werebrushed sideways above a white and sufficiently expansive forehead; hischeek had a rather hectic freshness; his features might have done wellon canvas, but indifferently in marble: they were plastic; characterhad set a stamp upon each; expression re-cast them at her pleasure, andstrange metamorphoses she wrought, giving him now the mien of a morosebull, and anon that of an arch and mischievous girl; more frequently, the two semblances were blent, and a queer, composite countenance theymade. 

Starting from his silent fit, he began:--

"William! what a fool you are to live in those dismal lodgings of Mrs. King's, when you might take rooms here in Grove Street, and have agarden like me!"

"I should be too far from the mill. "

"What of that? It would do you good to walk there and back two or threetimes a day; besides, are you such a fossil that you never wish to see aflower or a green leaf?"

"I am no fossil. "

"What are you then? You sit at that desk in Crimsworth's counting-houseday by day and week by week, scraping with a pen on paper, just like anautomaton; you never get up; you never say you are tired; you never askfor a holiday; you never take change or relaxation; you give way tono excess of an evening; you neither keep wild company, nor indulge instrong drink. "

"Do you, Mr. Hunsden?"

"Don't think to pose me with short questions; your case and mineare diametrically different, and it is nonsense attempting to draw aparallel. I say, that when a man endures patiently what ought to beunendurable, he is a fossil. "

"Whence do you acquire the knowledge of my patience?"

"Why, man, do you suppose you are a mystery? The other night you seemedsurprised at my knowing to what family you belonged; now you findsubject for wonderment in my calling you patient. What do you think I dowith my eyes and ears? I've been in your counting-house more than oncewhen Crimsworth has treated you like a dog; called for a book, forinstance, and when you gave him the wrong one, or what he chose toconsider the wrong one, flung it back almost in your face; desired youto shut or open the door as if you had been his flunkey; to say nothingof your position at the party about a month ago, where you had neitherplace nor partner, but hovered about like a poor, shabby hanger-on; andhow patient you were under each and all of these circumstances!"

"Well, Mr. Hunsden, what then?"

"I can hardly tell you what then; the conclusion to be drawn as toyour character depends upon the nature of the motives which guideyour conduct; if you are patient because you expect to make somethingeventually out of Crimsworth, notwithstanding his tyranny, or perhaps bymeans of it, you are what the world calls an interested and mercenary, but may be a very wise fellow; if you are patient because you think it aduty to meet insult with submission, you are an essential sap, and inno shape the man for my money; if you are patient because your nature isphlegmatic, flat, inexcitable, and that you cannot get up to the pitchof resistance, why, God made you to be crushed; and lie down by allmeans, and lie flat, and let Juggernaut ride well over you. "

Mr. Hunsden's eloquence was not, it will be perceived, of the smooth andoily order. As he spoke, he pleased me ill. I seem to recognize in himone of those characters who, sensitive enough themselves, are selfishlyrelentless towards the sensitiveness of others. Moreover, though hewas neither like Crimsworth nor Lord Tynedale, yet he was acrid, and, Isuspected, overbearing in his way: there was a tone of despotism inthe urgency of the very reproaches by which, he aimed at goading theoppressed into rebellion against the oppressor. Looking at him stillmore fixedly than I had yet done, I saw written in his eye and mien aresolution to arrogate to himself a freedom so unlimited that it mightoften trench on the just liberty of his neighbours. I rapidly ran overthese thoughts, and then I laughed a low and involuntary laugh, movedthereto by a slight inward revelation of the inconsistency of man. It was as I thought: Hunsden had expected me to take with calm hisincorrect and offensive surmises, his bitter and haughty taunts; andhimself was chafed by a laugh, scarce louder than a whisper. 

His brow darkened, his thin nostril dilated a little. 

"Yes, " he began, "I told you that you were an aristocrat, and who butan aristocrat would laugh such a laugh as that, and look such a look?A laugh frigidly jeering; a look lazily mutinous; gentlemanlike irony, patrician resentment. What a nobleman you would have made, WilliamCrimsworth! You are cut out for one; pity Fortune has baulked Nature!Look at the features, figure, even to the hands--distinction allover--ugly distinction! Now, if you'd only an estate and a mansion, and a park, and a title, how you could play the exclusive, maintain therights of your class, train your tenantry in habits of respect to thepeerage, oppose at every step the advancing power of the people, supportyour rotten order, and be ready for its sake to wade knee-deep inchurls' blood; as it is, you've no power; you can do nothing; you'rewrecked and stranded on the shores of commerce; forced into collisionwith practical men, with whom you cannot cope, for YOU'LL NEVER BE ATRADESMAN. "

The first part of Hunsden's speech moved me not at all, or, if it did, it was only to wonder at the perversion into which prejudice had twistedhis judgment of my character; the concluding sentence, however, not onlymoved, but shook me; the blow it gave was a severe one, because Truthwielded the weapon. If I smiled now, it, was only in disdain of myself. 

Hunsden saw his advantage; he followed it up. 

"You'll make nothing by trade, " continued he; "nothing more than thecrust of dry bread and the draught of fair water on which you now live;your only chance of getting a competency lies in marrying a rich widow, or running away with an heiress. "

"I leave such shifts to be put in practice by those who devise them, "said I, rising. 

"And even that is hopeless, " he went on coolly. "What widow would haveyou? Much less, what heiress? You're not bold and venturesome enough forthe one, nor handsome and fascinating enough for the other. You thinkperhaps you look intelligent and polished; carry your intellect andrefinement to market, and tell me in a private note what price is bidfor them. "

Mr. Hunsden had taken his tone for the night; the string he struck wasout of tune, he would finger no other. Averse to discord, of which I hadenough every day and all day long, I concluded, at last, that silenceand solitude were preferable to jarring converse; I bade him good-night. 

"What! Are you going, lad? Well, good-night: you'll find the door. " Andhe sat still in front of the fire, while I left the room and the house. I had got a good way on my return to my lodgings before I found out thatI was walking very fast, and breathing very hard, and that my nails werealmost stuck into the palms of my clenched hands, and that my teeth wereset fast; on making this discovery, I relaxed both my pace, fists, andjaws, but I could not so soon cause the regrets rushing rapidly throughmy mind to slacken their tide. Why did I make myself a tradesman? Whydid I enter Hunsden's house this evening? Why, at dawn to-morrow, mustI repair to Crimsworth's mill? All that night did I ask myself thesequestions, and all that night fiercely demanded of my soul an answer. Igot no sleep; my head burned, my feet froze; at last the factory bellsrang, and I sprang from my bed with other slaves. 

CHAPTER V. 

THERE is a climax to everything, to every state of feeling as well as toevery position in life. I turned this truism over in my mind as, in thefrosty dawn of a January morning, I hurried down the steep and nowicy street which descended from Mrs. King's to the Close. The factoryworkpeople had preceded me by nearly an hour, and the mill was alllighted up and in full operation when I reached it. I repaired to mypost in the counting-house as usual; the fire there, but just lit, asyet only smoked; Steighton had not yet arrived. I shut the door and satdown at the desk; my hands, recently washed in half-frozen water, werestill numb; I could not write till they had regained vitality, so Iwent on thinking, and still the theme of my thoughts was the "climax. "Self-dissatisfaction troubled exceedingly the current of my meditations. 

"Come, William Crimsworth, " said my conscience, or whatever it is thatwithin ourselves takes ourselves to task--"come, get a clear notion ofwhat you would have, or what you would not have. You talk of a climax;pray has your endurance reached its climax? It is not four months old. What a fine resolute fellow you imagined yourself to be when you toldTynedale you would tread in your father's steps, and a pretty treadingyou are likely to make of it! How well you like X----! Just at thismoment how redolent of pleasant associations are its streets, its shops, its warehouses, its factories! How the prospect of this day cheersyou! Letter-copying till noon, solitary dinner at your lodgings, letter-copying till evening, solitude; for you neither find pleasurein Brown's, nor Smith's, nor Nicholl's, nor Eccle's company; and asto Hunsden, you fancied there was pleasure to be derived from hissociety--he! he! how did you like the taste you had of him last night?was it sweet? Yet he is a talented, an original-minded man, and evenhe does not like you; your self-respect defies you to like him; he hasalways seen you to disadvantage; he always will see you to disadvantage;your positions are unequal, and were they on the same level yourminds could not; assimilate; never hope, then, to gather the honey offriendship out of that thorn-guarded plant. Hello, Crimsworth! where areyour thoughts tending? You leave the recollection of Hunsden as a beewould a rock, as a bird a desert; and your aspirations spread eagerwings towards a land of visions where, now in advancing daylight--inX---- daylight--you dare to dream of congeniality, repose, union. Thosethree you will never meet in this world; they are angels. The souls ofjust men made perfect may encounter them in heaven, but your soul willnever be made perfect. Eight o'clock strikes! your hands are thawed, getto work!"

"Work? why should I work?" said I sullenly: "I cannot please though Itoil like a slave. " "Work, work!" reiterated the inward voice. "I maywork, it will do no good, " I growled; but nevertheless I drew out apacket of letters and commenced my task--task thankless and bitter asthat of the Israelite crawling over the sun-baked fields of Egypt insearch of straw and stubble wherewith to accomplish his tale of bricks. 

About ten o'clock I heard Mr. Crimsworth's gig turn into the yard, andin a minute or two he entered the counting-house. It was his custom toglance his eye at Steighton and myself, to hang up his mackintosh, standa minute with his back to the fire, and then walk out. Today he didnot deviate from his usual habits; the only difference was that whenhe looked at me, his brow, instead of being merely hard, was surly; hiseye, instead of being cold, was fierce. He studied me a minute or twolonger than usual, but went out in silence. 

Twelve o'clock arrived; the bell rang for a suspension of labour; theworkpeople went off to their dinners; Steighton, too, departed, desiringme to lock the counting-house door, and take the key with me. Iwas tying up a bundle of papers, and putting them in their place, preparatory to closing my desk, when Crimsworth reappeared at the door, and entering closed it behind him. 

"You'll stay here a minute, " said he, in a deep, brutal voice, while hisnostrils distended and his eye shot a spark of sinister fire. 

Alone with Edward I remembered our relationship, and remembering thatforgot the difference of position; I put away deference and carefulforms of speech; I answered with simple brevity. 

"It is time to go home, " I said, turning the key in my desk. 

"You'll stay here!" he reiterated. "And take your hand off that key!leave it in the lock!"

"Why?" asked I. "What cause is there for changing my usual plans?"

"Do as I order, " was the answer, "and no questions! You are my servant, obey me! What have you been about--?" He was going on in the samebreath, when an abrupt pause announced that rage had for the moment gotthe better of articulation. 

"You may look, if you wish to know, " I replied. "There is the open desk, there are the papers. "

"Confound your insolence! What have you been about?"

"Your work, and have done it well. "

"Hypocrite and twaddler! Smooth-faced, snivelling greasehorn!" (thislast term is, I believe, purely ----shire, and alludes to the horn ofblack, rancid whale-oil, usually to be seen suspended to cart-wheels, and employed for greasing the same. )

"Come, Edward Crimsworth, enough of this. It is time you and I wound upaccounts. I have now given your service three months' trial, and I findit the most nauseous slavery under the sun. Seek another clerk. I stayno longer. "

"What I do you dare to give me notice? Stop at least for your wages. " Hetook down the heavy gig whip hanging beside his mackintosh. 

I permitted myself to laugh with a degree of scorn I took no pains totemper or hide. His fury boiled up, and when he had sworn half-a-dozenvulgar, impious oaths, without, however, venturing to lift the whip, hecontinued:

"I've found you out and know you thoroughly, you mean, whininglickspittle! What have you been saying all over X---- about me? answerme that!"

"You? I have neither inclination nor temptation to talk about you. "

"You lie! It is your practice to talk about me; it is your constanthabit to make public complaint of the treatment you receive at my hands. You have gone and told it far and near that I give you low wages andknock you about like a dog. I wish you were a dog! I'd set-to thisminute, and never stir from the spot till I'd cut every strip of fleshfrom your bones with this whip. "

He flourished his tool. The end of the lash just touched my forehead. A warm excited thrill ran through my veins, my blood seemed to giveabound, and then raced fast and hot along its channels. I got up nimbly, came round to where he stood, and faced him. 

"Down with your whip!" said I, "and explain this instant what you mean. "

"Sirrah! to whom are you speaking?"

"To you. There is no one else present, I think. You say I have beencalumniating you--complaining of your low wages and bad treatment. Giveyour grounds for these assertions. "

Crimsworth had no dignity, and when I sternly demanded an explanation, he gave one in a loud, scolding voice. 

"Grounds! you shall have them; and turn to the light that I may see yourbrazen face blush black, when you hear yourself proved to be a liar anda hypocrite. At a public meeting in the Town-hall yesterday, I had thepleasure of hearing myself insulted by the speaker opposed to me in thequestion under discussion, by allusions to my private affairs; by cantabout monsters without natural affection, family despots, and suchtrash; and when I rose to answer, I was met by a shout from the filthymob, where the mention of your name enabled me at once to detect thequarter in which this base attack had originated. When I looked round, Isaw that treacherous villain, Hunsden acting as fugleman. I detected youin close conversation with Hunsden at my house a month ago, and I knowthat you were at Hunsden's rooms last night. Deny it if you dare. "

"Oh, I shall not deny it! And if Hunsden hounded on the people to hissyou, he did quite right. You deserve popular execration; for a worseman, a harder master, a more brutal brother than you are has seldomexisted. "

"Sirrah! sirrah!" reiterated Crimsworth; and to complete his apostrophe, he cracked the whip straight over my head. 

A minute sufficed to wrest it from him, break it in two pieces, andthrow it under the grate. He made a headlong rush at me, which I evaded, and said--

"Touch me, and I'll have you up before the nearest magistrate. "

Men like Crimsworth, if firmly and calmly resisted, always abatesomething of their exorbitant insolence; he had no mind to be broughtbefore a magistrate, and I suppose he saw I meant what I said. Afteran odd and long stare at me, at once bull-like and amazed, he seemedto bethink himself that, after all, his money gave him sufficientsuperiority over a beggar like me, and that he had in his hands a surerand more dignified mode of revenge than the somewhat hazardous one ofpersonal chastisement. 

"Take your hat, " said he. "Take what belongs to you, and go out atthat door; get away to your parish, you pauper: beg, steal, starve, gettransported, do what you like; but at your peril venture again intomy sight! If ever I hear of your setting foot on an inch of groundbelonging to me, I'll hire a man to cane you. "

"It is not likely you'll have the chance; once off your premises, whattemptation can I have to return to them? I leave a prison, I leave atyrant; I leave what is worse than the worst that can lie before me, sono fear of my coming back. "

"Go, or I'll make you!" exclaimed Crimsworth. 

I walked deliberately to my desk, took out such of its contents as weremy own property, put them in my pocket, locked the desk, and placed thekey on the top. 

"What are you abstracting from that desk?" demanded the millowner. "Leave all behind in its place, or I'll send for a policeman to searchyou. "

"Look sharp about it, then, " said I, and I took down my hat, drew on mygloves, and walked leisurely out of the counting-house--walked out of itto enter it no more. 

I recollect that when the mill-bell rang the dinner hour, before Mr. Crimsworth entered, and the scene above related took place, I had hadrather a sharp appetite, and had been waiting somewhat impatiently tohear the signal of feeding time. I forgot it now, however; the imagesof potatoes and roast mutton were effaced from my mind by the stir andtumult which the transaction of the last half-hour had there excited. Ionly thought of walking, that the action of my muscles might harmonizewith the action of my nerves; and walk I did, fast and far. How couldI do otherwise? A load was lifted off my heart; I felt light andliberated. I had got away from Bigben Close without a breach ofresolution; without injury to my self-respect. I had not forcedcircumstances; circumstances had freed me. Life was again open to me;no longer was its horizon limited by the high black wall surroundingCrimsworth's mill. Two hours had elapsed before my sensations had so farsubsided as to leave me calm enough to remark for what wider and clearerboundaries I had exchanged that sooty girdle. When I did look up, lo!straight before me lay Grovetown, a village of villas about five milesout of X----. The short winter day, as I perceived from the far-declinedsun, was already approaching its close; a chill frost-mist was risingfrom the river on which X---- stands, and along whose banks the road Ihad taken lay; it dimmed the earth, but did not obscure the clear icyblue of the January sky. There was a great stillness near and far; thetime of the day favoured tranquillity, as the people were all employedwithin-doors, the hour of evening release from the factories not beingyet arrived; a sound of full-flowing water alone pervaded the air, forthe river was deep and abundant, swelled by the melting of a late snow. I stood awhile, leaning over a wall; and looking down at the current:I watched the rapid rush of its waves. I desired memory to take a clearand permanent impression of the scene, and treasure it for future years. Grovetown church clock struck four; looking up, I beheld the last ofthat day's sun, glinting red through the leafless boughs of somevery old oak trees surrounding the church--its light coloured andcharacterized the picture as I wished. I paused yet a moment, till thesweet, slow sound of the bell had quite died out of the air; then ear, eye and feeling satisfied, I quitted the wall and once more turned myface towards X----. 

CHAPTER VI. 

I RE-ENTERED the town a hungry man; the dinner I had forgotten recurredseductively to my recollection; and it was with a quick step and sharpappetite I ascended the narrow street leading to my lodgings. It wasdark when I opened the front door and walked into the house. I wonderedhow my fire would be; the night was cold, and I shuddered at theprospect of a grate full of sparkless cinders. To my joyful surprise, I found, on entering my sitting-room, a good fire and a clean hearth. I had hardly noticed this phenomenon, when I became aware of anothersubject for wonderment; the chair I usually occupied near the hearth wasalready filled; a person sat there with his arms folded on his chest, and his legs stretched out on the rug. Short-sighted as I am, doubtfulas was the gleam of the firelight, a moment's examination enabled me torecognize in this person my acquaintance, Mr. Hunsden. I could not ofcourse be much pleased to see him, considering the manner in which I hadparted from him the night before, and as I walked to the hearth, stirredthe fire, and said coolly, "Good evening, " my demeanour evinced aslittle cordiality as I felt; yet I wondered in my own mind what hadbrought him there; and I wondered, also, what motives had induced him tointerfere so actively between me and Edward; it was to him, it appeared, that I owed my welcome dismissal; still I could not bring myself toask him questions, to show any eagerness of curiosity; if he chose toexplain, he might, but the explanation should be a perfectly voluntaryone on his part; I thought he was entering upon it. 

"You owe me a debt of gratitude, " were his first words. 

"Do I?" said I; "I hope it is not a large one, for I am much too poor tocharge myself with heavy liabilities of any kind. "

"Then declare yourself bankrupt at once, for this liability is a tonweight at least. When I came in I found your fire out, and I had it litagain, and made that sulky drab of a servant stay and blow at it withthe bellows till it had burnt up properly; now, say 'Thank you!'"

"Not till I have had something to eat; I can thank nobody while I am sofamished. "

I rang the bell and ordered tea and some cold meat. 

"Cold meat!" exclaimed Hunsden, as the servant closed the door, "what aglutton you are; man! Meat with tea! you'll die of eating too much. "

"No, Mr. Hunsden, I shall not. " I felt a necessity for contradictinghim; I was irritated with hunger, and irritated at seeing him there, andirritated at the continued roughness of his manner. 

"It is over-eating that makes you so ill-tempered, " said he. 

"How do you know?" I demanded. "It is like you to give a pragmaticalopinion without being acquainted with any of the circumstances of thecase; I have had no dinner. "

What I said was petulant and snappish enough, and Hunsden only repliedby looking in my face and laughing. 

"Poor thing!" he whined, after a pause. "It has had no dinner, has it?What! I suppose its master would not let it come home. Did Crimsworthorder you to fast by way of punishment, William!"

"No, Mr. Hunsden. Fortunately at this sulky juncture, tea, was broughtin, and I fell to upon some bread and butter and cold beef directly. Having cleared a plateful, I became so far humanized as to intimate toMr. Hunsden that he need not sit there staring, but might come to thetable and do as I did, if he liked. "

"But I don't like in the least, " said he, and therewith he summoned theservant by a fresh pull of the bell-rope, and intimated a desire tohave a glass of toast-and-water. "And some more coal, " he added; "Mr. Crimsworth shall keep a good fire while I stay. "

His orders being executed, he wheeled his chair round to the table, soas to be opposite me. 

"Well, " he proceeded. "You are out of work, I suppose. "

"Yes, " said I; and not disposed to show the satisfaction I felt on thispoint, I, yielding to the whim of the moment, took up the subject asthough I considered myself aggrieved rather than benefited by what hadbeen done. "Yes--thanks to you, I am. Crimsworth turned me off ata minute's notice, owing to some interference of yours at a publicmeeting, I understand. "

"Ah! what! he mentioned that? He observed me signalling the lads, didhe? What had he to say about his friend Hunsden--anything sweet?"

"He called you a treacherous villain. "

"Oh, he hardly knows me yet! I'm one of those shy people who don't comeout all at once, and he is only just beginning to make my acquaintance, but he'll find I've some good qualities--excellent ones! The Hunsdenswere always unrivalled at tracking a rascal; a downright, dishonourablevillain is their natural prey--they could not keep off him whereverthey met him; you used the word pragmatical just now--that word is theproperty of our family; it has been applied to us from generation togeneration; we have fine noses for abuses; we scent a scoundrel a mileoff; we are reformers born, radical reformers; and it was impossible forme to live in the same town with Crimsworth, to come into weekly contactwith him, to witness some of his conduct to you (for whom personallyI care nothing; I only consider the brutal injustice with which heviolated your natural claim to equality)--I say it was impossible forme to be thus situated and not feel the angel or the demon of my raceat work within me. I followed my instinct, opposed a tyrant, and broke achain. "

Now this speech interested me much, both because it brought outHunsden's character, and because it explained his motives; it interestedme so much that I forgot to reply to it, and sat silent, pondering overa throng of ideas it had suggested. 

"Are you grateful to me?" he asked, presently. 

In fact I was grateful, or almost so, and I believe I half liked him atthe moment, notwithstanding his proviso that what he had done was notout of regard for me. But human nature is perverse. Impossible to answerhis blunt question in the affirmative, so I disclaimed all tendencyto gratitude, and advised him if he expected any reward for hischampionship, to look for it in a better world, as he was not likelyto meet with it here. In reply he termed me "a dry-hearted aristocraticscamp, " whereupon I again charged him with having taken the bread out ofmy mouth. 

"Your bread was dirty, man!" cried Hunsden--"dirty and unwholesome!It came through the hands of a tyrant, for I tell you Crimsworth is atyrant, --a tyrant to his workpeople, a tyrant to his clerks, and willsome day be a tyrant to his wife. "

"Nonsense! bread is bread, and a salary is a salary. I've lost mine, andthrough your means. "

"There's sense in what you say, after all, " rejoined Hunsden. "I mustsay I am rather agreeably surprised to hear you make so practicalan observation as that last. I had imagined now, from my previousobservation of your character, that the sentimental delight you wouldhave taken in your newly regained liberty would, for a while at least, have effaced all ideas of forethought and prudence. I think better ofyou for looking steadily to the needful. "

"Looking steadily to the needful! How can I do otherwise? I must live, and to live I must have what you call 'the needful, ' which I can onlyget by working. I repeat it, you have taken my work from me. "

"What do you mean to do?" pursued Hunsden coolly. "You have influentialrelations; I suppose they'll soon provide you with another place. "

"Influential relations? Who? I should like to know their names. "

"The Seacombes. "

"Stuff! I have cut them. "

Hunsden looked at me incredulously. 

"I have, " said I, "and that definitively. "

"You must mean they have cut you, William. "

"As you please. They offered me their patronage on condition of myentering the Church; I declined both the terms and the recompence; Iwithdrew from my cold uncles, and preferred throwing myself into myelder brother's arms, from whose affectionate embrace I am now torn bythe cruel intermeddling of a stranger--of yourself, in short. "

I could not repress a half-smile as I said this; a similardemi-manifestation of feeling appeared at the same moment on Hunsden'slips. 

"Oh, I see!" said he, looking into my eyes, and it was evident he didsee right down into my heart. Having sat a minute or two with his chinresting on his hand, diligently occupied in the continued perusal of mycountenance, he went on:

"Seriously, have you then nothing to expect from the Seacombes?"

"Yes, rejection and repulsion. Why do you ask me twice? How can handsstained with the ink of a counting-house, soiled with the grease ofa wool-warehouse, ever again be permitted to come into contact witharistocratic palms?"

"There would be a difficulty, no doubt; still you are such a completeSeacombe in appearance, feature, language, almost manner, I wonder theyshould disown you. "

"They have disowned me; so talk no more about it. "

"Do you regret it, William?"

"No. "

"Why not, lad?"

"Because they are not people with whom I could ever have had anysympathy. "

"I say you are one of them. "

"That merely proves that you know nothing at all about it; I am mymother's son, but not my uncles' nephew. "

"Still--one of your uncles is a lord, though rather an obscure and not avery wealthy one, and the other a right honourable: you should considerworldly interest. "

"Nonsense, Mr. Hunsden. You know or may know that even had I desired tobe submissive to my uncles, I could not have stooped with a good enoughgrace ever to have won their favour. I should have sacrificed my owncomfort and not have gained their patronage in return. "

"Very likely--so you calculated your wisest plan was to follow your owndevices at once?"

"Exactly. I must follow my own devices--I must, till the day of mydeath; because I can neither comprehend, adopt, nor work out those ofother people. "

Hunsden yawned. "Well, " said he, "in all this, I see but one thingclearly-that is, that the whole affair is no business of mine. " Hestretched himself and again yawned. "I wonder what time it is, " he wenton: "I have an appointment for seven o'clock. "

"Three quarters past six by my watch. "

"Well, then I'll go. " He got up. "You'll not meddle with trade again?"said he, leaning his elbow on the mantelpiece. 

"No; I think not. "

"You would be a fool if you did. Probably, after all, you'll thinkbetter of your uncles' proposal and go into the Church. "

"A singular regeneration must take place in my whole inner and outer manbefore I do that. A good clergyman is one of the best of men. "

"Indeed! Do you think so?" interrupted Hunsden, scoffingly. 

"I do, and no mistake. But I have not the peculiar points which go tomake a good clergyman; and rather than adopt a profession for which Ihave no vocation, I would endure extremities of hardship from poverty. "

"You're a mighty difficult customer to suit. You won't be a tradesmanor a parson; you can't be a lawyer, or a doctor, or a gentleman, becauseyou've no money. I'd recommend you to travel. "

"What! without money?"

"You must travel in search of money, man. You can speak French--witha vile English accent, no doubt--still, you can speak it. Go on to theContinent, and see what will turn up for you there. "

"God knows I should like to go!" exclaimed I with involuntary ardour. 

"Go: what the deuce hinders you? You may get to Brussels, for instance, for five or six pounds, if you know how to manage with economy. "

"Necessity would teach me if I didn't. "

"Go, then, and let your wits make a way for you when you get there. Iknow Brussels almost as well as I know X----, and I am sure it wouldsuit such a one as you better than London. "

"But occupation, Mr. Hunsden! I must go where occupation is to be had;and how could I get recommendation, or introduction, or employment atBrussels?"

"There speaks the organ of caution. You hate to advance a step beforeyou know every inch of the way. You haven't a sheet of paper and apen-and-ink?"

"I hope so, " and I produced writing materials with alacrity; for Iguessed what he was going to do. He sat down, wrote a few lines, folded, sealed, and addressed a letter, and held it out to me. 

"There, Prudence, there's a pioneer to hew down the first roughdifficulties of your path. I know well enough, lad, you are not one ofthose who will run their neck into a noose without seeing how theyare to get it out again, and you're right there. A reckless man ismy aversion, and nothing should ever persuade me to meddle with theconcerns of such a one. Those who are reckless for themselves aregenerally ten times more so for their friends. "

"This is a letter of introduction, I suppose?" said I, taking theepistle. 

"Yes. With that in your pocket you will run no risk of finding yourselfin a state of absolute destitution, which, I know, you will regard as adegradation--so should I, for that matter. The person to whom you willpresent it generally has two or three respectable places depending uponhis recommendation. "

"That will just suit me, " said I. 

"Well, and where's your gratitude?" demanded Mr. Hunsden; "don't youknow how to say 'Thank you?'"

"I've fifteen pounds and a watch, which my godmother, whom I never saw, gave me eighteen years ago, " was my rather irrelevant answer; and Ifurther avowed myself a happy man, and professed that I did not envy anybeing in Christendom. 

"But your gratitude?"

"I shall be off presently, Mr. Hunsden--to-morrow, if all be well: I'llnot stay a day longer in X---- than I'm obliged. "

"Very good--but it will be decent to make due acknowledgment for theassistance you have received; be quick! It is just going to strikeseven: I'm waiting to be thanked. "

"Just stand out of the way, will you, Mr. Hunsden: I want a key there ison the corner of the mantelpiece. I'll pack my portmanteau before I goto bed. "

The house clock struck seven. 

"The lad is a heathen, " said Hunsden, and taking his hat from asideboard, he left the room, laughing to himself. I had half aninclination to follow him: I really intended to leave X---- the nextmorning, and should certainly not have another opportunity of biddinghim good-bye. The front door banged to. 

"Let him go, " said I, "we shall meet again some day. "

CHAPTER VII. 

READER, perhaps you were never in Belgium? Haply you don't know thephysiognomy of the country? You have not its lineaments defined uponyour memory, as I have them on mine?

Three--nay four--pictures line the four-walled cell where are stored forme the records of the past. First, Eton. All in that picture is in farperspective, receding, diminutive; but freshly coloured, green, dewy, with a spring sky, piled with glittering yet showery clouds; for mychildhood was not all sunshine--it had its overcast, its cold, itsstormy hours. Second, X----, huge, dingy; the canvas cracked and smoked;a yellow sky, sooty clouds; no sun, no azure; the verdure of the suburbsblighted and sullied--a very dreary scene. 

Third, Belgium; and I will pause before this landscape. As to thefourth, a curtain covers it, which I may hereafter withdraw, or may not, as suits my convenience and capacity. At any rate, for the present itmust hang undisturbed. Belgium! name unromantic and unpoetic, yet namethat whenever uttered has in my ear a sound, in my heart an echo, suchas no other assemblage of syllables, however sweet or classic, canproduce. Belgium! I repeat the word, now as I sit alone near midnight. It stirs my world of the past like a summons to resurrection; the gravesunclose, the dead are raised; thoughts, feelings, memories that slept, are seen by me ascending from the clouds--haloed most of them--but whileI gaze on their vapoury forms, and strive to ascertain definitely theiroutline, the sound which wakened them dies, and they sink, each and all, like a light wreath of mist, absorbed in the mould, recalled to urns, resealed in monuments. Farewell, luminous phantoms!

This is Belgium, reader. Look! don't call the picture a flat or a dullone--it was neither flat nor dull to me when I first beheld it. When Ileft Ostend on a mild February morning, and found myself on the roadto Brussels, nothing could look vapid to me. My sense of enjoymentpossessed an edge whetted to the finest, untouched, keen, exquisite. I was young; I had good health; pleasure and I had never met; noindulgence of hers had enervated or sated one faculty of my nature. Liberty I clasped in my arms for the first time, and the influence ofher smile and embrace revived my life like the sun and the west wind. Yes, at that epoch I felt like a morning traveller who doubts not thatfrom the hill he is ascending he shall behold a glorious sunrise; whatif the track be strait, steep, and stony? he sees it not; his eyes arefixed on that summit, flushed already, flushed and gilded, and havinggained it he is certain of the scene beyond. He knows that the sun willface him, that his chariot is even now coming over the eastern horizon, and that the herald breeze he feels on his cheek is opening for thegod's career a clear, vast path of azure, amidst clouds soft as pearland warm as flame. Difficulty and toil were to be my lot, but sustainedby energy, drawn on by hopes as bright as vague, I deemed such a lotno hardship. I mounted now the hill in shade; there were pebbles, inequalities, briars in my path, but my eyes were fixed on the crimsonpeak above; my imagination was with the refulgent firmament beyond, andI thought nothing of the stones turning under my feet, or of the thornsscratching my face and hands. 

I gazed often, and always with delight, from the window of the diligence(these, be it remembered, were not the days of trains and railroads). Well! and what did I see? I will tell you faithfully. Green, reedyswamps; fields fertile but flat, cultivated in patches that made themlook like magnified kitchen-gardens; belts of cut trees, formal aspollard willows, skirting the horizon; narrow canals, gliding slow bythe road-side; painted Flemish farmhouses; some very dirty hovels; agray, dead sky; wet road, wet fields, wet house-tops: not a beautiful, scarcely a picturesque object met my eye along the whole route; yet tome, all was beautiful, all was more than picturesque. It continued fairso long as daylight lasted, though the moisture of many preceding dampdays had sodden the whole country; as it grew dark, however, the rainrecommenced, and it was through streaming and starless darkness my eyecaught the first gleam of the lights of Brussels. I saw little of thecity but its lights that night. Having alighted from the diligence, afiacre conveyed me to the Hotel de ----, where I had been advised by afellow-traveller to put up; having eaten a traveller's supper, I retiredto bed, and slept a traveller's sleep. 

Next morning I awoke from prolonged and sound repose with the impressionthat I was yet in X----, and perceiving it to be broad daylight Istarted up, imagining that I had overslept myself and should be behindtime at the counting-house. The momentary and painful sense of restraintvanished before the revived and reviving consciousness of freedom, as, throwing back the white curtains of my bed, I looked forth into a wide, lofty foreign chamber; how different from the small and dingy, thoughnot uncomfortable, apartment I had occupied for a night or two at arespectable inn in London while waiting for the sailing of the packet!Yet far be it from me to profane the memory of that little dingy room!It, too, is dear to my soul; for there, as I lay in quiet and darkness, I first heard the great bell of St. Paul's telling London it wasmidnight, and well do I recall the deep, deliberate tones, so fullcharged with colossal phlegm and force. From the small, narrow windowof that room, I first saw THE dome, looming through a London mist. Isuppose the sensations, stirred by those first sounds, first sights, arefelt but once; treasure them, Memory; seal them in urns, and keep themin safe niches! Well--I rose. Travellers talk of the apartments inforeign dwellings being bare and uncomfortable; I thought my chamberlooked stately and cheerful. It had such large windows--CROISEES thatopened like doors, with such broad, clear panes of glass; such a greatlooking-glass stood on my dressing-table--such a fine mirror glitteredover the mantelpiece--the painted floor looked so clean and glossy;when I had dressed and was descending the stairs, the broad marble stepsalmost awed me, and so did the lofty hall into which they conducted. On the first landing I met a Flemish housemaid: she had wooden shoes, ashort red petticoat, a printed cotton bedgown, her face was broad, her physiognomy eminently stupid; when I spoke to her in French, sheanswered me in Flemish, with an air the reverse of civil; yet I thoughther charming; if she was not pretty or polite, she was, I conceived, very picturesque; she reminded me of the female figures in certain Dutchpaintings I had seen in other years at Seacombe Hall. 

I repaired to the public room; that, too, was very large and very lofty, and warmed by a stove; the floor was black, and the stove was black, andmost of the furniture was black: yet I never experienced a freersense of exhilaration than when I sat down at a very long, black table(covered, however, in part by a white cloth), and, having orderedbreakfast, began to pour out my coffee from a little black coffee-pot. The stove might be dismal-looking to some eyes, not to mine, but itwas indisputably very warm, and there were two gentlemen seated byit talking in French; impossible to follow their rapid utterance, orcomprehend much of the purport of what they said--yet French, in themouths of Frenchmen, or Belgians (I was not then sensible of the horrorsof the Belgian accent) was as music to my ears. One of these gentlemenpresently discerned me to be an Englishman--no doubt from the fashion inwhich I addressed the waiter; for I would persist in speaking French inmy execrable South-of-England style, though the man understood English. The gentleman, after looking towards me once or twice, politely accostedme in very good English; I remember I wished to God that I could speakFrench as well; his fluency and correct pronunciation impressed me forthe first time with a due notion of the cosmopolitan character of thecapital I was in; it was my first experience of that skill in livinglanguages I afterwards found to be so general in Brussels. 

I lingered over my breakfast as long as I could; while it was thereon the table, and while that stranger continued talking to me, I was afree, independent traveller; but at last the things were removed, thetwo gentlemen left the room; suddenly the illusion ceased, reality andbusiness came back. I, a bondsman just released from the yoke, freed forone week from twenty-one years of constraint, must, of necessity, resumethe fetters of dependency. Hardly had I tasted the delight of beingwithout a master when duty issued her stern mandate: "Go forth and seekanother service. " I never linger over a painful and necessary task; Inever take pleasure before business, it is not in my nature to do so;impossible to enjoy a leisurely walk over the city, though I perceivedthe morning was very fine, until I had first presented Mr. Hunsden'sletter of introduction, and got fairly on to the track of a newsituation. Wrenching my mind from liberty and delight, I seized my hat, and forced my reluctant body out of the Hotel de ---- into the foreignstreet. 

It was a fine day, but I would not look at the blue sky or at thestately houses round me; my mind was bent on one thing, finding out "Mr. Brown, Numero --, Rue Royale, " for so my letter was addressed. By dintof inquiry I succeeded; I stood at last at the desired door, knocked, asked for Mr. Brown, and was admitted. 

Being shown into a small breakfast-room, I found myself in thepresence of an elderly gentleman--very grave, business-like, andrespectable-looking. I presented Mr. Hunsden's letter; he received mevery civilly. After a little desultory conversation he asked me if therewas anything in which his advice or experience could be of use. I said, "Yes, " and then proceeded to tell him that I was not a gentleman offortune, travelling for pleasure, but an ex-counting-house clerk, whowanted employment of some kind, and that immediately too. He repliedthat as a friend of Mr. Hunsden's he would be willing to assist me aswell as he could. After some meditation he named a place in a mercantilehouse at Liege, and another in a bookseller's shop at Louvain. 

"Clerk and shopman!" murmured I to myself. "No. " I shook my head. Ihad tried the high stool; I hated it; I believed there were otheroccupations that would suit me better; besides I did not wish to leaveBrussels. 

"I know of no place in Brussels, " answered Mr. Brown, "unless indeed youwere disposed to turn your attention to teaching. I am acquainted withthe director of a large establishment who is in want of a professor ofEnglish and Latin. "

I thought two minutes, then I seized the idea eagerly. 

"The very thing, sir!" said I. 

"But, " asked he, "do you understand French well enough to teach Belgianboys English?"

Fortunately I could answer this question in the affirmative;having studied French under a Frenchman, I could speak the languageintelligibly though not fluently. I could also read it well, and writeit decently. 

"Then, " pursued Mr. Brown, "I think I can promise you the place, forMonsieur Pelet will not refuse a professor recommended by me; but comehere again at five o'clock this afternoon, and I will introduce you tohim. "

The word "professor" struck me. "I am not a professor, " said I. 

"Oh, " returned Mr. Brown, "professor, here in Belgium, means a teacher, that is all. "

My conscience thus quieted, I thanked Mr. Brown, and, for the present, withdrew. This time I stepped out into the street with a relieved heart;the task I had imposed on myself for that day was executed. I might nowtake some hours of holiday. I felt free to look up. For the first timeI remarked the sparkling clearness of the air, the deep blue of the sky, the gay clean aspect of the white-washed or painted houses; I saw whata fine street was the Rue Royale, and, walking leisurely along its broadpavement, I continued to survey its stately hotels, till the palisades, the gates, and trees of the park appearing in sight, offered to my eye anew attraction. I remember, before entering the park, I stood awhile tocontemplate the statue of General Belliard, and then I advanced to thetop of the great staircase just beyond, and I looked down into a narrowback street, which I afterwards learnt was called the Rue d'Isabelle. I well recollect that my eye rested on the green door of a rather largehouse opposite, where, on a brass plate, was inscribed, "Pensionnat deDemoiselles. " Pensionnat! The word excited an uneasy sensation inmy mind; it seemed to speak of restraint. Some of the demoiselles, externats no doubt, were at that moment issuing from the door--I lookedfor a pretty face amongst them, but their close, little French bonnetshid their features; in a moment they were gone. 

I had traversed a good deal of Brussels before five o'clock arrived, but punctually as that hour struck I was again in the Rue Royale. Re-admitted to Mr. Brown's breakfast-room, I found him, as before, seated at the table, and he was not alone--a gentleman stood by thehearth. Two words of introduction designated him as my future master. "M. Pelet, Mr. Crimsworth; Mr. Crimsworth, M. Pelet" a bow on eachside finished the ceremony. I don't know what sort of a bow I made; anordinary one, I suppose, for I was in a tranquil, commonplace frame ofmind; I felt none of the agitation which had troubled my first interviewwith Edward Crimsworth. M. Pelet's bow was extremely polite, yet nottheatrical, scarcely French; he and I were presently seated opposite toeach other. In a pleasing voice, low, and, out of consideration to myforeign ears, very distinct and deliberate, M. Pelet intimated that hehad just been receiving from "le respectable M. Brown, " an account of myattainments and character, which relieved him from all scruple as tothe propriety of engaging me as professor of English and Latin inhis establishment; nevertheless, for form's sake, he would put a fewquestions to test; my powers. He did, and expressed in flattering termshis satisfaction at my answers. The subject of salary next came on; itwas fixed at one thousand francs per annum, besides board and lodging. "And in addition, " suggested M. Pelet, "as there will be some hoursin each day during which your services will not be required in myestablishment, you may, in time, obtain employment in other seminaries, and thus turn your vacant moments to profitable account. "

I thought this very kind, and indeed I found afterwards that the termson which M. Pelet had engaged me were really liberal for Brussels;instruction being extremely cheap there on account of the number ofteachers. It was further arranged that I should be installed in my newpost the very next day, after which M. Pelet and I parted. 

Well, and what was he like? and what were my impressions concerning him?He was a man of about forty years of age, of middle size, and ratheremaciated figure; his face was pale, his cheeks were sunk, and his eyeshollow; his features were pleasing and regular, they had a Frenchturn (for M. Pelet was no Fleming, but a Frenchman both by birthand parentage), yet the degree of harshness inseparable from Galliclineaments was, in his case, softened by a mild blue eye, and amelancholy, almost suffering, expression of countenance; his physiognomywas "fine et spirituelle. " I use two French words because they definebetter than any English terms the species of intelligence with which hisfeatures were imbued. He was altogether an interesting and prepossessingpersonage. I wondered only at the utter absence of all the ordinarycharacteristics of his profession, and almost feared he could not bestern and resolute enough for a schoolmaster. Externally at leastM. Pelet presented an absolute contrast to my late master, EdwardCrimsworth. 

Influenced by the impression I had received of his gentleness, I was agood deal surprised when, on arriving the next day at my new employer'shouse, and being admitted to a first view of what was to be thesphere of my future labours, namely the large, lofty, and well lightedschoolrooms, I beheld a numerous assemblage of pupils, boys of course, whose collective appearance showed all the signs of a full, flourishing, and well-disciplined seminary. As I traversed the classes in companywith M. Pelet, a profound silence reigned on all sides, and if by chancea murmur or a whisper arose, one glance from the pensive eye of thismost gentle pedagogue stilled it instantly. It was astonishing, Ithought, how so mild a check could prove so effectual. When I hadperambulated the length and breadth of the classes, M. Pelet turned andsaid to me--

"Would you object to taking the boys as they are, and testing theirproficiency in English?"

The proposal was unexpected. I had thought I should have been allowed atleast 3 days to prepare; but it is a bad omen to commence any careerby hesitation, so I just stepped to the professor's desk near which westood, and faced the circle of my pupils. I took a moment to collectmy thoughts, and likewise to frame in French the sentence by which Iproposed to open business. I made it as short as possible:--

"Messieurs, prenez vos livres de lecture. "

"Anglais ou Francais, monsieur?" demanded a thickset, moon-faced youngFlamand in a blouse. The answer was fortunately easy:--

"Anglais. "

I determined to give myself as little trouble as possible in thislesson; it would not do yet to trust my unpractised tongue with thedelivery of explanations; my accent and idiom would be too open to thecriticisms of the young gentlemen before me, relative to whom I feltalready it would be necessary at once to take up an advantageousposition, and I proceeded to employ means accordingly. 

"Commencez!" cried I, when they had all produced their books. Themoon-faced youth (by name Jules Vanderkelkov, as I afterwards learnt)took the first sentence. The "livre de lecture" was the "Vicar ofWakefield, " much used in foreign schools because it is supposed tocontain prime samples of conversational English; it might, however, have been a Runic scroll for any resemblance the words, as enunciated byJules, bore to the language in ordinary use amongst the natives of GreatBritain. My God! how he did snuffle, snort, and wheeze! All he said wassaid in his throat and nose, for it is thus the Flamands speak, butI heard him to the end of his paragraph without proffering a word ofcorrection, whereat he looked vastly self-complacent, convinced, no doubt, that he had acquitted himself like a real born and bred"Anglais. " In the same unmoved silence I listened to a dozen inrotation, and when the twelfth had concluded with splutter, hiss, andmumble, I solemnly laid down the book. 

"Arretez!" said I. There was a pause, during which I regarded them allwith a steady and somewhat stern gaze; a dog, if stared at hard enoughand long enough, will show symptoms of embarrassment, and so at lengthdid my bench of Belgians. Perceiving that some of the faces before mewere beginning to look sullen, and others ashamed, I slowly joined myhands, and ejaculated in a deep "voix de poitrine"--

"Comme c'est affreux!"

They looked at each other, pouted, coloured, swung their heels; theywere not pleased, I saw, but they were impressed, and in the wayI wished them to be. Having thus taken them down a peg in theirself-conceit, the next step was to raise myself in their estimation; nota very easy thing, considering that I hardly dared to speak for fear ofbetraying my own deficiencies. 

"Ecoutez, messieurs!" said I, and I endeavoured to throw into myaccents the compassionate tone of a superior being, who, touched by theextremity of the helplessness, which at first only excited his scorn, deigns at length to bestow aid. I then began at the very beginning ofthe "Vicar of Wakefield, " and read, in a slow, distinct voice, sometwenty pages, they all the while sitting mute and listening with fixedattention; by the time I had done nearly an hour had elapsed. I thenrose and said:--

"C'est assez pour aujourd'hui, messieurs; demain nous recommencerons, etj'espere que tout ira bien. "

With this oracular sentence I bowed, and in company with M. Peletquitted the school-room. 

"C'est bien! c'est tres bien!" said my principal as we entered hisparlour. "Je vois que monsieur a de l'adresse; cela, me plait, car, dansl'instruction, l'adresse fait tout autant que le savoir. "

From the parlour M. Pelet conducted me to my apartment, my "chambre, "as Monsieur said with a certain air of complacency. It was a very smallroom, with an excessively small bed, but M. Pelet gave me to understandthat I was to occupy it quite alone, which was of course a greatcomfort. Yet, though so limited in dimensions, it had two windows. Lightnot being taxed in Belgium, the people never grudge its admission intotheir houses; just here, however, this observation is not very APROPOS, for one of these windows was boarded up; the open windows looked intothe boys' playground. I glanced at the other, as wondering what aspectit would present if disencumbered of the boards. M. Pelet read, Isuppose, the expression of my eye; he explained:--

"La fenetre fermee donne sur un jardin appartenant a un pensionnatde demoiselles, " said he, "et les convenances exigent--enfin, vouscomprenez--n'est-ce pas, monsieur?"

"Oui, oui, " was my reply, and I looked of course quite satisfied; butwhen M. Pelet had retired and closed the door after him, the first thingI did was to scrutinize closely the nailed boards, hoping to findsome chink or crevice which I might enlarge, and so get a peep at theconsecrated ground. My researches were vain, for the boards were welljoined and strongly nailed. It is astonishing how disappointed I felt. Ithought it would have been so pleasant to have looked out upon agarden planted with flowers and trees, so amusing to have watched thedemoiselles at their play; to have studied female character in a varietyof phases, myself the while sheltered from view by a modest muslincurtain, whereas, owing doubtless to the absurd scruples of some oldduenna of a directress, I had now only the option of looking at a baregravelled court, with an enormous "pas de geant" in the middle, and themonotonous walls and windows of a boys' school-house round. Not onlythen, but many a time after, especially in moments of weariness andlow spirits, did I look with dissatisfied eyes on that most tantalizingboard, longing to tear it away and get a glimpse of the green regionwhich I imagined to lie beyond. I knew a tree grew close up to thewindow, for though there were as yet no leaves to rustle, I often heardat night the tapping of branches against the panes. In the daytime, when I listened attentively, I could hear, even through the boards, thevoices of the demoiselles in their hours of recreation, and, to speakthe honest truth, my sentimental reflections were occasionally a trifledisarranged by the not quite silvery, in fact the too often brazensounds, which, rising from the unseen paradise below, penetratedclamorously into my solitude. Not to mince matters, it really seemed tome a doubtful case whether the lungs of Mdlle. Reuter's girls or thoseof M. Pelet's boys were the strongest, and when it came to shriekingthe girls indisputably beat the boys hollow. I forgot to say, by-the-by, that Reuter was the name of the old lady who had had my window beardedup. I say old, for such I, of course, concluded her to be, judging fromher cautious, chaperon-like proceedings; besides, nobody ever spoke ofher as young. I remember I was very much amused when I first heard herChristian name; it was Zoraide--Mademoiselle Zoraide Reuter. But thecontinental nations do allow themselves vagaries in the choice of names, such as we sober English never run into. I think, indeed, we have toolimited a list to choose from. 

Meantime my path was gradually growing smooth before me. I, in afew weeks, conquered the teasing difficulties inseparable from thecommencement of almost every career. Ere long I had acquired as muchfacility in speaking French as set me at my ease with my pupils; andas I had encountered them on a right footing at the very beginning, andcontinued tenaciously to retain the advantage I had early gained, theynever attempted mutiny, which circumstance, all who are in any degreeacquainted with the ongoings of Belgian schools, and who know therelation in which professors and pupils too frequently stand towardseach other in those establishments, will consider an important anduncommon one. Before concluding this chapter I will say a word on thesystem I pursued with regard to my classes: my experience may possiblybe of use to others. 

It did not require very keen observation to detect the character of theyouth of Brabant, but it needed a certain degree of tact to adopt one'smeasures to their capacity. Their intellectual faculties were generallyweak, their animal propensities strong; thus there was at once animpotence and a kind of inert force in their natures; they were dull, but they were also singularly stubborn, heavy as lead and, like lead, most difficult to move. Such being the case, it would have been trulyabsurd to exact from them much in the way of mental exertion; havingshort memories, dense intelligence, feeble reflective powers, theyrecoiled with repugnance from any occupation that demanded close studyor deep thought. Had the abhorred effort been extorted from them byinjudicious and arbitrary measures on the part of the Professor, theywould have resisted as obstinately, as clamorously, as desperate swine;and though not brave singly, they were relentless acting EN MASSE. 

I understood that before my arrival in M. Pelet's establishment, thecombined insubordination of the pupils had effected the dismissal ofmore than one English master. It was necessary then to exact only themost moderate application from natures so little qualified to apply--toassist, in every practicable way, understandings so opaque andcontracted--to be ever gentle, considerate, yielding even, to a certainpoint, with dispositions so irrationally perverse; but, having reachedthat culminating point of indulgence, you must fix your foot, plant it, root it in rock--become immutable as the towers of Ste. Gudule; for astep--but half a step farther, and you would plunge headlong into thegulf of imbecility; there lodged, you would speedily receive proofsof Flemish gratitude and magnanimity in showers of Brabant saliva andhandfuls of Low Country mud. You might smooth to the utmost the path oflearning, remove every pebble from the track; but then you must finallyinsist with decision on the pupil taking your arm and allowing himselfto be led quietly along the prepared road. When I had brought down mylesson to the lowest level of my dullest pupil's capacity--when Ihad shown myself the mildest, the most tolerant of masters--a word ofimpertinence, a movement of disobedience, changed me at once intoa despot. I offered then but one alternative--submission andacknowledgment of error, or ignominious expulsion. This system answered, and my influence, by degrees, became established on a firm basis. "Theboy is father to the man, " it is said; and so I often thought whenlooked at my boys and remembered the political history of theirancestors. Pelet's school was merely an epitome of the Belgian nation. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

AND Pelet himself? How did I continue to like him? Oh, extremely well!Nothing could be more smooth, gentlemanlike, and even friendly, thanhis demeanour to me. I had to endure from him neither cold neglect, irritating interference, nor pretentious assumption of superiority. Ifear, however, two poor, hard-worked Belgian ushers in the establishmentcould not have said as much; to them the director's manner wasinvariably dry, stern, and cool. I believe he perceived once or twicethat I was a little shocked at the difference he made between them andme, and accounted for it by saying, with a quiet sarcastic smile--

"Ce ne sont que des Flamands--allez!"

And then he took his cigar gently from his lips and spat on the paintedfloor of the room in which we were sitting. Flamands certainly theywere, and both had the true Flamand physiognomy, where intellectualinferiority is marked in lines none can mistake; still they were men, and, in the main, honest men; and I could not see why their beingaboriginals of the flat, dull soil should serve as a pretext fortreating them with perpetual severity and contempt. This idea, ofinjustice somewhat poisoned the pleasure I might otherwise have derivedfrom Pelet's soft affable manner to myself. Certainly it was agreeable, when the day's work was over, to find one's employer an intelligentand cheerful companion; and if he was sometimes a little sarcasticand sometimes a little too insinuating, and if I did discover thathis mildness was more a matter of appearance than of reality--if I didoccasionally suspect the existence of flint or steel under an externalcovering of velvet--still we are none of us perfect; and weary as I wasof the atmosphere of brutality and insolence in which I had constantlylived at X----, I had no inclination now, on casting anchor in calmerregions, to institute at once a prying search after defects that werescrupulously withdrawn and carefully veiled from my view. I was willingto take Pelet for what he seemed--to believe him benevolent and friendlyuntil some untoward event should prove him otherwise. He was notmarried, and I soon perceived he had all a Frenchman's, all a Parisian'snotions about matrimony and women. I suspected a degree of laxity inhis code of morals, there was something so cold and BLASE in his tonewhenever he alluded to what he called "le beau sexe;" but he was toogentlemanlike to intrude topics I did not invite, and as he was reallyintelligent and really fond of intellectual subjects of discourse, heand I always found enough to talk about, without seeking themes in themire. I hated his fashion of mentioning love; I abhorred, from my soul, mere licentiousness. He felt the difference of our notions, and, bymutual consent, we kept off ground debateable. 

Pelet's house was kept and his kitchen managed by his mother, a realold Frenchwoman; she had been handsome--at least she told me so, and Istrove to believe her; she was now ugly, as only continental old womencan be; perhaps, though, her style of dress made her look uglier thanshe really was. Indoors she would go about without cap, her grey hairstrangely dishevelled; then, when at home, she seldom wore a gown--onlya shabby cotton camisole; shoes, too, were strangers to her feet, and inlieu of them she sported roomy slippers, trodden down at the heels. Onthe other hand, whenever it was her pleasure to appear abroad, as onSundays and fete-days, she would put on some very brilliant-coloureddress, usually of thin texture, a silk bonnet with a wreath of flowers, and a very fine shawl. She was not, in the main, an ill-natured oldwoman, but an incessant and most indiscreet talker; she kept chieflyin and about the kitchen, and seemed rather to avoid her son's augustpresence; of him, indeed, she evidently stood in awe. When he reprovedher, his reproofs were bitter and unsparing; but he seldom gave himselfthat trouble. 

Madame Pelet had her own society, her own circle of chosen visitors, whom, however, I seldom saw, as she generally entertained them in whatshe called her "cabinet, " a small den of a place adjoining the kitchen, and descending into it by one or two steps. On these steps, by-the-by, I have not unfrequently seen Madame Pelet seated with a trencher onher knee, engaged in the threefold employment of eating her dinner, gossiping with her favourite servant, the housemaid, and scolding herantagonist, the cook; she never dined, and seldom indeed took any mealwith her son; and as to showing her face at the boys' table, that wasquite out of the question. These details will sound very odd in Englishears, but Belgium is not England, and its ways are not our ways. 

Madame Pelet's habits of life, then, being taken into consideration, I was a good deal surprised when, one Thursday evening (Thursday wasalways a half-holiday), as I was sitting all alone in my apartment, correcting a huge pile of English and Latin exercises, a servanttapped at the door, and, on its being opened, presented Madame Pelet'scompliments, and she would be happy to see me to take my "gouter" (ameal which answers to our English "tea") with her in the dining-room. 

"Plait-il?" said I, for I thought I must have misunderstood, themessage and invitation were so unusual; the same words were repeated. Iaccepted, of course, and as I descended the stairs, I wondered whatwhim had entered the old lady's brain; her son was out--gone to pass theevening at the Salle of the Grande Harmonie or some other club of whichhe was a member. Just as I laid my hand on the handle of the dining-roomdoor, a queer idea glanced across my mind. 

"Surely she's not going to make love to me, " said I. "I've heard ofold Frenchwomen doing odd things in that line; and the gouter? Theygenerally begin such affairs with eating and drinking, I believe. "

There was a fearful dismay in this suggestion of my excited imagination, and if I had allowed myself time to dwell upon it, I should no doubthave cut there and then, rushed back to my chamber, and bolted myselfin; but whenever a danger or a horror is veiled with uncertainty, the primary wish of the mind is to ascertain first the naked truth, reserving the expedient of flight for the moment when its dreadanticipation shall be realized. I turned the door-handle, and in aninstant had crossed the fatal threshold, closed the door behind me, andstood in the presence of Madame Pelet. 

Gracious heavens! The first view of her seemed to confirm my worstapprehensions. There she sat, dressed out in a light green muslin gown, on her head a lace cap with flourishing red roses in the frill; hertable was carefully spread; there were fruit, cakes, and coffee, with abottle of something--I did not know what. Already the cold sweat startedon my brow, already I glanced back over my shoulder at the closeddoor, when, to my unspeakable relief, my eye, wandering mildly in thedirection of the stove, rested upon a second figure, seated in a largefauteuil beside it. This was a woman, too, and, moreover, an old woman, and as fat and as rubicund as Madame Pelet was meagre and yellow; herattire was likewise very fine, and spring flowers of different huescircled in a bright wreath the crown of her violet-coloured velvetbonnet. 

I had only time to make these general observations when Madame Pelet, coming forward with what she intended should be a graceful and elasticstep, thus accosted me:

"Monsieur is indeed most obliging to quit his books, his studies, at therequest of an insignificant person like me--will Monsieur complete hiskindness by allowing me to present him to my dear friend Madame Reuter, who resides in the neighbouring house--the young ladies' school. "

"Ah!" thought I, "I knew she was old, " and I bowed and took my seat. Madame Reuter placed herself at the table opposite to me. 

"How do you like Belgium, Monsieur?" asked she, in an accent of thebroadest Bruxellois. I could now well distinguish the difference betweenthe fine and pure Parisian utterance of M. Pelet, for instance, andthe guttural enunciation of the Flamands. I answered politely, and thenwondered how so coarse and clumsy an old woman as the one before meshould be at the head of a ladies' seminary, which I had always heardspoken of in terms of high commendation. In truth there was somethingto wonder at. Madame Reuter looked more like a joyous, free-living oldFlemish fermiere, or even a maitresse d'auberge, than a staid, grave, rigid directrice de pensionnat. In general the continental, or at leastthe Belgian old women permit themselves a licence of manners, speech, and aspect, such as our venerable granddames would recoil from asabsolutely disreputable, and Madame Reuter's jolly face bore evidencethat she was no exception to the rule of her country; there was atwinkle and leer in her left eye; her right she kept habitually halfshut, which I thought very odd indeed. After several vain attempts tocomprehend the motives of these two droll old creatures for inviting meto join them at their gouter, I at last fairly gave it up, and resigningmyself to inevitable mystification, I sat and looked first at one, thenat the other, taking care meantime to do justice to the confitures, cakes, and coffee, with which they amply supplied me. They, too, ate, and that with no delicate appetite, and having demolished a largeportion of the solids, they proposed a "petit verre. " I declined. Notso Mesdames Pelet and Reuter; each mixed herself what I thought rathera stiff tumbler of punch, and placing it on a stand near the stove, theydrew up their chairs to that convenience, and invited me to do the same. I obeyed; and being seated fairly between them, I was thus addressedfirst by Madame Pelet, then by Madame Reuter. 

"We will now speak of business, " said Madame Pelet, and she went on tomake an elaborate speech, which, being interpreted, was to the effectthat she had asked for the pleasure of my company that evening inorder to give her friend Madame Reuter an opportunity of broaching animportant proposal, which might turn out greatly to my advantage. 

"Pourvu que vous soyez sage, " said Madame Reuter, "et a vrai dire, vous en avez bien l'air. Take one drop of the punch" (or ponche, as shepronounced it); "it is an agreeable and wholesome beverage after a fullmeal. "

I bowed, but again declined it. She went on:

"I feel, " said she, after a solemn sip--"I feel profoundly theimportance of the commission with which my dear daughter has entrustedme, for you are aware, Monsieur, that it is my daughter who directs theestablishment in the next house?"

"Ah! I thought it was yourself, madame. " Though, indeed, at that momentI recollected that it was called Mademoiselle, not Madame Reuter'spensionnat. 

"I! Oh, no! I manage the house and look after the servants, as my friendMadame Pelet does for Monsieur her son--nothing more. Ah! you thought Igave lessons in class--did you?"

And she laughed loud and long, as though the idea tickled her fancyamazingly. 

"Madame is in the wrong to laugh, " I observed; "if she does not givelessons, I am sure it is not because she cannot;" and I whipped out awhite pocket-handkerchief and wafted it, with a French grace, past mynose, bowing at the name time. 

"Quel charmant jeune homme!" murmured Madame Pelet in a low voice. Madame Reuter, being less sentimental, as she was Flamand and notFrench, only laughed again. 

"You are a dangerous person, I fear, " said she; "if you can forgecompliments at that rate, Zoraide will positively be afraid of you; butif you are good, I will keep your secret, and not tell her how well youcan flatter. Now, listen what sort of a proposal she makes to you. Shehas heard that you are an excellent professor, and as she wishes to getthe very beet masters for her school (car Zoraide fait tout comme unereine, c'est une veritable maitresse-femme), she has commissioned me tostep over this afternoon, and sound Madame Pelet as to the possibilityof engaging you. Zoraide is a wary general; she never advances withoutfirst examining well her ground I don't think she would be pleased ifshe knew I had already disclosed her intentions to you; she did notorder me to go so far, but I thought there would be no harm in lettingyou into the secret, and Madame Pelet was of the same opinion. Takecare, however, you don't betray either of us to Zoraide--to mydaughter, I mean; she is so discreet and circumspect herself, she cannotunderstand that one should find a pleasure in gossiping a little--"

"C'est absolument comme mon fils!" cried Madame Pelet. 

"All the world is so changed since our girlhood!" rejoined the other:"young people have such old heads now. But to return, Monsieur. MadamePelet will mention the subject of your giving lessons in my daughter'sestablishment to her son, and he will speak to you; and then to-morrow, you will step over to our house, and ask to see my daughter, and youwill introduce the subject as if the first intimation of it had reachedyou from M. Pelet himself, and be sure you never mention my name, for Iwould not displease Zoraide on any account. 

"Bien! bien!" interrupted I--for all this chatter and circumlocutionbegan to bore me very much; "I will consult M. Pelet, and the thingshall be settled as you desire. Good evening, mesdames--I am infinitelyobliged to you. "

"Comment! vous vous en allez deja?" exclaimed Madame Pelet. 

"Prenez encore quelquechose, monsieur; une pomme cuite, des biscuits, encore une tasse de cafe?"

"Merci, merci, madame--au revoir. " And I backed at last out of theapartment. 

Having regained my own room, I set myself to turn over in my mindthe incident of the evening. It seemed a queer affair altogether, andqueerly managed; the two old women had made quite a little intricatemess of it; still I found that the uppermost feeling in my mind on thesubject was one of satisfaction. In the first place it would be a changeto give lessons in another seminary, and then to teach young ladieswould be an occupation so interesting--to be admitted at all into aladies' boarding-school would be an incident so new in my life. Besides, thought I, as I glanced at the boarded window, "I shall now at last seethe mysterious garden: I shall gaze both on the angels and their Eden. "

CHAPTER IX. 

M. PELET could not of course object to the proposal made by Mdlle. Reuter; permission to accept such additional employment, should itoffer, having formed an article of the terms on which he had engaged me. It was, therefore, arranged in the course of next day that I shouldbe at liberty to give lessons in Mdlle. Reuter's establishment fourafternoons in every week. 

When evening came I prepared to step over in order to seek a conferencewith Mademoiselle herself on the subject; I had not had time to pay thevisit before, having been all day closely occupied in class. I remembervery well that before quitting my chamber, I held a brief debate withmyself as to whether I should change my ordinary attire for somethingsmarter. At last I concluded it would be a waste of labour. "Doubtless, "thought I, "she is some stiff old maid; for though the daughter ofMadame Reuter, she may well number upwards of forty winters; besides, ifit were otherwise, if she be both young and pretty, I am not handsome, and no dressing can make me so, therefore I'll go as I am. " And offI started, cursorily glancing sideways as I passed the toilet-table, surmounted by a looking-glass: a thin irregular face I saw, with sunk, dark eyes under a large, square forehead, complexion destitute of bloomor attraction; something young, but not youthful, no object to win alady's love, no butt for the shafts of Cupid. 

I was soon at the entrance of the pensionnat, in a moment I had pulledthe bell; in another moment the door was opened, and within appeared apassage paved alternately with black and white marble; the walls werepainted in imitation of marble also; and at the far end opened a glassdoor, through which I saw shrubs and a grass-plat, looking pleasant inthe sunshine of the mild spring evening-for it was now the middle ofApril. 

This, then, was my first glimpse of the garden; but I had not time tolook long, the portress, after having answered in the affirmativemy question as to whether her mistress was at home, opened thefolding-doors of a room to the left, and having ushered me in, closedthem behind me. I found myself in a salon with a very well-painted, highly varnished floor; chairs and sofas covered with white draperies, a green porcelain stove, walls hung with pictures in gilt frames, a giltpendule and other ornaments on the mantelpiece, a large lustre pendentfrom the centre of the ceiling, mirrors, consoles, muslin curtains, anda handsome centre table completed the inventory of furniture. All lookedextremely clean and glittering, but the general effect would have beensomewhat chilling had not a second large pair of folding-doors, standingwide open, and disclosing another and smaller salon, more snuglyfurnished, offered some relief to the eye. This room was carpeted, andtherein was a piano, a couch, a chiffonniere--above all, it containeda lofty window with a crimson curtain, which, being undrawn, affordedanother glimpse of the garden, through the large, clear panes, roundwhich some leaves of ivy, some tendrils of vine were trained. 

"Monsieur Creemsvort, n'est ce pas?" said a voice behind me; and, starting involuntarily, I turned. I had been so taken up with thecontemplation of the pretty little salon that I had not noticed theentrance of a person into the larger room. It was, however, Mdlle. Reuter who now addressed me, and stood close beside me; and when I hadbowed with instantaneously recovered sang-froid--for I am not easilyembarrassed--I commenced the conversation by remarking on the pleasantaspect of her little cabinet, and the advantage she had over M. Pelet inpossessing a garden. 

"Yes, " she said, "she often thought so;" and added, "it is my garden, monsieur, which makes me retain this house, otherwise I should probablyhave removed to larger and more commodious premises long since; but yousee I could not take my garden with me, and I should scarcely find oneso large and pleasant anywhere else in town. "

I approved her judgment. 

"But you have not seen it yet, " said she, rising; "come to the windowand take a better view. " I followed her; she opened the sash, andleaning out I saw in full the enclosed demesne which had hitherto beento me an unknown region. It was a long, not very broad strip of culturedground, with an alley bordered by enormous old fruit trees down themiddle; there was a sort of lawn, a parterre of rose-trees, someflower-borders, and, on the far side, a thickly planted copse of lilacs, laburnums, and acacias. It looked pleasant, to me--very pleasant, solong a time had elapsed since I had seen a garden of any sort. But itwas not only on Mdlle. Reuter's garden that my eyes dwelt; when I hadtaken a view of her well-trimmed beds and budding shrubberies, I allowedmy glance to come back to herself, nor did I hastily withdraw it. 

I had thought to see a tall, meagre, yellow, conventual image in black, with a close white cap, bandaged under the chin like a nun's head-gear;whereas, there stood by me a little and roundly formed woman, who mightindeed be older than I, but was still young; she could not, I thought, be more than six or seven and twenty; she was as fair as a fairEnglishwoman; she had no cap; her hair was nut-brown, and she wore itin curls; pretty her features were not, nor very soft, nor very regular, but neither were they in any degree plain, and I already saw causeto deem them expressive. What was their predominant cast? Was itsagacity?--sense? Yes, I thought so; but I could scarcely as yet besure. I discovered, however, that there was a certain serenity of eye, and freshness of complexion, most pleasing to behold. The colour on hercheek was like the bloom on a good apple, which is as sound at the coreas it is red on the rind. 

Mdlle. Reuter and I entered upon business. She said she was notabsolutely certain of the wisdom of the step she was about to take, because I was so young, and parents might possibly object to a professorlike me for their daughters: "But it is often well to act on one's ownjudgment, " said she, "and to lead parents, rather than be led by them. The fitness of a professor is not a matter of age; and, from what I haveheard, and from what I observe myself, I would much rather trust youthan M. Ledru, the music-master, who is a married man of near fifty. "

I remarked that I hoped she would find me worthy of her good opinion;that if I knew myself, I was incapable of betraying any confidencereposed in me. "Du reste, " said she, "the surveillance will be strictlyattended to. " And then she proceeded to discuss the subject of terms. She was very cautious, quite on her guard; she did not absolutelybargain, but she warily sounded me to find out what my expectationsmight be; and when she could not get me to name a sum, she reasoned andreasoned with a fluent yet quiet circumlocution of speech, and at lastnailed me down to five hundred francs per annum--not too much, but Iagreed. Before the negotiation was completed, it began to grow a littledusk. I did not hasten it, for I liked well enough to sit and hearher talk; I was amused with the sort of business talent she displayed. Edward could not have shown himself more practical, though he might haveevinced more coarseness and urgency; and then she had so many reasons, so many explanations; and, after all, she succeeded in proving herselfquite disinterested and even liberal. At last she concluded, she couldsay no more, because, as I acquiesced in all things, there was nofurther ground for the exercise of her parts of speech. I was obliged torise. I would rather have sat a little longer; what had I to return tobut my small empty room? And my eyes had a pleasure in looking atMdlle. Reuter, especially now, when the twilight softened her features alittle, and, in the doubtful dusk, I could fancy her forehead as openas it was really elevated, her mouth touched with turns of sweetnessas well as defined in lines of sense. When I rose to go, I held outmy hand, on purpose, though I knew it was contrary to the etiquette offoreign habits; she smiled, and said--

"Ah! c'est comme tous les Anglais, " but gave me her hand very kindly. 

"It is the privilege of my country, Mademoiselle, " said I; "and, remember, I shall always claim it. "

She laughed a little, quite good-naturedly, and with the sort oftranquillity obvious in all she did--a tranquillity which soothed andsuited me singularly, at least I thought so that evening. Brusselsseemed a very pleasant place to me when I got out again into the street, and it appeared as if some cheerful, eventful, upward-tending careerwere even then opening to me, on that selfsame mild, still April night. So impressionable a being is man, or at least such a man as I was inthose days. 

CHAPTER X. 

NEXT day the morning hours seemed to pass very slowly at M. Pelet's; Iwanted the afternoon to come that I might go again to the neighbouringpensionnat and give my first lesson within its pleasant precincts; forpleasant they appeared to me. At noon the hour of recreation arrived; atone o'clock we had lunch; this got on the time, and at last St. Gudule'sdeep bell, tolling slowly two, marked the moment for which I had beenwaiting. 

At the foot of the narrow back-stairs that descended from my room, I metM. Pelet. 

"Comme vous avez l'air rayonnant!" said he. "Je ne vous ai jamais vuaussi 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 bienjeune--trop jeune pour le role que vous allez jouer; il faut prendregarde--savez-vous?"

"Mais quel danger y a-t-il?"

"Je n'en sais rien--ne vous laissez pas aller a de vivesimpressions--voila tout. "

I laughed: a sentiment of exquisite pleasure played over my nerves atthe thought that "vives impressions" were likely to be created; it wasthe deadness, the sameness of life's daily ongoings that had hithertobeen my bane; my blouse-clad "eleves" in the boys' seminary neverstirred in me any "vives impressions" except it might be occasionallysome of anger. I broke from M. Pelet, and as I strode down the passagehe followed me with one of his laughs--a very French, rakish, mockingsound. 

Again I stood at the neighbouring door, and soon was re-admitted intothe cheerful passage with its clear dove-colour imitation marble walls. I followed the portress, and descending a step, and making a turn, Ifound myself in a sort of corridor; a side-door opened, Mdlle. Reuter'slittle figure, as graceful as it was plump, appeared. I could now seeher dress in full daylight; a neat, simple mousseline-laine gown fittedher compact round shape to perfection--delicate little collar andmanchettes of lace, trim Parisian brodequins showed her neck, wrists, and feet, to complete advantage; but how grave was her face as shecame suddenly upon me! Solicitude and business were in her eye--on herforehead; she looked almost stern. Her "Bon jour, monsieur, " was quitepolite, but so orderly, so commonplace, it spread directly a cool, damptowel over my "vives impressions. " The servant turned back when hermistress appeared, and I walked slowly along the corridor, side by sidewith 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, forthose are the easiest forms of communicating instruction in a foreignlanguage; and, at the first, a master naturally feels a littleunsettled. "

She was quite right, as I had found from experience; it only remainedfor me to acquiesce. We proceeded now in silence. The corridorterminated in a hall, large, lofty, and square; a glass door on one sideshowed within a long narrow refectory, with tables, an armoire, andtwo lamps; it was empty; large glass doors, in front, opened on theplayground and garden; a broad staircase ascended spirally on theopposite 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 ofuprising greeted our entrance; without looking to the right or left, Iwalked straight up the lane between two sets of benches and desks, and took possession of the empty chair and isolated desk raised on anestrade, of one step high, so as to command one division; the otherdivision being under the surveillance of a maitresse similarly elevated. At the back of the estrade, and attached to a moveable partitiondividing this schoolroom from another beyond, was a large tableau ofwood painted black and varnished; a thick crayon of white chalk lay onmy desk for the convenience of elucidating any grammatical or verbalobscurity which might occur in my lessons by writing it upon thetableau; a wet sponge appeared beside the chalk, to enable me to effacethe marks when they had served the purpose intended. 

I carefully and deliberately made these observations before allowingmyself to take one glance at the benches before me; having handled thecrayon, looked back at the tableau, fingered the sponge in order toascertain that it was in a right state of moisture, I found myself coolenough to admit of looking calmly up and gazing deliberately round me. 

And first I observed that Mdlle. Reuter had already glided away, shewas nowhere visible; a maitresse or teacher, the one who occupied thecorresponding 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 onlysee that she was of a thin bony figure and rather tallowy complexion, and that her attitude, as she sat, partook equally of listlessness andaffectation. More obvious, more prominent, shone on by the full light ofthe large window, were the occupants of the benches just before me, ofwhom some were girls of fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, some young womenfrom eighteen (as it appeared to me) up to twenty; the most modestattire, the simplest fashion of wearing the hair, were apparent in all;and good features, ruddy, blooming complexions, large and brillianteyes, forms full, even to solidity, seemed to abound. I did not bearthe first view like a stoic; I was dazzled, my eyes fell, and in a voicesomewhat too low I murmured--

"Prenez vos cahiers de dictee, mesdemoiselles. "

Not so had I bid the boys at Pelet's take their reading-books. Arustle followed, and an opening of desks; behind the lifted lids whichmomentarily screened the heads bent down to search for exercise-books, Iheard 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, thewhisperers, and I did not scruple to take a very steady look at them asthey emerged from their temporary eclipse. It is astonishing what easeand courage their little phrases of flippancy had given me; the idea bywhich I had been awed was that the youthful beings before me, with theirdark nun-like robes and softly braided hair, were a kind of half-angels. The light titter, the giddy whisper, had already in some measurerelieved my mind of that fond and oppressive fancy. 

The three I allude to were just in front, within half a yard of myestrade, and were among the most womanly-looking present. Their namesI knew afterwards, and may as well mention now; they were Eulalie, Hortense, Caroline. Eulalie was tall, and very finely shaped: she wasfair, and her features were those of a Low Country Madonna; many a"figure de Vierge" have I seen in Dutch pictures exactly resemblinghers; there were no angles in her shape or in her face, all was curveand roundness--neither thought, sentiment, nor passion disturbed by lineor flush the equality of her pale, clear skin; her noble bust heavedwith her regular breathing, her eyes moved a little--by these evidencesof life alone could I have distinguished her from some large handsomefigure moulded in wax. Hortense was of middle size and stout, herform was ungraceful, her face striking, more alive and brilliant thanEulalie's, her hair was dark brown, her complexion richly coloured;there were frolic and mischief in her eye: consistency and good senseshe 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 olivecomplexion, clear as to the face and sallow about the neck, formed inher that assemblage of points whose union many persons regard as theperfection of beauty. How, with the tintless pallor of her skin and theclassic straightness of her lineaments, she managed to look sensual, Idon't know. I think her lips and eyes contrived the affair betweenthem, and the result left no uncertainty on the beholder's mind. She wassensual now, and in ten years' time she would be coarse--promise plainwas written in her face of much future folly. 

If I looked at these girls with little scruple, they looked at mewith still less. Eulalie raised her unmoved eye to mine, and seemed toexpect, passively but securely, an impromptu tribute to her majesticcharms. Hortense regarded me boldly, and giggled at the same time, whileshe 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 hairover her rolling black eyes; parting her lips, as full as those of ahot-blooded Maroon, she showed her well-set teeth sparkling betweenthem, and treated me at the same time to a smile "de sa facon. "Beautiful as Pauline Borghese, she looked at the moment scarcely purerthan Lucrece de Borgia. Caroline was of noble family. I heard herlady-mother's character afterwards, and then I ceased to wonder at theprecocious accomplishments of the daughter. These three, I at once saw, deemed themselves the queens of the school, and conceived that by theirsplendour they threw all the rest into the shade. In less than fiveminutes they had thus revealed to me their characters, and in less thanfive minutes I had buckled on a breast-plate of steely indifference, andlet down a visor of impassible austerity. 

"Take your pens and commence writing, " said I, in as dry and trite avoice as if I had been addressing only Jules Vanderkelkov and Co. 

The dictee now commenced. My three belles interrupted me perpetuallywith little silly questions and uncalled-for remarks, to some of which Imade no answer, and to others replied very quietly and briefly. "Commentdit-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 thefirst time, ejaculated--

"Silence, mesdemoiselles!"

No silence followed--on the contrary, the three ladies in front began totalk 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 theclass; it was necessary to take prompt measures. 

"Donnez-moi votre cahier, " said I to Eulalie in an abrupt tone; andbending 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 ofthe other division, and whom I had remarked as being at once the ugliestand the most attentive in the room; she rose up, walked over to me, anddelivered her book with a grave, modest curtsey. I glanced over thetwo dictations; Eulalie's was slurred, blotted, and full of sillymistakes--Sylvie's (such was the name of the ugly little girl) wasclearly written, it contained no error against sense, and but fewfaults of orthography. I coolly read aloud both exercises, marking thefaults--then I looked at Eulalie:

"C'est honteux!" said I, and I deliberately tore her dictation in fourparts, and presented her with the fragments. I returned Sylvie her bookwith 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 flirtationof the first bench were exchanged for a taciturn sullenness, much moreconvenient to me, and the rest of my lesson passed without interruption. 

A bell clanging out in the yard announced the moment for the cessationof school labours. I heard our own bell at the same time, and that of acertain public college immediately after. Order dissolved instantly; upstarted every pupil, I hastened to seize my hat, bow to the maitresse, and quit the room before the tide of externats should pour from theinner class, where I knew near a hundred were prisoned, and whose risingtumult 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 ofthe side room from whence she had issued on my arrival; it was aSALLE-A-MANGER, as appeared from the beaufet and the armoire vitree, filled with glass and china, which formed part of its furniture. Ere shehad closed the door on me and herself, the corridor was already filledwith day-pupils, tearing down their cloaks, bonnets, and cabas fromthe wooden pegs on which they were suspended; the shrill voice of amaitresse was heard at intervals vainly endeavouring to enforce somesort of order; vainly, I say: discipline there was none in these roughranks, and yet this was considered one of the best-conducted schools inBrussels. 

"Well, you have given your first lesson, " began Mdlle. Reuter in themost calm, equable voice, as though quite unconscious of the chaos fromwhich we were separated only by a single wall. 

"Were you satisfied with your pupils, or did any circumstance in theirconduct give you cause for complaint? Conceal nothing from me, repose inme entire confidence. "

Happily, I felt in myself complete power to manage my pupils withoutaid; the enchantment, the golden haze which had dazzled my perspicuityat first, had been a good deal dissipated. I cannot say I was chagrinedor downcast by the contrast which the reality of a pensionnat dedemoiselles presented to my vague ideal of the same community; I wasonly enlightened and amused; consequently, I felt in no disposition tocomplain to Mdlle. Reuter, and I received her considerate invitation toconfidence 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 toquestion me; but her eye--not large, not brilliant, not melting, orkindling, but astute, penetrating, practical, showed she was even withme; it let out a momentary gleam, which said plainly, "Be as close asyou like, I am not dependent on your candour; what you would conceal Ialready know. "

By a transition so quiet as to be scarcely perceptible, the directress'smanner changed; the anxious business-air passed from her face, and shebegan chatting about the weather and the town, and asking in neighbourlywise after M. And Madame Pelet. I answered all her little questions; sheprolonged her talk, I went on following its many little windings; shesat 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 thusdetaining me. Her mere words could have afforded no clue to thisaim, but her countenance aided; while her lips uttered only affablecommonplaces, her eyes reverted continually to my face. Her glances werenot 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 wassearching for salient points, and weak; points, and eccentric points;she was applying now this test, now that, hoping in the end to find somechink, some niche, where she could put in her little firm foot and standupon my neck--mistress of my nature, Do not mistake me, reader, it wasno amorous influence she wished to gain--at that time it was only thepower of the politician to which she aspired; I was now installed as aprofessor in her establishment, and she wanted to know where her mindwas superior to mine--by what feeling or opinion she could lead me. 

I enjoyed the game much, and did not hasten its conclusion; sometimes Igave her hopes, beginning a sentence rather weakly, when her shrewd eyewould light up--she thought she had me; having led her a little way, Idelighted to turn round and finish with sound, hard sense, whereat hercountenance would fall. At last a servant entered to announce dinner;the conflict being thus necessarily terminated, we parted without havinggained any advantage on either side: Mdlle. Reuter had not even givenme an opportunity of attacking her with feeling, and I had managed tobaffle her little schemes of craft. It was a regular drawn battle. Iagain held out my hand when I left the room, she gave me hers; it was asmall and white hand, but how cool! I met her eye too in full--obligingher to give me a straightforward look; this last test went againstme: it left her as it found her--moderate, temperate, tranquil; me itdisappointed. 

"I am growing wiser, " thought I, as I walked back to M. Pelet's. "Lookat this little woman; is she like the women of novelists and romancers?To read of female character as depicted in Poetry and Fiction, one wouldthink it was made up of sentiment, either for good or bad--here isa specimen, and a most sensible and respectable specimen, too, whosestaple ingredient is abstract reason. No Talleyrand was ever morepassionless than Zoraide Reuter!" So I thought then; I foundafterwards that blunt susceptibilities are very consistent with strongpropensities. 

CHAPTER XI. 

I HAD indeed had a very long talk with the crafty little politician, andon regaining my quarters, I found that dinner was half over. To be lateat meals was against a standing rule of the establishment, and had itbeen one of the Flemish ushers who thus entered after the removal of thesoup and the commencement of the first course, M. Pelet would probablyhave greeted him with a public rebuke, and would certainly have mulctedhim both of soup and fish; as it was, that polite though partialgentleman only shook his head, and as I took my place, unrolled mynapkin, and said my heretical grace to myself, he civilly despatched aservant to the kitchen, to bring me a plate of "puree aux carottes"(for this was a maigre-day), and before sending away the first course, reserved for me a portion of the stock-fish of which it consisted. Dinner being over, the boys rushed out for their evening play; Kint andVandam (the two ushers) of course followed them. Poor fellows! if theyhad not looked so very heavy, so very soulless, so very indifferent toall things in heaven above or in the earth beneath, I could have pitiedthem greatly for the obligation they were under to trail after thoserough lads everywhere and at all times; even as it was, I felt disposedto scout myself as a privileged prig when I turned to ascend to mychamber, sure to find there, if not enjoyment, at least liberty; butthis evening (as had often happened before) I was to be still fartherdistinguished. 

"Eh bien, mauvais sujet!" said the voice of M. Pelet behind me, as Iset my foot on the first step of the stair, "ou allez-vous? Venez a lasalle-a-manger, que je vous gronde un peu. "

"I beg pardon, monsieur, " said I, as I followed him to his privatesitting-room, "for having returned so late--it was not my fault. "

"That is just what I want to know, " rejoined M. Pelet, as he ushered meinto the comfortable parlour with a good wood-fire--for the stove hadnow been removed for the season. Having rung the bell he ordered "Coffeefor two, " and presently he and I were seated, almost in English comfort, one on each side of the hearth, a little round table between us, witha coffee-pot, a sugar-basin, and two large white china cups. WhileM. Pelet employed himself in choosing a cigar from a box, my thoughtsreverted to the two outcast ushers, whose voices I could hear even nowcrying hoarsely for order in the playground. 

"C'est une grande responsabilite, que la surveillance, " observed I. 

"Plait-il?" dit M. Pelet. 

I remarked that I thought Messieurs Vandam and Kint must sometimes be alittle fatigued with their labours. 

"Des betes de somme, --des betes de somme, " murmured scornfully thedirector. Meantime I offered him his cup of coffee. 

"Servez-vous mon garcon, " said he blandly, when I had put a couple ofhuge lumps of continental sugar into his cup. "And now tell me why youstayed so long at Mdlle. Reuter's. I know that lessons conclude, in herestablishment as in mine, at four o'clock, and when you returned it waspast five. "

"Mdlle. Wished to speak with me, monsieur. "

"Indeed! on what subject? if one may ask. "

"Mademoiselle talked about nothing, monsieur. "

"A fertile topic! and did she discourse thereon in the schoolroom, before the pupils?"

"No; like you, monsieur, she asked me to walk into her parlour. "

"And Madame Reuter--the old duenna--my mother's gossip, was there, ofcourse?"

"No, monsieur; I had the honour of being quite alone with mademoiselle. "

"C'est joli--cela, " observed M. Pelet, and he smiled and looked into thefire. 

"Honi soit qui mal y pense, " murmured I, significantly. 

"Je connais un peu ma petite voisine--voyez-vous. "

"In that case, monsieur will be able to aid me in finding out what wasmademoiselle's reason for making me sit before her sofa one mortal hour, listening to the most copious and fluent dissertation on the merestfrivolities. "

"She was sounding your character. "

"I thought so, monsieur. "

"Did she find out your weak point?"

"What is my weak point?"

"Why, the sentimental. Any woman sinking her shaft deep enough, willat last reach a fathomless spring of sensibility in thy breast, Crimsworth. "

I felt the blood stir about my heart and rise warm to my cheek. 

"Some women might, monsieur. "

"Is Mdlle. Reuter of the number? Come, speak frankly, mon fils; elle estencore jeune, plus agee que toi peut-etre, mais juste asset pour unirla tendresse d'une petite maman a l'amour d'une epouse devouee; n'est-cepas que cela t'irait superieurement?"

"No, monsieur; I should like my wife to be my wife, and not half mymother. "

"She is then a little too old for you?"

"No, monsieur, not a day too old if she suited me in other things. "

"In what does she not suit you, William? She is personally agreeable, isshe not?"

"Very; her hair and complexion are just what I admire; and her turn ofform, though quite Belgian, is full of grace. "

"Bravo! and her face? her features? How do you like them?"

"A little harsh, especially her mouth. "

"Ah, yes! her mouth, " said M. Pelet, and he chuckled inwardly. "There ischaracter about her mouth--firmness--but she has a very pleasant smile;don't you think so?"

"Rather crafty. "

"True, but that expression of craft is owing to her eyebrows; have youremarked her eyebrows?"

I answered that I had not. 

"You have not seen her looking down then?" said he. 

"No. "

"It is a treat, notwithstanding. Observe her when she has some knitting, or some other woman's work in hand, and sits the image of peace, calmlyintent on her needles and her silk, some discussion meantime going onaround her, in the course of which peculiarities of character are beingdeveloped, or important interests canvassed; she takes no part in it;her humble, feminine mind is wholly with her knitting; none of herfeatures move; she neither presumes to smile approval, nor frowndisapprobation; her little hands assiduously ply their unpretendingtask; if she can only get this purse finished, or this bonnet-greccompleted, it is enough for her. If gentlemen approach her chair, adeeper quiescence, a meeker modesty settles on her features, and clothesher general mien; observe then her eyebrows, et dites-moi s'il n'y a pasdu chat dans l'un et du renard dans l'autre. "

"I will take careful notice the first opportunity, " said I. 

"And then, " continued M. Pelet, "the eyelid will flicker, thelight-coloured lashes be lifted a second, and a blue eye, glancing outfrom under the screen, will take its brief, sly, searching survey, andretreat again. "

I smiled, and so did Pelet, and after a few minutes' silence, I asked:

"Will she ever marry, do you think?"

"Marry! Will birds pair? Of course it is both her intention andresolution to marry when she finds a suitable match, and no one isbetter aware than herself of the sort of impression she is capableof producing; no one likes better to captivate in a quiet way. I ammistaken if she will not yet leave the print of her stealing steps onthy heart, Crimsworth. "

"Of her steps? Confound it, no! My heart is not a plank to be walkedon. "

"But the soft touch of a patte de velours will do it no harm. "

"She offers me no patte de velours; she is all form and reserve withme. "

"That to begin with; let respect be the foundation, affection the firstfloor, love the superstructure; Mdlle. Reuter is a skilful architect. "

"And interest, M. Pelet--interest. Will not mademoiselle consider thatpoint?"

"Yes, yes, no doubt; it will be the cement between every stone. And nowwe have discussed the directress, what of the pupils? N'y-a-t-il pas debelles etudes parmi ces jeunes tetes?"

"Studies of character? Yes; curious ones, at least, I imagine; but onecannot divine much from a first interview. "

"Ah, you affect discretion; but tell me now, were you not a littleabashed before these blooming young creatures?

"At first, yes; but I rallied and got through with all due sang-froid. "

"I don't believe you. "

"It is true, notwithstanding. At first I thought them angels, but theydid not leave me long under that delusion; three of the eldest andhandsomest undertook the task of setting me right, and they managedso cleverly that in five minutes I knew them, at least, for what theywere--three arrant coquettes. "

"Je les connais!" exclaimed M. Pelet. "Elles sont toujours au premierrang a l'eglise et a la promenade; une blonde superbe, une jolieespiegle, une belle brune. "

"Exactly. "

"Lovely creatures all of them--heads for artists; what a group theywould make, taken together! Eulalie (I know their names), with hersmooth braided hair and calm ivory brow. Hortense, with her rich chesnutlocks so luxuriantly knotted, plaited, twisted, as if she did not knowhow to dispose of all their abundance, with her vermilion lips, damaskcheek, and roguish laughing eye. And Caroline de Blemont! Ah, there isbeauty! beauty in perfection. What a cloud of sable curls about the faceof a houri! What fascinating lips! What glorious black eyes! Your Byronwould have worshipped her, and you--you cold, frigid islander!--youplayed the austere, the insensible in the presence of an Aphrodite soexquisite?"

I might have laughed at the director's enthusiasm had I believedit real, but there was something in his tone which indicated got-upraptures. I felt he was only affecting fervour in order to put me off myguard, to induce me to come out in return, so I scarcely even smiled. Hewent on:

"Confess, William, do not the mere good looks of Zoraide Reuter appeardowdyish and commonplace compared with the splendid charms of some ofher pupils?"

The question discomposed me, but I now felt plainly that my principalwas endeavouring (for reasons best known to himself--at that time Icould not fathom them) to excite ideas and wishes in my mind alien towhat was right and honourable. The iniquity of the instigation provedits antidote, and when he further added:--

"Each of those three beautiful girls will have a handsome fortune; andwith a little address, a gentlemanlike, intelligent young fellow likeyou might make himself master of the hand, heart, and purse of any oneof the trio. "

I replied by a look and an interrogative "Monsieur?" which startled him. 

He laughed a forced laugh, affirmed that he had only been joking, anddemanded whether I could possibly have thought him in earnest. Just thenthe bell rang; the play-hour was over; it was an evening on which M. Pelet was accustomed to read passages from the drama and the belleslettres to his pupils. He did not wait for my answer, but rising, leftthe room, humming as he went some gay strain of Beranger's. 

CHAPTER XII. 

DAILY, as I continued my attendance at the seminary of Mdlle. Reuter, did I find fresh occasions to compare the ideal with the real. Whathad I known of female character previously to my arrival at Brussels?Precious little. And what was my notion of it? Something vague, slight, gauzy, glittering; now when I came in contact with it I found it to bea palpable substance enough; very hard too sometimes, and often heavy;there was metal in it, both lead and iron. 

Let the idealists, the dreamers about earthly angel and human flowers, just look here while I open my portfolio and show them a sketch ortwo, pencilled after nature. I took these sketches in the second-classschoolroom of Mdlle. Reuter's establishment, where about a hundredspecimens of the genus "jeune fille" collected together, offered afertile variety of subject. A miscellaneous assortment they were, differing both in caste and country; as I sat on my estrade and glancedover the long range of desks, I had under my eye French, English, Belgians, Austrians, and Prussians. The majority belonged to the classbourgeois; but there were many countesses, there were the daughters oftwo generals and of several colonels, captains, and government EMPLOYES;these ladies sat side by side with young females destined to bedemoiselles de magasins, and with some Flamandes, genuine aborigines ofthe country. In dress all were nearly similar, and in manners there wassmall difference; exceptions there were to the general rule, but themajority gave the tone to the establishment, and that tone was rough, boisterous, masked by a point-blank disregard of all forbearance towardseach other or their teachers; an eager pursuit by each individual of herown interest and convenience; and a coarse indifference to the interestand convenience of every one else. Most of them could lie with audacitywhen it appeared advantageous to do so. All understood the art ofspeaking fair when a point was to be gained, and could with consummateskill and at a moment's notice turn the cold shoulder the instantcivility ceased to be profitable. Very little open quarrelling ever tookplace amongst them; but backbiting and talebearing were universal. Closefriendships were forbidden by the rules of the school, and no one girlseemed to cultivate more regard for another than was just necessary tosecure a companion when solitude would have been irksome. They were eachand all supposed to have been reared in utter unconsciousness of vice. The precautions used to keep them ignorant, if not innocent, wereinnumerable. How was it, then, that scarcely one of those girls havingattained the age of fourteen could look a man in the face with modestyand propriety? An air of bold, impudent flirtation, or a loose, sillyleer, was sure to answer the most ordinary glance from a masculine eye. I know nothing of the arcana of the Roman Catholic religion, and Iam not a bigot in matters of theology, but I suspect the root of thisprecocious impurity, so obvious, so general in Popish countries, is tobe found in the discipline, if not the doctrines of the Church of Rome. I record what I have seen: these girls belonged to what are called therespectable ranks of society; they had all been carefully brought up, yet was the mass of them mentally depraved. So much for the generalview: now for one or two selected specimens. 

The first picture is a full length of Aurelia Koslow, a German fraulein, or rather a half-breed between German and Russian. She is eighteen yearsof age, and has been sent to Brussels to finish her education; she isof middle size, stiffly made, body long, legs short, bust much developedbut not compactly moulded, waist disproportionately compressed by aninhumanly braced corset, dress carefully arranged, large feet torturedinto small bottines, head small, hair smoothed, braided, oiled, andgummed to perfection; very low forehead, very diminutive and vindictivegrey eyes, somewhat Tartar features, rather flat nose, rather high-cheekbones, yet the ensemble not positively ugly; tolerably good complexion. So much for person. As to mind, deplorably ignorant and ill-informed:incapable of writing or speaking correctly even German, her nativetongue, a dunce in French, and her attempts at learning English a merefarce, yet she has been at school twelve years; but as she invariablygets her exercises, of every description, done by a fellow pupil, andreads her lessons off a book; concealed in her lap, it is not wonderfulthat her progress has been so snail-like. I do not know what Aurelia'sdaily habits of life are, because I have not the opportunity ofobserving her at all times; but from what I see of the state of herdesk, books, and papers, I should say she is slovenly and even dirty;her outward dress, as I have said, is well attended to, but in passingbehind her bench, I have remarked that her neck is gray for want ofwashing, and her hair, so glossy with gum and grease, is not such asone feels tempted to pass the hand over, much less to run the fingersthrough. Aurelia's conduct in class, at least when I am present, issomething extraordinary, considered as an index of girlish innocence. The moment I enter the room, she nudges her next neighbour and indulgesin a half-suppressed laugh. As I take my seat on the estrade, shefixes her eye on me; she seems resolved to attract, and, if possible, monopolize my notice: to this end she launches at me all sorts of looks, languishing, provoking, leering, laughing. As I am found quite proofagainst this sort of artillery--for we scorn what, unasked, is lavishlyoffered--she has recourse to the expedient of making noises; sometimesshe sighs, sometimes groans, sometimes utters inarticulate sounds, forwhich language has no name. If, in walking up the schoolroom, I passnear her, she puts out her foot that it may touch mine; if I do nothappen to observe the manoeuvre, and my boot comes in contact with herbrodequin, she affects to fall into convulsions of suppressed laughter;if I notice the snare and avoid it, she expresses her mortification insullen muttering, where I hear myself abused in bad French, pronouncedwith an intolerable Low German accent. 

Not far from Mdlle. Koslow sits another young lady by name AdeleDronsart: this is a Belgian, rather low of stature, in form heavy, with broad waist, short neck and limbs, good red and white complexion, features well chiselled and regular, well-cut eyes of a clear browncolour, light brown hair, good teeth, age not much above fifteen, but asfull-grown as a stout young Englishwoman of twenty. This portrait givesthe idea of a somewhat dumpy but good-looking damsel, does it not? Well, when I looked along the row of young heads, my eye generally stopped atthis of Adele's; her gaze was ever waiting for mine, and it frequentlysucceeded in arresting it. She was an unnatural-looking being--so young, fresh, blooming, yet so Gorgon-like. Suspicion, sullen ill-temper wereon her forehead, vicious propensities in her eye, envy and panther-likedeceit about her mouth. In general she sat very still; her massive shapelooked as if it could not bend much, nor did her large head--so broadat the base, so narrow towards the top--seem made to turn readily on hershort neck. She had but two varieties of expression; the prevalent onea forbidding, dissatisfied scowl, varied sometimes by a most perniciousand perfidious smile. She was shunned by her fellow-pupils, for, bad asmany of them were, few were as bad as she. 

Aurelia and Adele were in the first division of the second class; thesecond division was headed by a pensionnaire named Juanna Trista. Thisgirl was of mixed Belgian and Spanish origin; her Flemish mother wasdead, her Catalonian father was a merchant residing in the ---- Isles, where Juanna had been born and whence she was sent to Europe to beeducated. I wonder that any one, looking at that girl's head andcountenance, would have received her under their roof. She had preciselythe same shape of skull as Pope Alexander the Sixth; her organsof benevolence, veneration, conscientiousness, adhesiveness, weresingularly small, those of self-esteem, firmness, destructiveness, combativeness, preposterously large; her head sloped up in the penthouseshape, was contracted about the forehead, and prominent behind; shehad rather good, though large and marked features; her temperament wasfibrous and bilious, her complexion pale and dark, hair and eyes black, form angular and rigid but proportionate, age fifteen. 

Juanna was not very thin, but she had a gaunt visage, and her "regard"was fierce and hungry; narrow as was her brow, it presented space enoughfor the legible graving of two words, Mutiny and Hate; in some one ofher other lineaments I think the eye--cowardice had also its distinctcipher. Mdlle. Trista thought fit to trouble my first lessons with acoarse work-day sort of turbulence; she made noises with her mouth likea horse, she ejected her saliva, she uttered brutal expressions; behindand below her were seated a band of very vulgar, inferior-lookingFlamandes, including two or three examples of that deformity of personand imbecility of intellect whose frequency in the Low Countries wouldseem to furnish proof that the climate is such as to induce degeneracyof the human mind and body; these, I soon found, were completely underher influence, and with their aid she got up and sustained a swinishtumult, which I was constrained at last to quell by ordering her and twoof her tools to rise from their seats, and, having kept them standingfive minutes, turning them bodily out of the schoolroom: the accomplicesinto a large place adjoining called the grands salle; the principalinto a cabinet, of which I closed the door and pocketed the key. Thisjudgment I executed in the presence of Mdlle. Reuter, who looked muchaghast at beholding so decided a proceeding--the most severe that hadever been ventured on in her establishment. Her look of affright Ianswered with one of composure, and finally with a smile, which perhapsflattered, and certainly soothed her. Juanna Trista remained in Europelong enough to repay, by malevolence and ingratitude, all who had everdone her a good turn; and she then went to join her father in the----Isles, exulting in the thought that she should there have slaves, whom, as she said, she could kick and strike at will. 

These three pictures are from the life. I possess others, as marked andas little agreeable, but I will spare my reader the exhibition of them. 

Doubtless it will be thought that I ought now, by way of contrast, toshow something charming; some gentle virgin head, circled with a halo, some sweet personification of innocence, clasping the dove of peace toher bosom. No: I saw nothing of the sort, and therefore cannot portrayit. The pupil in the school possessing the happiest disposition wasa young girl from the country, Louise Path; she was sufficientlybenevolent and obliging, but not well taught nor well mannered;moreover, the plague-spot of dissimulation was in her also; honour andprinciple were unknown to her, she had scarcely heard their names. Theleast exceptionable pupil was the poor little Sylvie I have mentionedonce before. Sylvie was gentle in manners, intelligent in mind; she waseven sincere, as far as her religion would permit her to be so, but herphysical organization was defective; weak health stunted her growth andchilled her spirits, and then, destined as she was for the cloister, her whole soul was warped to a conventual bias, and in the tame, trainedsubjection of her manner, one read that she had already prepared herselffor her future course of life, by giving up her independence of thoughtand action into the hands of some despotic confessor. She permittedherself no original opinion, no preference of companion or employment;in everything she was guided by another. With a pale, passive, automatonair, she went about all day long doing what she was bid; never what sheliked, or what, from innate conviction, she thought it right to do. Thepoor little future religieuse had been early taught to make the dictatesof her own reason and conscience quite subordinate to the will ofher spiritual director. She was the model pupil of Mdlle. Reuter'sestablishment; pale, blighted image, where life lingered feebly, butwhence the soul had been conjured by Romish wizard-craft!

A few English pupils there were in this school, and these might bedivided into two classes. 1st. The continental English--the daughterschiefly of broken adventurers, whom debt or dishonour had driven fromtheir own country. These poor girls had never known the advantagesof settled homes, decorous example, or honest Protestant education;resident a few months now in one Catholic school, now in another, astheir parents wandered from land to land--from France to Germany, fromGermany to Belgium--they had picked up some scanty instruction, many badhabits, losing every notion even of the first elements of religion andmorals, and acquiring an imbecile indifference to every sentiment thatcan elevate humanity; they were distinguishable by an habitual lookof sullen dejection, the result of crushed self-respect and constantbrowbeating from their Popish fellow-pupils, who hated them as English, and scorned them as heretics. 

The second class were British English. Of these I did not encounter halfa dozen during the whole time of my attendance at the seminary; theircharacteristics were clean but careless dress, ill-arranged hair(compared with the tight and trim foreigners), erect carriage, flexiblefigures, white and taper hands, features more irregular, but also moreintellectual than those of the Belgians, grave and modest countenances, a general air of native propriety and decency; by this last circumstancealone I could at a glance distinguish the daughter of Albion andnursling of Protestantism from the foster-child of Rome, the PROTEGEEof Jesuistry: proud, too, was the aspect of these British girls; at onceenvied and ridiculed by their continental associates, they warded offinsult with austere civility, and met hate with mute disdain; theyeschewed company-keeping, and in the midst of numbers seemed to dwellisolated. 

The teachers presiding over this mixed multitude were three in number, all French--their names Mdlles. Zephyrine, Pelagie, and Suzette; the twolast were commonplace personages enough; their look was ordinary, their manner was ordinary, their temper was ordinary, their thoughts, feelings, and views were all ordinary--were I to write a chapter on thesubject I could not elucidate it further. Zephyrine was somewhat moredistinguished in appearance and deportment than Pelagie and Suzette, but in character genuine Parisian coquette, perfidious, mercenary, anddry-hearted. A fourth maitresse I sometimes saw who seemed to come dailyto teach needlework, or netting, or lace-mending, or some such flimsyart; but of her I never had more than a passing glimpse, as she sat inthe CARRE, with her frames and some dozen of the elder pupils about her, consequently I had no opportunity of studying her character, or even ofobserving her person much; the latter, I remarked, had a very Englishair for a maitresse, otherwise it was not striking; of character Ishould think; she possessed but little, as her pupils seemed constantly"en revolte" against her authority. She did not reside in the house; hername, I think, was Mdlle. Henri. 

Amidst this assemblage of all that was insignificant and defective, muchthat was vicious and repulsive (by that last epithet many would havedescribed the two or three stiff, silent, decently behaved, ill-dressedBritish girls), the sensible, sagacious, affable directress shone like asteady star over a marsh full of Jack-o'-lanthorns; profoundly awareof her superiority, she derived an inward bliss from that consciousnesswhich sustained her under all the care and responsibility inseparablefrom her position; it kept her temper calm, her brow smooth, her mannertranquil. She liked--as who would not?--on entering the school-room, to feel that her sole presence sufficed to diffuse that order andquiet which all the remonstrances, and even commands, of her underlingsfrequently failed to enforce; she liked to stand in comparison, orrather--contrast, with those who surrounded her, and to know that inpersonal as well as mental advantages, she bore away the undisputedpalm of preference--(the three teachers were all plain. ) Her pupils shemanaged with such indulgence and address, taking always on herself theoffice of recompenser and eulogist, and abandoning to her subalternsevery invidious task of blame and punishment, that they all regarded herwith deference, if not with affection; her teachers did not love her, but they submitted because they were her inferiors in everything; thevarious masters who attended her school were each and all in some wayor other under her influence; over one she had acquired power by herskilful management of his bad temper; over another by little attentionsto his petty caprices; a third she had subdued by flattery; a fourth--atimid man--she kept in awe by a sort of austere decision of mien; me, she still watched, still tried by the most ingenious tests--she rovedround me, baffled, yet persevering; I believe she thought I was likea smooth and bare precipice, which offered neither jutting stone nortree-root, nor tuft of grass to aid the climber. Now she flatteredwith exquisite tact, now she moralized, now she tried how far I wasaccessible to mercenary motives, then she disported on the brink ofaffection--knowing that some men are won by weakness--anon, she talkedexcellent sense, aware that others have the folly to admire judgment. I found it at once pleasant and easy to evade all these efforts; it wassweet, when she thought me nearly won, to turn round and to smile inher very eyes, half scornfully, and then to witness her scarcely veiled, though mute mortification. Still she persevered, and at last, I am boundto confess it, her finger, essaying, proving every atom of the casket, touched its secret spring, and for a moment the lid sprung open; shelaid her hand on the jewel within; whether she stole and broke it, orwhether the lid shut again with a snap on her fingers, read on, and youshall know. 

It happened that I came one day to give a lesson when I was indisposed;I had a bad cold and a cough; two hours' incessant talking left me veryhoarse and tired; as I quitted the schoolroom, and was passing along thecorridor, I met Mdlle. Reuter; she remarked, with an anxious air, thatI looked very pale and tired. "Yes, " I said, "I was fatigued;" and then, with increased interest, she rejoined, "You shall not go away till youhave had some refreshment. " She persuaded me to step into the parlour, and was very kind and gentle while I stayed. The next day she was kinderstill; she came herself into the class to see that the windows wereclosed, and that there was no draught; she exhorted me with friendlyearnestness not to over-exert myself; when I went away, she gave meher hand unasked, and I could not but mark, by a respectful and gentlepressure, that I was sensible of the favour, and grateful for it. Mymodest demonstration kindled a little merry smile on her countenance;I thought her almost charming. During the remainder of the evening, mymind was full of impatience for the afternoon of the next day to arrive, that I might see her again. 

I was not disappointed, for she sat in the class during the whole of mysubsequent lesson, and often looked at me almost with affection. At fouro'clock she accompanied me out of the schoolroom, asking with solicitudeafter my health, then scolding me sweetly because I spoke too loud andgave myself too much trouble; I stopped at the glass-door which led intothe garden, to hear her lecture to the end; the door was open, it was avery fine day, and while I listened to the soothing reprimand, I lookedat the sunshine and flowers, and felt very happy. The day-scholars beganto pour from the schoolrooms into the passage. 

"Will you go into the garden a minute or two, " asked she, "till they aregone?"

I descended the steps without answering, but I looked back as much as tosay--

"You will come with me?"

In another minute I and the directress were walking side by side downthe alley bordered with fruit-trees, whose white blossoms were then infull blow as well as their tender green leaves. The sky was blue, theair still, the May afternoon was full of brightness and fragrance. Released from the stifling class, surrounded with flowers and foliage, with a pleasing, smiling, affable woman at my side--how did I feel? Why, very enviably. It seemed as if the romantic visions my imagination hadsuggested of this garden, while it was yet hidden from me by the jealousboards, were more than realized; and, when a turn in the alley shut outthe view of the house, and some tall shrubs excluded M. Pelet'smansion, and screened us momentarily from the other houses, risingamphitheatre-like round this green spot, I gave my arm to Mdlle. Reuter, and led her to a garden-chair, nestled under some lilacs near. She satdown; I took my place at her side. She went on talking to me with thatease which communicates ease, and, as I listened, a revelation dawnedin my mind that I was on the brink of falling in love. The dinner-bellrang, both at her house and M. Pelet's; we were obliged to part; Idetained her a moment as she was moving away. 

"I want something, " said I. 

"What?" asked Zoraide naively. 

"Only a flower. "

"Gather it then--or two, or twenty, if you like. "

"No--one will do-but you must gather it, and give it to me. "

"What a caprice!" she exclaimed, but she raised herself on her tip-toes, and, plucking a beautiful branch of lilac, offered it to me with grace. I took it, and went away, satisfied for the present, and hopeful for thefuture. 

Certainly that May day was a lovely one, and it closed in moonlightnight of summer warmth and serenity. I remember this well; for, havingsat up late that evening, correcting devoirs, and feeling weary anda little oppressed with the closeness of my small room, I opened theoften-mentioned boarded window, whose boards, however, I had persuadedold Madame Pelet to have removed since I had filled the post ofprofessor in the pensionnat de demoiselles, as, from that time, itwas no longer "inconvenient" for me to overlook my own pupils at theirsports. I sat down in the window-seat, rested my arm on the sill, and leaned out: above me was the clear-obscure of a cloudlessnight sky--splendid moonlight subdued the tremulous sparkle of thestars--below lay the garden, varied with silvery lustre and deep shade, and all fresh with dew--a grateful perfume exhaled from the closedblossoms of the fruit-trees--not a leaf stirred, the night wasbreezeless. My window looked directly down upon a certain walk of Mdlle. Reuter's garden, called "l'allee defendue, " so named because the pupilswere forbidden to enter it on account of its proximity to the boys'school. It was here that the lilacs and laburnums grew especially thick;this was the most sheltered nook in the enclosure, its shrubs screenedthe garden-chair where that afternoon I had sat with the youngdirectress. I need not say that my thoughts were chiefly with her asI leaned from the lattice, and let my eye roam, now over the walks andborders of the garden, now along the many-windowed front of the housewhich rose white beyond the masses of foliage. I wondered in what partof the building was situated her apartment; and a single light, shiningthrough the persiennes of one croisee, seemed to direct me to it. 

"She watches late, " thought I, "for it must be now near midnight. Sheis a fascinating little woman, " I continued in voiceless soliloquy; "herimage forms a pleasant picture in memory; I know she is not what theworld calls pretty--no matter, there is harmony in her aspect, and Ilike it; her brown hair, her blue eye, the freshness of her cheek, thewhiteness of her neck, all suit my taste. Then I respect her talent;the idea of marrying a doll or a fool was always abhorrent to me: I knowthat a pretty doll, a fair fool, might do well enough for the honeymoon;but when passion cooled, how dreadful to find a lump of wax and woodlaid in my bosom, a half idiot clasped in my arms, and to remember thatI had made of this my equal--nay, my idol--to know that I must pass therest of my dreary life with a creature incapable of understanding whatI said, of appreciating what I thought, or of sympathizing with what Ifelt! "Now, Zoraide Reuter, " thought I, "has tact, CARACTERE, judgment, discretion; has she heart? What a good, simple little smile playedabout her lips when she gave me the branch of lilacs! I have thought hercrafty, dissembling, interested sometimes, it is true; but may not muchthat looks like cunning and dissimulation in her conduct be onlythe efforts made by a bland temper to traverse quietly perplexingdifficulties? And as to interest, she wishes to make her way in theworld, no doubt, and who can blame her? Even if she be truly deficientin sound principle, is it not rather her misfortune than her fault? Shehas been brought up a Catholic: had she been born an Englishwoman, andreared a Protestant, might she not have added straight integrity toall her other excellences? Supposing she were to marry an English andProtestant husband, would she not, rational, sensible as she is, quicklyacknowledge the superiority of right over expediency, honesty overpolicy? It would be worth a man's while to try the experiment; to-morrowI will renew my observations. She knows that I watch her: how calm sheis under scrutiny! it seems rather to gratify than annoy her. " Here astrain of music stole in upon my monologue, and suspended it; it wasa bugle, very skilfully played, in the neighbourhood of the park, Ithought, or on the Place Royale. So sweet were the tones, so subduingtheir effect at that hour, in the midst of silence and under thequiet reign of moonlight, I ceased to think, that I might listen moreintently. The strain retreated, its sound waxed fainter and was soongone; my ear prepared to repose on the absolute hush of midnight oncemore. No. What murmur was that which, low, and yet near and approachingnearer, frustrated the expectation of total silence? It was some oneconversing--yes, evidently, an audible, though subdued voice spoke inthe garden immediately below me. Another answered; the first voice wasthat of a man, the second that of a woman; and a man and a woman I sawcoming slowly down the alley. Their forms were at first in shade, Icould but discern a dusk outline of each, but a ray of moonlight metthem at the termination of the walk, when they were under my very nose, and revealed very plainly, very unequivocally, Mdlle. Zoraide Reuter, arm-in-arm, or hand-in-hand (I forget which) with my principal, confidant, and counsellor, M. Francois Pelet. And M. Pelet was saying--

"A quand donc le jour des noces, ma bien-aimee?"

And Mdlle. Reuter answered--

"Mais, Francois, tu sais bien qu'il me serait impossible de me marieravant les vacances. "

"June, July, August, a whole quarter!" exclaimed the director. "How canI wait so long?--I who am ready, even now, to expire at your feet withimpatience!"

"Ah! if you die, the whole affair will be settled without any troubleabout notaries and contracts; I shall only have to order a slightmourning dress, which will be much sooner prepared than the nuptialtrousseau. "

"Cruel Zoraide! you laugh at the distress of one who loves you sodevotedly as I do: my torment is your sport; you scruple not to stretchmy soul on the rack of jealousy; for, deny it as you will, I am certainyou have cast encouraging glances on that school-boy, Crimsworth; he haspresumed to fall in love, which he dared not have done unless you hadgiven him room to hope. "

"What do you say, Francois? Do you say Crimsworth is in love with me?"

"Over head and ears. "

"Has he told you so?"

"No--but I see it in his face: he blushes whenever your name ismentioned. " A little laugh of exulting coquetry announced Mdlle. Reuter's gratification at this piece of intelligence (which was a lie, by-the-by--I had never been so far gone as that, after all). M. Peletproceeded to ask what she intended to do with me, intimating prettyplainly, and not very gallantly, that it was nonsense for her to thinkof taking such a "blanc-bec" as a husband, since she must be at leastten years older than I (was she then thirty-two? I should not havethought it). I heard her disclaim any intentions on the subject--thedirector, however, still pressed her to give a definite answer. 

"Francois, " said she, "you are jealous, " and still she laughed; then, asif suddenly recollecting that this coquetry was not consistent with thecharacter for modest dignity she wished to establish, she proceeded, in a demure voice: "Truly, my dear Francois, I will not deny that thisyoung Englishman may have made some attempts to ingratiate himself withme; but, so far from giving him any encouragement, I have always treatedhim with as much reserve as it was possible to combine with civility;affianced as I am to you, I would give no man false hopes; believe me, dear friend. " Still Pelet uttered murmurs of distrust--so I judged, atleast, from her reply. 

"What folly! How could I prefer an unknown foreigner to you? Andthen--not to flatter your vanity--Crimsworth could not bear comparisonwith you either physically or mentally; he is not a handsome man at all;some may call him gentleman-like and intelligent-looking, but for mypart--"

The rest of the sentence was lost in the distance, as the pair, risingfrom the chair in which they had been seated, moved away. I waited theirreturn, but soon the opening and shutting of a door informed me thatthey had re-entered the house; I listened a little longer, all wasperfectly still; I listened more than an hour--at last I heard M. Peletcome in and ascend to his chamber. Glancing once more towards the longfront of the garden-house, I perceived that its solitary light wasat length extinguished; so, for a time, was my faith in love andfriendship. I went to bed, but something feverish and fiery had got intomy veins which prevented me from sleeping much that night. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

NEXT morning I rose with the dawn, and having dressed myself and stoodhalf-an-hour, my elbow leaning on the chest of drawers, considering whatmeans I should adopt to restore my spirits, fagged with sleeplessness, to their ordinary tone--for I had no intention of getting up a scenewith M. Pelet, reproaching him with perfidy, sending him a challenge, orperforming other gambadoes of the sort--I hit at last on theexpedient of walking out in the cool of the morning to a neighbouringestablishment of baths, and treating myself to a bracing plunge. The remedy produced the desired effect. I came back at seven o'clocksteadied and invigorated, and was able to greet M. Pelet, when heentered to breakfast, with an unchanged and tranquil countenance; evena cordial offering of the hand and the flattering appellation of "monfils, " pronounced in that caressing tone with which Monsieur had, oflate days especially, been accustomed to address me, did not elicit anyexternal sign of the feeling which, though subdued, still glowed atmy heart. Not that I nursed vengeance--no; but the sense of insult andtreachery lived in me like a kindling, though as yet smothered coal. Godknows I am not by nature vindictive; I would not hurt a man because Ican no longer trust or like him; but neither my reason nor feelingsare of the vacillating order--they are not of that sand-like sort whereimpressions, if soon made, are as soon effaced. Once convinced that myfriend's disposition is incompatible with my own, once assured that heis indelibly stained with certain defects obnoxious to my principles, and I dissolve the connection. I did so with Edward. As to Pelet, thediscovery was yet new; should I act thus with him? It was the question Iplaced before my mind as I stirred my cup of coffee with a half-pistolet(we never had spoons), Pelet meantime being seated opposite, his pallidface looking as knowing and more haggard than usual, his blue eyeturned, now sternly on his boys and ushers, and now graciously on me. 

"Circumstances must guide me, " said I; and meeting Pelet's false glanceand insinuating smile, I thanked heaven that I had last night openedmy window and read by the light of a full moon the true meaning of thatguileful countenance. I felt half his master, because the reality ofhis nature was now known to me; smile and flatter as he would, I saw hissoul lurk behind his smile, and heard in every one of his smooth phrasesa voice interpreting their treacherous import. 

But Zoraide Reuter? Of course her defection had cut me to the quick?That stint; must have gone too deep for any consolations of philosophyto be available in curing its smart? Not at all. The night fever over, I looked about for balm to that wound also, and found some nearer homethan at Gilead. Reason was my physician; she began by proving that theprize I had missed was of little value: she admitted that, physically, Zoraide might have suited me, but affirmed that our souls were not inharmony, and that discord must have resulted from the union of her mindwith mine. She then insisted on the suppression of all repining, and commanded me rather to rejoice that I had escaped a snare. Hermedicament did me good. I felt its strengthening effect when I met thedirectress the next day; its stringent operation on the nerves sufferedno trembling, no faltering; it enabled me to face her with firmness, to pass her with ease. She had held out her hand to me--that I did notchoose to see. She had greeted me with a charming smile--it fell on myheart like light on stone. I passed on to the estrade, she followed me;her eye, fastened on my face, demanded of every feature the meaning ofmy changed and careless manner. "I will give her an answer, " thought I;and, meeting her gaze full, arresting, fixing her glance, I shot intoher eyes, from my own, a look, where there was no respect, no love, no tenderness, no gallantry; where the strictest analysis could detectnothing but scorn, hardihood, irony. I made her bear it, and feel it;her steady countenance did not change, but her colour rose, and sheapproached me as if fascinated. She stepped on to the estrade, andstood close by my side; she had nothing to say. I would not relieve herembarrassment, and negligently turned over the leaves of a book. 

"I hope you feel quite recovered to-day, " at last she said, in a lowtone. 

"And I, mademoiselle, hope that you took no cold last night inconsequence of your late walk in the garden. "

Quick enough of comprehension, she understood me directly; her facebecame a little blanched--a very little--but no muscle in her rathermarked features moved; and, calm and self-possessed, she retired fromthe estrade, taking her seat quietly at a little distance, and occupyingherself with netting a purse. I proceeded to give my lesson; it was a"Composition, " i. E. , I dictated certain general questions, of which thepupils were to compose the answers from memory, access to books beingforbidden. While Mdlle. Eulalie, Hortense, Caroline, &c. , were ponderingover the string of rather abstruse grammatical interrogatories I hadpropounded, I was at liberty to employ the vacant half hour in furtherobserving the directress herself. The green silk purse was progressingfast in her hands; her eyes were bent upon it; her attitude, as shesat netting within two yards of me, was still yet guarded; in her wholeperson were expressed at once, and with equal clearness, vigilance andrepose--a rare union! Looking at her, I was forced, as I had often beenbefore, to offer her good sense, her wondrous self-control, the tributeof involuntary admiration. She had felt that I had withdrawn from hermy esteem; she had seen contempt and coldness in my eye, and to her, whocoveted the approbation of all around her, who thirsted after universalgood opinion, such discovery must have been an acute wound. I hadwitnessed its effect in the momentary pallor of her cheek-cheek unusedto vary; yet how quickly, by dint of self-control, had she recoveredher composure! With what quiet dignity she now sat, almost at my side, sustained by her sound and vigorous sense; no trembling in her somewhatlengthened, though shrewd upper lip, no coward shame on her austereforehead!

"There is metal there, " I said, as I gazed. "Would that there were firealso, living ardour to make the steel glow--then I could love her. "

Presently I discovered that she knew I was watching her, for she stirrednot, she lifted not her crafty eyelid; she had glanced down from hernetting to her small foot, peeping from the soft folds of her purplemerino gown; thence her eye reverted to her hand, ivory white, with abright garnet ring on the forefinger, and a light frill of lace roundthe wrist; with a scarcely perceptible movement she turned her head, causing her nut-brown curls to wave gracefully. In these slight signsI read that the wish of her heart, the design of her brain, was to lureback the game she had scared. A little incident gave her the opportunityof addressing me again. 

While all was silence in the class--silence, but for the rustling ofcopy-books and the travelling of pens over their pages--a leaf of thelarge folding-door, opening from the hall, unclosed, admitting apupil who, after making a hasty obeisance, ensconced herself with someappearance of trepidation, probably occasioned by her entering solate, in a vacant seat at the desk nearest the door. Being seated, sheproceeded, still with an air of hurry and embarrassment, to open hercabas, to take out her books; and, while I was waiting for her to lookup, in order to make out her identity--for, shortsighted as I was, I hadnot recognized her at her entrance--Mdlle. Reuter, leaving her chair, approached the estrade. 

"Monsieur Creemsvort, " said she, in a whisper: for when the schoolroomswere silent, the directress always moved with velvet tread, and spokein the most subdued key, enforcing order and stillness fully as muchby example as precept: "Monsieur Creemsvort, that young person, who hasjust entered, wishes to have the advantage of taking lessons with you inEnglish; she is not a pupil of the house; she is, indeed, in one sense, a teacher, for she gives instruction in lace-mending, and in littlevarieties of ornamental needle-work. She very properly proposes toqualify herself for a higher department of education, and has askedpermission to attend your lessons, in order to perfect her knowledgeof English, in which language she has, I believe, already madesome progress; of course it is my wish to aid her in an effortso praiseworthy; you will permit her then to benefit by yourinstruction--n'est ce pas, monsieur?" And Mdlle. Reuter's eyes wereraised to mine with a look at once naive, benign, and beseeching. 

I replied, "Of course, " very laconically, almost abruptly. 

"Another word, " she said, with softness: "Mdlle. Henri has not receiveda regular education; perhaps her natural talents are not of the highestorder: but I can assure you of the excellence of her intentions, andeven of the amiability of her disposition. Monsieur will then, I amsure, have the goodness to be considerate with her at first, and notexpose her backwardness, her inevitable deficiencies, before the youngladies, who, in a sense, are her pupils. Will Monsieur Creemsvort favourme by attending to this hint?" I nodded. She continued with subduedearnestness--

"Pardon me, monsieur, if I venture to add that what I have just said isof importance to the poor girl; she already experiences great difficultyin impressing these giddy young things with a due degree of deferencefor her authority, and should that difficulty be increased by newdiscoveries of her incapacity, she might find her position in myestablishment too painful to be retained; a circumstance I should muchregret for her sake, as she can ill afford to lose the profits of heroccupation here. "

Mdlle. Reuter possessed marvellous tact; but tact the most exclusive, unsupported by sincerity, will sometimes fail of its effect; thus, onthis occasion, the longer she preached about the necessity of beingindulgent to the governess pupil, the more impatient I felt as Ilistened. I discerned so clearly that while her professed motive was awish to aid the dull, though well-meaning Mdlle. Henri, her real onewas no other than a design to impress me with an idea of her own exaltedgoodness and tender considerateness; so having again hastily noddedassent to her remarks, I obviated their renewal by suddenly demandingthe compositions, in a sharp accent, and stepping from the estrade, Iproceeded to collect them. As I passed the governess-pupil, I said toher--

"You have come in too late to receive a lesson to-day; try to be morepunctual next time. "

I was behind her, and could not read in her face the effect of my notvery civil speech. Probably I should not have troubled myself to do so, had I been full in front; but I observed that she immediately beganto slip her books into her cabas again; and, presently, after I hadreturned to the estrade, while I was arranging the mass of compositions, I heard the folding-door again open and close; and, on looking up, Iperceived her place vacant. I thought to myself, "She will consider herfirst attempt at taking a lesson in English something of a failure;" andI wondered whether she had departed in the sulks, or whether stupidityhad induced her to take my words too literally, or, finally, whethermy irritable tone had wounded her feelings. The last notion I dismissedalmost as soon as I had conceived it, for not having seen any appearanceof sensitiveness in any human face since my arrival in Belgium, I hadbegun to regard it almost as a fabulous quality. Whether her physiognomyannounced it I could not tell, for her speedy exit had allowed me notime to ascertain the circumstance. I had, indeed, on two or threeprevious occasions, caught a passing view of her (as I believe has beenmentioned before); but I had never stopped to scrutinize either her faceor person, and had but the most vague idea of her general appearance. Just as I had finished rolling up the compositions, the four o'clockbell rang; with my accustomed alertness in obeying that signal, Igrasped my hat and evacuated the premises. 

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 opinion;her 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 name 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. 

CHAPTER XV. 

SOME time elapsed before I again gave a lesson in the first class; theholiday of Whitsuntide occupied three days, and on the fourth it was theturn of the second division to receive my instructions. As I madethe transit of the CARRE, I observed, as usual, the band of sewerssurrounding Mdlle. Henri; there were only about a dozen of them, butthey made as much noise as might have sufficed for fifty; they seemedvery little under her control; three or four at once assailed her withimportunate requirements; she looked harassed, she demanded silence, butin vain. She saw me, and I read in her eye pain that a stranger shouldwitness the insubordination of her pupils; she seemed to entreatorder--her prayers were useless; then I remarked that she compressedher lips and contracted her brow; and her countenance, if I readit correctly, said--"I have done my best; I seem to merit blamenotwithstanding; blame me then who will. " I passed on; as I closed theschool-room door, I heard her say, suddenly and sharply, addressing oneof the eldest and most turbulent of the lot--

"Amelie Mullenberg, ask me no question, and request of me no assistance, for a week to come; during that space of time I will neither speak toyou nor help you. "

The words were uttered with emphasis--nay, with vehemence--and acomparative silence followed; whether the calm was permanent, I knownot; two doors now closed between me and the CARRE. 

Next day was appropriated to the first class; on my arrival, I found thedirectress seated, as usual, in a chair between the two estrades, andbefore her was standing Mdlle. Henri, in an attitude (as it seemed tome) of somewhat reluctant attention. The directress was knitting andtalking at the same time. Amidst the hum of a large school-room, it waseasy so to speak in the ear of one person, as to be heard by that personalone, and it was thus Mdlle. Reuter parleyed with her teacher. The faceof the latter was a little flushed, not a little troubled; there wasvexation in it, whence resulting I know not, for the directress lookedvery placid indeed; she could not be scolding in such gentle whispers, and with so equable a mien; no, it was presently proved that herdiscourse had been of the most friendly tendency, for I heard theclosing words--

"C'est assez, ma bonne amie; a present je ne veux pas vous retenirdavantage. "

Without reply, Mdlle. Henri turned away; dissatisfaction was plainlyevinced in her face, and a smile, slight and brief, but bitter, distrustful, and, I thought, scornful, curled her lip as she took herplace in the class; it was a secret, involuntary smile, which lasted buta second; an air of depression succeeded, chased away presently by oneof attention and interest, when I gave the word for all the pupils totake their reading-books. In general I hated the reading-lesson, itwas such a torture to the ear to listen to their uncouth mouthing ofmy native tongue, and no effort of example or precept on my part everseemed to effect the slightest improvement in their accent. To-day, each in her appropriate key, lisped, stuttered, mumbled, and jabbered asusual; about fifteen had racked me in turn, and my auricular nerve wasexpecting with resignation the discords of the sixteenth, when a full, though low voice, read out, in clear correct English. 

"On his way to Perth, the king was met by a Highland woman, callingherself a prophetess; she stood at the side of the ferry by which he wasabout to travel to the north, and cried with a loud voice, 'My lord theking, if you pass this water you will never return again alive!'"--(VIDEthe HISTORY OF SCOTLAND). 

I looked up in amazement; the voice was a voice of Albion; the accentwas pure and silvery; it only wanted firmness, and assurance, to be thecounterpart of what any well-educated lady in Essex or Middlesex mighthave enounced, yet the speaker or reader was no other than Mdlle. Henri, in whose grave, joyless face I saw no mark of consciousness that she hadperformed any extraordinary feat. No one else evinced surprise either. Mdlle. Reuter knitted away assiduously; I was aware, however, that atthe conclusion of the paragraph, she had lifted her eyelid and honouredme with a glance sideways; she did not know the full excellency of theteacher's style of reading, but she perceived that her accent was notthat of the others, and wanted to discover what I thought; I masked myvisage with indifference, and ordered the next girl to proceed. 

When the lesson was over, I took advantage of the confusion caused bybreaking up, to approach Mdlle. Henri; she was standing near the windowand retired as I advanced; she thought I wanted to look out, and didnot imagine that I could have anything to say to her. I took herexercise-book; out of her hand; as I turned over the leaves I addressedher:--

"You have had lessons in English before?" I asked. 

"No, sir. "

"No! you read it well; you have been in England?"

"Oh, no!" with some animation. 

"You have been in English families?"

Still the answer was "No. " Here my eye, resting on the flyleaf of thebook, saw written, "Frances Evan Henri. "

"Your name?" I asked

"Yes, sir. "

My interrogations were cut short; I heard a little rustling behind me, and close at my back was the directress, professing to be examining theinterior of a desk. 

"Mademoiselle, " said she, looking up and addressing the teacher, "Willyou have the goodness to go and stand in the corridor, while the youngladies are putting on their things, and try to keep some order?"

Mdlle. Henri obeyed. 

"What splendid weather!" observed the directress cheerfully, glancing atthe same time from the window. I assented and was withdrawing. "What ofyour new pupil, monsieur?" continued she, following my retreating steps. "Is she likely to make progress in English?"

"Indeed I can hardly judge. She possesses a pretty good accent; ofher real knowledge of the language I have as yet had no opportunity offorming an opinion. "

"And her natural capacity, monsieur? I have had my fears about that: canyou relieve me by an assurance at least of its average power?"

"I see no reason to doubt its average power, mademoiselle, but reallyI scarcely know her, and have not had time to study the calibre of hercapacity. I wish you a very good afternoon. "

She still pursued me. "You will observe, monsieur, and tell me what youthink; I could so much better rely on your opinion than on my own; womencannot judge of these things as men can, and, excuse my pertinacity, monsieur, but it is natural I should feel interested about this poorlittle girl (pauvre petite); she has scarcely any relations, her ownefforts are all she has to look to, her acquirements must be her solefortune; her present position has once been mine, or nearly so; it isthen but natural I should sympathize with her; and sometimes when I seethe difficulty she has in managing pupils, I reel quite chagrined. I doubt not she does her best, her intentions are excellent; but, monsieur, she wants tact and firmness. I have talked to her on thesubject, but I am not fluent, and probably did not express myselfwith clearness; she never appears to comprehend me. Now, would youoccasionally, when you see an opportunity, slip in a word of adviceto her on the subject; men have so much more influence than womenhave--they argue so much more logically than we do; and you, monsieur, in particular, have so paramount a power of making yourself obeyed;a word of advice from you could not but do her good; even if she weresullen and headstrong (which I hope she is not), she would scarcelyrefuse to listen to you; for my own part, I can truly say that I neverattend one of your lessons without deriving benefit from witnessing yourmanagement of the pupils. The other masters are a constant source ofanxiety to me; they cannot impress the young ladies with sentiments ofrespect, nor restrain the levity natural to youth: in you, monsieur, Ifeel the most absolute confidence; try then to put this poor childinto the way of controlling our giddy, high-spirited Brabantoises. But, monsieur, I would add one word more; don't alarm her AMOUR PROPRE;beware of inflicting a wound there. I reluctantly admit that in thatparticular she is blameably--some would say ridiculously--susceptible. I fear I have touched this sore point inadvertently, and she cannot getover it. "

During the greater part of this harangue my hand was on the lock of theouter door; I now turned it. 

"Au revoir, mademoiselle, " said I, and I escaped. I saw the directress'sstock of words was yet far from exhausted. She looked after me, shewould fain have detained me longer. Her manner towards me hadbeen altered ever since I had begun to treat her with hardness andindifference: she almost cringed to me on every occasion; she consultedmy countenance incessantly, and beset me with innumerable littleofficious attentions. Servility creates despotism. This slavish homage, instead of softening my heart, only pampered whatever was stern andexacting in its mood. The very circumstance of her hovering round melike a fascinated bird, seemed to transform me into a rigid pillar ofstone; her flatteries irritated my scorn, her blandishments confirmedmy reserve. At times I wondered what she meant by giving herself suchtrouble to win me, when the more profitable Pelet was already in hernets, and when, too, she was aware that I possessed her secret, for Ihad not scrupled to tell her as much: but the fact is that as it washer nature to doubt the reality and under-value the worth of modesty, affection, disinterestedness--to regard these qualities as foibles ofcharacter--so it was equally her tendency to consider pride, hardness, selfishness, as proofs of strength. She would trample on the neckof humility, she would kneel at the feet of disdain; she would meettenderness with secret contempt, indifference she would woo withceaseless assiduities. Benevolence, devotedness, enthusiasm, wereher antipathies; for dissimulation and self-interest she had apreference--they were real wisdom in her eyes; moral and physicaldegradation, mental and bodily inferiority, she regarded withindulgence; they were foils capable of being turned to good account asset-offs for her own endowments. To violence, injustice, tyranny, shesuccumbed--they were her natural masters; she had no propensity to hate, no impulse to resist them; the indignation their behests awake in somehearts was unknown in hers. From all this it resulted that the false andselfish called her wise, the vulgar and debased termed her charitable, the insolent and unjust dubbed her amiable, the conscientious andbenevolent generally at first accepted as valid her claim to beconsidered one of themselves; but ere long the plating of pretensionwore off, the real material appeared below, and they laid her aside as adeception. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

In the course of another fortnight I had seen sufficient of FrancesEvans Henri, to enable me to form a more definite opinion of hercharacter. I found her possessed in a somewhat remarkable degree of atleast two good points, viz. , perseverance and a sense of duty; Ifound she was really capable of applying to study, of contending withdifficulties. At first I offered her the same help which I had alwaysfound it necessary to confer on the others; I began with unloosing forher each knotty point, but I soon discovered that such help was regardedby my new pupil as degrading; she recoiled from it with a certain proudimpatience. Hereupon I appointed her long lessons, and left her to solvealone any perplexities they might present. She set to the task withserious ardour, and having quickly accomplished one labour, eagerlydemanded more. So much for her perseverance; as to her sense of duty, it evinced itself thus: she liked to learn, but hated to teach; herprogress as a pupil depended upon herself, and I saw that on herself shecould calculate with certainty; her success as a teacher rested partly, perhaps chiefly, upon the will of others; it cost her a most painfuleffort to enter into conflict with this foreign will, to endeavourto bend it into subjection to her own; for in what regarded people ingeneral the action of her will was impeded by many scruples; it was asunembarrassed as strong where her own affairs were concerned, and to itshe could at any time subject her inclination, if that inclination wentcounter to her convictions of right; yet when called upon to wrestlewith the propensities, the habits, the faults of others, of childrenespecially, who are deaf to reason, and, for the most part, insensate topersuasion, her will sometimes almost refused to act; then came in thesense of duty, and forced the reluctant will into operation. A wastefulexpense of energy and labour was frequently the consequence; Francestoiled for and with her pupils like a drudge, but it was long ere herconscientious exertions were rewarded by anything like docility on theirpart, because they saw that they had power over her, inasmuch as byresisting her painful attempts to convince, persuade, control--byforcing her to the employment of coercive measures--they couldinflict upon her exquisite suffering. Human beings--human childrenespecially--seldom deny themselves the pleasure of exercising a powerwhich they are conscious of possessing, even though that power consistonly in a capacity to make others wretched; a pupil whose sensations areduller than those of his instructor, while his nerves are tougher andhis bodily strength perhaps greater, has an immense advantage over thatinstructor, and he will generally use it relentlessly, because the veryyoung, very healthy, very thoughtless, know neither how to sympathizenor how to spare. Frances, I fear, suffered much; a continual weightseemed to oppress her spirits; I have said she did not live in thehouse, and whether in her own abode, wherever that might be, she worethe same preoccupied, unsmiling, sorrowfully resolved air that alwaysshaded her features under the roof of Mdlle. Reuter, I could not tell. 

One day I gave, as a devoir, the trite little anecdote of Alfred tendingcakes in the herdsman's hut, to be related with amplifications. Asingular affair most of the pupils made of it; brevity was what theyhad chiefly studied; the majority of the narratives were perfectlyunintelligible; those of Sylvie and Leonie Ledru alone pretended toanything like sense and connection. Eulalie, indeed, had hit, upon aclever expedient for at once ensuring accuracy and saving trouble; shehad obtained access somehow to an abridged history of England, and hadcopied the anecdote out fair. I wrote on the margin of her production"Stupid and deceitful, " and then tore it down the middle. 

Last in the pile of single-leaved devoirs, I found one of severalsheets, neatly written out and stitched together; I knew the hand, andscarcely needed the evidence of the signature "Frances Evans Henri" toconfirm my conjecture as to the writer's identity. 

Night was my usual time for correcting devoirs, and my own room theusual scene of such task--task most onerous hitherto; and it seemedstrange to me to feel rising within me an incipient sense of interest, as I snuffed the candle and addressed myself to the perusal of the poorteacher's manuscript. 

"Now, " thought I, "I shall see a glimpse of what she really is; I shallget an idea of the nature and extent of her powers; not that she can beexpected to express herself well in a foreign tongue, but still, if shehas any mind, here will be a reflection of it. "

The narrative commenced by a description of a Saxon peasant's hut, situated within the confines of a great, leafless, winter forest; itrepresented an evening in December; flakes of snow were falling, andthe herdsman foretold a heavy storm; he summoned his wife to aid him incollecting their flock, roaming far away on the pastoral banks of theThone; he warns her that it will be late ere they return. The good womanis reluctant to quit her occupation of baking cakes for the eveningmeal; but acknowledging the primary importance of securing the herds andflocks, she puts on her sheep-skin mantle; and, addressing a strangerwho rests half reclined on a bed of rushes near the hearth, bids himmind the bread till her return. 

"Take care, young man, " she continues, "that you fasten the door wellafter us; and, above all, open to none in our absence; whatever soundyou hear, stir not, and look not out. The night will soon fall; thisforest is most wild and lonely; strange noises are often heard thereinafter sunset; wolves haunt these glades, and Danish warriors infest thecountry; worse things are talked of; you might chance to hear, as itwere, a child cry, and on opening the door to afford it succour, a greetblack bull, or a shadowy goblin dog, might rush over the threshold;or, more awful still, if something flapped, as with wings, against thelattice, and then a raven or a white dove flew in and settled on thehearth, such a visitor would be a sure sign of misfortune to the house;therefore, heed my advice, and lift the latchet for nothing. "

Her husband calls her away, both depart. The stranger, left alone, listens awhile to the muffled snow-wind, the remote, swollen sound ofthe river, and then he speaks. 

"It is Christmas Eve, " says he, "I mark the date; here I sit alone ona rude couch of rushes, sheltered by the thatch of a herdsman's hut;I, whose inheritance was a kingdom, owe my night's harbourage to a poorserf; my throne is usurped, my crown presses the brow of an invader; Ihave no friends; my troops wander broken in the hills of Wales; recklessrobbers spoil my country; my subjects lie prostrate, their breastscrushed by the heel of the brutal Dane. Fate! thou hast done thy worst, and now thou standest before me resting thy hand on thy blunted blade. Ay; I see thine eye confront mine and demand why I still live, why Istill hope. Pagan demon, I credit not thine omnipotence, and so cannotsuccumb to thy power. My God, whose Son, as on this night, took on Himthe form of man, and for man vouchsafed to suffer and bleed, controlsthy hand, and without His behest thou canst not strike a stroke. My Godis sinless, eternal, all-wise--in Him is my trust; and though strippedand crushed by thee--though naked, desolate, void of resource--I do notdespair, I cannot despair: were the lance of Guthrum now wet with myblood, I should not despair. I watch, I toil, I hope, I pray; Jehovah, in his own time, will aid. "

I need not continue the quotation; the whole devoir was in the samestrain. There were errors of orthography, there were foreign idioms, there were some faults of construction, there were verbs irregulartransformed into verbs regular; it was mostly made up, as the aboveexample shows, of short and somewhat rude sentences, and the style stoodin great need of polish and sustained dignity; yet such as it was, Ihad hitherto seen nothing like it in the course of my professorialexperience. The girl's mind had conceived a picture of the hut, of thetwo peasants, of the crownless king; she had imagined the wintry forest, she had recalled the old Saxon ghost-legends, she had appreciatedAlfred's courage under calamity, she had remembered his Christianeducation, and had shown him, with the rooted confidence of thoseprimitive days, relying on the scriptural Jehovah for aid against themythological Destiny. This she had done without a hint from me: I hadgiven the subject, but not said a word about the manner of treating it. 

"I will find, or make, an opportunity of speaking to her, " I said tomyself as I rolled the devoir up; "I will learn what she has of Englishin her besides the name of Frances Evans; she is no novice in thelanguage, that is evident, yet she told me she had neither been inEngland, nor taken lessons in English, nor lived in English families. "

In the course of my next lesson, I made a report of the other devoirs, dealing out praise and blame in very small retail parcels, according tomy custom, for there was no use in blaming severely, and high encomiumswere rarely merited. I said nothing of Mdlle. Henri's exercise, and, spectacles on nose, I endeavoured to decipher in her countenance hersentiments at the omission. I wanted to find out whether in her existeda consciousness of her own talents. "If she thinks she did a cleverthing in composing that devoir, she will now look mortified, " thoughtI. Grave as usual, almost sombre, was her face; as usual, her eyes werefastened on the cahier open before her; there was something, I thought, of expectation in her attitude, as I concluded a brief review of thelast devoir, and when, casting it from me and rubbing my hands, I badethem take their grammars, some slight change did pass over her airand mien, as though she now relinquished a faint prospect of pleasantexcitement; she had been waiting for something to be discussed in whichshe had a degree of interest; the discussion was not to come on, soexpectation sank back, shrunk and sad, but attention, promptly fillingup the void, repaired in a moment the transient collapse of feature;still, I felt, rather than saw, during the whole course of the lesson, that a hope had been wrenched from her, and that if she did not showdistress, it was because she would not. 

At four o'clock, when the bell rang and the room was in immediatetumult, instead of taking my hat and starting from the estrade, I satstill a moment. I looked at Frances, she was putting her books into hercabas; having fastened the button, she raised her head; encountering myeye, she made a quiet, respectful obeisance, as bidding good afternoon, and was turning to depart:--

"Come here, " said I, lifting my finger at the same time. She hesitated;she could not hear the words amidst the uproar now pervading bothschool-rooms; I repeated the sign; she approached; again she pausedwithin half a yard of the estrade, and looked shy, and still doubtfulwhether she had mistaken my meaning. 

"Step up, " I said, speaking with decision. It is the only way of dealingwith diffident, easily embarrassed characters, and with some slightmanual aid I presently got her placed just where I wanted her to be, that is, between my desk and the window, where she was screened from therush of the second division, and where no one could sneak behind her tolisten. 

"Take a seat, " I said, placing a tabouret; and I made her sit down. Iknew what I was doing would be considered a very strange thing, and, what was more, I did not care. Frances knew it also, and, I fear, by anappearance of agitation and trembling, that she cared much. I drew frommy pocket the rolled-up devoir. 

"This it, yours, I suppose?" said I, addressing her in English, for Inow felt sure she could speak English. 

"Yes, " she answered distinctly; and as I unrolled it and laid it outflat on the desk before her with my hand upon it, and a pencil in thathand, I saw her moved, and, as it were, kindled; her depression beamedas a cloud might behind which the sun is burning. 

"This devoir has numerous faults, " said I. "It will take you some yearsof careful study before you are in a condition to write English withabsolute correctness. Attend: I will point out some principal defects. "And I went through it carefully, noting every error, and demonstratingwhy they were errors, and how the words or phrases ought to have beenwritten. In the course of this sobering process she became calm. I nowwent on:

"As to the substance of your devoir, Mdlle. Henri, it has surprised me;I perused it with pleasure, because I saw in it some proofs of taste andfancy. Taste and fancy are not the highest gifts of the human mind, butsuch as they are you possess them--not probably in a paramount degree, but in a degree beyond what the majority can boast. You may then takecourage; cultivate the faculties that God and nature have bestowed onyou, and do not fear in any crisis of suffering, under any pressure ofinjustice, to derive free and full consolation from the consciousness oftheir strength and rarity. "

"Strength and rarity!" I repeated to myself; "ay, the words are probablytrue, " for on looking up, I saw the sun had dissevered its screeningcloud, her countenance was transfigured, a smile shone in her eyes--asmile almost triumphant; it seemed to say--

"I am glad you have been forced to discover so much of my nature; youneed not so carefully moderate your language. Do you think I am myself astranger to myself? What you tell me in terms so qualified, I have knownfully from a child. "

She did say this as plainly as a frank and flashing glance could, butin a moment the glow of her complexion, the radiance of her aspect, had subsided; if strongly conscious of her talents, she was equallyconscious of her harassing defects, and the remembrance of theseobliterated for a single second, now reviving with sudden force, at oncesubdued the too vivid characters in which her sense of her powers hadbeen expressed. So quick was the revulsion of feeling, I had not time tocheck her triumph by reproof; ere I could contract my brows to a frownshe had become serious and almost mournful-looking. 

"Thank you, sir, " said she, rising. There was gratitude both in hervoice and in the look with which she accompanied it. It was time, indeed, for our conference to terminate; for, when I glanced around, behold all the boarders (the day-scholars had departed) were congregatedwithin a yard or two of my desk, and stood staring with eyes and mouthswide open; the three maitresses formed a whispering knot in one corner, and, close at my elbow, was the directress, sitting on a low chair, calmly clipping the tassels of her finished purse. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

AFTER all I had profited but imperfectly by the opportunity I had soboldly achieved of speaking to Mdlle. Henri; it was my intention to askher how she came to be possessed of two English baptismal names, Francesand Evans, in addition to her French surname, also whence she derivedher good accent. I had forgotten both points, or, rather, our colloquyhad been so brief that I had not had time to bring them forward;moreover, I had not half tested her powers of speaking English; all Ihad drawn from her in that language were the words "Yes, " and "Thankyou, sir. " "No matter, " I reflected. "What has been left incomplete now, shall be finished another day. " Nor did I fail to keep the promise thusmade to myself. It was difficult to get even a few words of particularconversation with one pupil among so many; but, according to the oldproverb, "Where there is a will, there is a way;" and again and againI managed to find an opportunity for exchanging a few words with Mdlle. Henri, regardless that envy stared and detraction whispered whenever Iapproached her. 

"Your book an instant. " Such was the mode in which I often began thesebrief dialogues; the time was always just at the conclusion of thelesson; and motioning to her to rise, I installed myself in her place, allowing her to stand deferentially at my side; for I esteemed it wiseand right in her case to enforce strictly all forms ordinarily inuse between master and pupil; the rather because I perceived that inproportion as my manner grew austere and magisterial, hers became easyand self-possessed--an odd contradiction, doubtless, to the ordinaryeffect in such cases; but so it was. 

"A pencil, " said I, holding out my hand without looking at her. (I amnow about to sketch a brief report of the first of these conferences. )She gave me one, and while I underlined some errors in a grammaticalexercise she had written, I observed--

"You are not a native of Belgium?"

"No. "

"Nor of France?"

"No. "

"Where, then, is your birthplace?"

"I was born at Geneva. "

"You don't call Frances and Evans Swiss names, I presume?"

"No, sir; they are English names. "

"Just so; and is it the custom of the Genevese to give their childrenEnglish appellatives?"

"Non, Monsieur; mais--"

"Speak English, if you please. "

"Mais--"

"English--"

"But" (slowly and with embarrassment) "my parents were not all the twoGenevese. "

"Say BOTH, instead of 'all the two, ' mademoiselle. "

"Not BOTH Swiss: my mother was English. "

"Ah! and of English extraction?"

"Yes--her ancestors were all English. "

"And your father?"

"He was Swiss. "

"What besides? What was his profession?"

"Ecclesiastic--pastor--he had a church. "

"Since your mother is an Englishwoman, why do you not speak English withmore facility?"

"Maman est morte, il y a dix ans. "

"And you do homage to her memory by forgetting her language. Have thegoodness to put French out of your mind so long as I converse withyou--keep to English. "

"C'est si difficile, monsieur, quand on n'en a plus l'habitude. "

"You had the habitude formerly, I suppose? Now answer me in your mothertongue. "

"Yes, sir, I spoke the English more than the French when I was a child. "

"Why do you not speak it now?"

"Because I have no English friends. "

"You live with your father, I suppose?"

"My father is dead. "

"You have brothers and sisters?"

"Not one. "

"Do you live alone?"

"No--I have an aunt--ma tante Julienne. "

"Your father's sister?"

"Justement, monsieur. "

"Is that English?"

"No--but I forget--"

"For which, mademoiselle, if you were a child I should certainly devisesome slight punishment; at your age--you must be two or three andtwenty, I should think?"

"Pas encore, monsieur--en un mois j'aurai dix-neuf ans. "

"Well, nineteen is a mature age, and, having attained it, you ought tobe so solicitous for your own improvement, that it should not be needfulfor a master to remind you twice of the expediency of your speakingEnglish whenever practicable. "

To this wise speech I received no answer; and, when I looked up, mypupil was smiling to herself a much-meaning, though not very gay smile;it seemed to say, "He talks of he knows not what:" it said thisso plainly, that I determined to request information on the pointconcerning which my ignorance seemed to be thus tacitly affirmed. 

"Are you solicitous for your own improvement?"

"Rather. "

"How do you prove it, mademoiselle?"

An odd question, and bluntly put; it excited a second smile. 

"Why, monsieur, I am not inattentive--am I? I learn my lessons well--"

"Oh, a child can do that! and what more do you do?"

"What more can I do?"

"Oh, certainly, not much; but you are a teacher, are you not, as well asa pupil?"

"Yes. "

"You teach lace-mending?"

"Yes. "

"A dull, stupid occupation; do you like it?"

"No--it is tedious. "

"Why do you pursue it? Why do you not rather teach history, geography, grammar, even arithmetic?"

"Is monsieur certain that I am myself thoroughly acquainted with thesestudies?"

"I don't know; you ought to be at your age. "

"But I never was at school, monsieur--"

"Indeed! What then were your friends--what was your aunt about? She isvery much to blame. "

"No monsieur, no--my aunt is good--she is not to blame--she does whatshe can; she lodges and nourishes me" (I report Mdlle. Henri's phrasesliterally, and it was thus she translated from the French). "She is notrich; she has only an annuity of twelve hundred francs, and it would beimpossible for her to send me to school. "

"Rather, " thought I to myself on hearing this, but I continued, in thedogmatical tone I had adopted:--

"It is sad, however, that you should be brought up in ignorance of themost ordinary branches of education; had you known something of historyand grammar you might, by degrees, have relinquished your lace-mendingdrudgery, and risen in the world. "

"It is what I mean to do. "

"How? By a knowledge of English alone? That will not suffice; norespectable family will receive a governess whose whole stock ofknowledge consists in a familiarity with one foreign language. "

"Monsieur, I know other things. "

"Yes, yes, you can work with Berlin wools, and embroider handkerchiefsand collars--that will do little for you. "

Mdlle. Henri's lips were unclosed to answer, but she checked herself, as thinking the discussion had been sufficiently pursued, and remainedsilent. 

"Speak, " I continued, impatiently; "I never like the appearance ofacquiescence when the reality is not there; and you had a contradictionat your tongue's end. "

"Monsieur, I have had many lessons both in grammar, history, geography, and arithmetic. I have gone through a course of each study. "

"Bravo! but how did you manage it, since your aunt could not afford losend you to school?"

"By lace-mending; by the thing monsieur despises so much. "

"Truly! And now, mademoiselle, it will be a good exercise for you toexplain to me in English how such a result was produced by such means. "

"Monsieur, I begged my aunt to have me taught lace-mending soon afterwe came to Brussels, because I knew it was a METIER, a trade which waseasily learnt, and by which I could earn some money very soon. I learntit in a few days, and I quickly got work, for all the Brussels ladieshave old lace--very precious--which must be mended all the times it iswashed. I earned money a little, and this money I grave for lessonsin the studies I have mentioned; some of it I spent in buying books, English books especially; soon I shall try to find a place of governess, or school-teacher, when I can write and speak English well; but it willbe difficult, because those who know I have been a lace-mender willdespise me, as the pupils here despise me. Pourtant j'ai mon projet, "she added in a lower tone. 

"What is it?"

"I will go and live in England; I will teach French there. "

The words were pronounced emphatically. She said "England" as you mightsuppose an Israelite of Moses' days would have said Canaan. 

"Have you a wish to see England?"

"Yes, and an intention. "

And here a voice, the voice of the directress, interposed:

"Mademoiselle Henri, je crois qu'il va pleuvoir; vous feriez bien, mabonne amie, de retourner chez vous tout de suite. "

In silence, without a word of thanks for this officious warning, Mdlle. Henri collected her books; she moved to me respectfully, endeavoured tomove to her superior, though the endeavour was almost a failure, for herhead seemed as if it would not bend, and thus departed. 

Where there is one grain of perseverance or wilfulness in thecomposition, trifling obstacles are ever known rather to stimulate thandiscourage. Mdlle. Reuter might as well have spared herself the troubleof giving that intimation about the weather (by-the-by her predictionwas falsified by the event--it did not rain that evening). At the closeof the next lesson I was again at Mdlle. Henri's desk. Thus did I accosther:--

"What is your idea of England, mademoiselle? Why do you wish to gothere?"

Accustomed by this time to the calculated abruptness of my manner, it nolonger discomposed or surprised her, and she answered with only somuch of hesitation as was rendered inevitable by the difficulty sheexperienced in improvising the translation of her thoughts from Frenchto English. 

"England is something unique, as I have heard and read; my idea of it isvague, and I want to go there to render my idea clear, definite. "

"Hum! How much of England do you suppose you could see if you went therein the capacity of a teacher? A strange notion you must have of gettinga clear and definite idea of a country! All you could see of GreatBritain would be the interior of a school, or at most of one or twoprivate dwellings. "

"It would be an English school; they would be English dwellings. "

"Indisputably; but what then? What would be the value of observationsmade on a scale so narrow?"

"Monsieur, might not one learn something by analogy?An-echantillon--a--a sample often serves to give an idea of the whole;besides, narrow and wide are words comparative, are they not? All mylife would perhaps seem narrow in your eyes--all the life of a--thatlittle animal subterranean--une taupe--comment dit-on?"

"Mole. "

"Yes--a mole, which lives underground would seem narrow even to me. "

"Well, mademoiselle--what then? Proceed. "

"Mais, monsieur, vous me comprenez. "

"Not in the least; have the goodness to explain. "

"Why, monsieur, it is just so. In Switzerland I have done but little, learnt but little, and seen but little; my life there was in a circle;I walked the same round every day; I could not get out of it; had Irested--remained there even till my death, I should never have enlargedit, because I am poor and not skilful, I have not great acquirements;when I was quite tired of this round, I begged my aunt to go toBrussels; my existence is no larger here, because I am no richer orhigher; I walk in as narrow a limit, but the scene is changed; it wouldchange again if I went to England. I knew something of the bourgeois ofGeneva, now I know something of the bourgeois of Brussels; if I went toLondon, I would know something of the bourgeois of London. Can you makeany sense out of what I say, monsieur, or is it all obscure?"

"I see, I see--now let us advert to another subject; you propose todevote your life to teaching, and you are a most unsuccessful teacher;you cannot keep your pupils in order. "

A flush of painful confusion was the result of this harsh remark; shebent her head to the desk, but soon raising it replied--

"Monsieur, I am not a skilful teacher, it is true, but practiceimproves; besides, I work under difficulties; here I only teach sewing, I can show no power in sewing, no superiority--it is a subordinateart; then I have no associates in this house, I am isolated; I am too aheretic, which deprives me of influence. "

"And in England you would be a foreigner; that too would deprive youof influence, and would effectually separate you from all round you; inEngland you would have as few connections, as little importance as youhave here. "

"But I should be learning something; for the rest, there are probablydifficulties for such as I everywhere, and if I must contend, andperhaps: be conquered, I would rather submit to English pride than toFlemish coarseness; besides, monsieur--"

She stopped--not evidently from any difficulty in finding words toexpress herself, but because discretion seemed to say, "You have saidenough. "

"Finish your phrase, " I urged. 

"Besides, monsieur, I long to live once more among Protestants; they aremore honest than Catholics; a Romish school is a building with porouswalls, a hollow floor, a false ceiling; every room in this house, monsieur, has eyeholes and ear-holes, and what the house is, theinhabitants are, very treacherous; they all think it lawful to telllies; they all call it politeness to profess friendship where they feelhatred. "

"All?" said I; "you mean the pupils--the mere children--inexperienced, giddy things, who have not learnt to distinguish the difference betweenright and wrong?"

"On the contrary, monsieur--the children are the most sincere; they havenot yet had time to become accomplished in duplicity; they will telllies, but they do it inartificially, and you know they are lying; butthe grown-up people are very false; they deceive strangers, they deceiveeach other--"

A servant here entered:--

"Mdlle. Henri--Mdlle. Reuter vous prie de vouloir bien conduire lapetite de Dorlodot chez elle, elle vous attend dans le cabinetde Rosalie la portiere--c'est que sa bonne n'est pas venue lachercher--voyez-vous. "

"Eh bien! est-ce que je suis sa bonne--moi?" demanded Mdlle. Henri; thensmiling, with that same bitter, derisive smile I had seen on her lipsonce before, she hastily rose and made her exit. 

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 end 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. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

NOVELISTS should never allow themselves to weary of the study of reallife. If they observed this duty conscientiously, they would give usfewer pictures chequered with vivid contrasts of light and shade;they would seldom elevate their heroes and heroines to the heights ofrapture--still seldomer sink them to the depths of despair; for if werarely taste the fulness of joy in this life, we yet more rarely savourthe acrid bitterness of hopeless anguish; unless, indeed, we haveplunged like beasts into sensual indulgence, abused, strained, stimulated, again overstrained, and, at last, destroyed our facultiesfor enjoyment; then, truly, we may find ourselves without support, robbed of hope. Our agony is great, and how can it end? We have brokenthe spring of our powers; life must be all suffering--too feeble toconceive faith--death must be darkness--God, spirits, religion can haveno place in our collapsed minds, where linger only hideous and pollutingrecollections of vice; and time brings us on to the brink of the grave, and dissolution flings us in--a rag eaten through and through withdisease, wrung together with pain, stamped into the churchyard sod bythe inexorable heel of despair. 

But the man of regular life and rational mind never despairs. He loseshis property--it is a blow--he staggers a moment; then, his energies, roused by the smart, are at work to seek a remedy; activity soonmitigates regret. Sickness affects him; he takes patience--endures whathe cannot cure. Acute pain racks him; his writhing limbs know not whereto find rest; he leans on Hope's anchors. Death takes from him whathe loves; roots up, and tears violently away the stem round which hisaffections were twined--a dark, dismal time, a frightful wrench--butsome morning Religion looks into his desolate house with sunrise, andsays, that in another world, another life, he shall meet his kindredagain. She speaks of that world as a place unsullied by sin--of thatlife, as an era unembittered by suffering; she mightily strengthensher consolation by connecting with it two ideas--which mortals cannotcomprehend, but on which they love to repose--Eternity, Immortality; andthe mind of the mourner, being filled with an image, faint yet glorious, of heavenly hills all light and peace--of a spirit resting there inbliss--of a day when his spirit shall also alight there, free anddisembodied--of a reunion perfected by love, purified from fear--hetakes courage--goes out to encounter the necessities and discharge theduties of life; and, though sadness may never lift her burden from hismind, Hope will enable him to support it. 

Well--and what suggested all this? and what is the inference to be drawntherefrom? What suggested it, is the circumstance of my best pupil--mytreasure--being snatched from my hands, and put away out of my reach;the inference to be drawn from it is--that, being a steady, reasonableman, I did not allow the resentment, disappointment, and grief, engendered in my mind by this evil chance, to grow there to anymonstrous size; nor did I allow them to monopolize the whole space of myheart; I pent them, on the contrary, in one strait and secret nook. Inthe daytime, too, when I was about my duties, I put them on the silentsystem; and it was only after I had closed the door of my chamberat night that I somewhat relaxed my severity towards these morosenurslings, and allowed vent to their language of murmurs; then, inrevenge, they sat on my pillow, haunted my bed, and kept me awake withtheir long, midnight cry. 

A week passed. I had said nothing more to Mdlle. Reuter. I had been calmin my demeanour to her, though stony cold and hard. When I looked ather, it was with the glance fitting to be bestowed on one who I knewhad consulted jealousy as an adviser, and employed treachery as aninstrument--the glance of quiet disdain and rooted distrust. On Saturdayevening, ere I left the house, I stept into the SALLE-A-MANGER, whereshe was sitting alone, and, placing myself before her, I asked, withthe same tranquil tone and manner that I should have used had I put thequestion for the first time--

"Mademoiselle, will you have the goodness to give me the address ofFrances Evans Henri?"

A little surprised, but not disconcerted, she smilingly disclaimed anyknowledge of that address, adding, "Monsieur has perhaps forgotten thatI explained all about that circumstance before--a week ago?"

"Mademoiselle, " I continued, "you would greatly oblige me by directingme to that young person's abode. "

She seemed somewhat puzzled; and, at last, looking up with an admirablycounterfeited air of naivete, she demanded, "Does Monsieur think I amtelling an untruth?"

Still avoiding to give her a direct answer, I said, "It is not then yourintention, mademoiselle, to oblige me in this particular?"

"But, monsieur, how can I tell you what I do not know?"

"Very well; I understand you perfectly, mademoiselle, and now I haveonly two or three words to say. This is the last week in July; inanother month the vacation will commence, have the goodness to availyourself of the leisure it will afford you to look out for anotherEnglish master--at the close of August, I shall be under the necessityof resigning my post in your establishment. "

I did not wait for her comments on this announcement, but bowed andimmediately withdrew. 

That same evening, soon after dinner, a servant brought me a smallpacket; it was directed in a hand I knew, but had not hoped so soon tosee again; being in my own apartment and alone, there was nothing toprevent my immediately opening it; it contained four five-franc pieces, and a note in English. 

"MONSIEUR, "I came to Mdlle. Reuter's house yesterday, at the time whenI knew you would be just about finishing your lesson, and I asked if Imight go into the schoolroom and speak to you. Mdlle. Reuter came outand said you were already gone; it had not yet struck four, so I thoughtshe must be mistaken, but concluded it would be vain to call another dayon the same errand. In one sense a note will do as well--it will wrap upthe 20 francs, the price of the lessons I have received from you; and ifit will not fully express the thanks I owe you in addition--if it willnot bid you good-bye as I could wish to have done--if it will not tellyou, as I long to do, how sorry I am that I shall probably never see youmore--why, spoken words would hardly be more adequate to the task. HadI seen you, I should probably have stammered out something feeble andunsatisfactory--something belying my feelings rather than explainingthem; so it is perhaps as well that I was denied admission to yourpresence. You often remarked, monsieur, that my devoirs dwelt a greatdeal on fortitude in bearing grief--you said I introduced that theme toooften: I find indeed that it is much easier to write about a severe dutythan to perform it, for I am oppressed when I see and feel to what areverse fate has condemned me; you were kind to me, monsieur--very kind;I am afflicted--I am heart-broken to be quite separated from you; soonI shall have no friend on earth. But it is useless troubling you with mydistresses. What claim have I on your sympathy? None; I will then say nomore. 

"Farewell, Monsieur. 

"F. E. HENRI. "

I put up the note in my pocket-book. I slipped the five-franc piecesinto my purse--then I took a turn through my narrow chamber. 

"Mdlle. Reuter talked about her poverty, " said I, "and she is poor;yet she pays her debts and more. I have not yet given her a quarter'slessons, and she has sent me a quarter's due. I wonder of what shedeprived herself to scrape together the twenty francs--I wonder whatsort of a place she has to live in, and what sort of a woman her auntis, and whether she is likely to get employment to supply the place shehas lost. No doubt she will have to trudge about long enough from schoolto school, to inquire here, and apply there--be rejected in this place, disappointed in that. Many an evening she'll go to her bed tiredand unsuccessful. And the directress would not let her in to bid megood-bye? I might not have the chance of standing with her for a fewminutes at a window in the schoolroom and exchanging some half-dozen ofsentences--getting to know where she lived--putting matters in trainfor having all things arranged to my mind? No address on the note"--Icontinued, drawing it again from the pocket-book and examining it oneach side of the two leaves: "women are women, that is certain, andalways do business like women; men mechanically put a date and addressto their communications. And these five-franc pieces?"--(I hauled themforth from my purse)--"if she had offered me them herself instead oftying them up with a thread of green silk in a kind of Lilliputianpacket, I could have thrust them back into her little hand, and shutup the small, taper fingers over them--so--and compelled her shame, herpride, her shyness, all to yield to a little bit of determined Will--nowwhere is she? How can I get at her?"

Opening my chamber door I walked down into the kitchen. 

"Who brought the packet?" I asked of the servant who had delivered it tome. 

"Un petit commissionaire, monsieur. "

"Did he say anything?"

"Rien. "

And I wended my way up the back-stairs, wondrously the wiser for myinquiries. 

"No matter, " said I to myself, as I again closed the door. "Nomatter--I'll seek her through Brussels. "

And I did. I sought her day by day whenever I had a moment's leisure, for four weeks; I sought her on Sundays all day long; I sought her onthe Boulevards, in the Allee Verte, in the Park; I sought her in Ste. Gudule and St. Jacques; I sought her in the two Protestant chapels; Iattended these latter at the German, French, and English services, notdoubting that I should meet her at one of them. All my researches wereabsolutely fruitless; my security on the last point was proved by theevent to be equally groundless with my other calculations. I stoodat the door of each chapel after the service, and waited till everyindividual had come out, scrutinizing every gown draping a slender form, peering under every bonnet covering a young head. In vain; I sawgirlish figures pass me, drawing their black scarfs over their slopingshoulders, but none of them had the exact turn and air of Mdlle. Henri's; I saw pale and thoughtful faces "encadrees" in bands of brownhair, but I never found her forehead, her eyes, her eyebrows. All thefeatures of all the faces I met seemed frittered away, because my eyefailed to recognize the peculiarities it was bent upon; an ample spaceof brow and a large, dark, and serious eye, with a fine but decided lineof eyebrow traced above. 

"She has probably left Brussels--perhaps is gone to England, as shesaid she would, " muttered I inwardly, as on the afternoon of the fourthSunday, I turned from the door of the chapel-royal which the door-keeperhad just closed and locked, and followed in the wake of the last of thecongregation, now dispersed and dispersing over the square. I hadsoon outwalked the couples of English gentlemen and ladies. (Graciousgoodness! why don't they dress better? My eye is yet filled with visionsof the high-flounced, slovenly, and tumbled dresses in costly silk andsatin, of the large unbecoming collars in expensive lace; of the ill-cutcoats and strangely fashioned pantaloons which every Sunday, at theEnglish service, filled the choirs of the chapel-royal, and after it, issuing forth into the square, came into disadvantageous contrast withfreshly and trimly attired foreign figures, hastening to attend salutat the church of Coburg. ) I had passed these pairs of Britons, andthe groups of pretty British children, and the British footmen andwaiting-maids; I had crossed the Place Royale, and got into the RueRoyale, thence I had diverged into the Rue de Louvain--an old and quietstreet. I remember that, feeling a little hungry, and not desiring togo back and take my share of the "gouter, " now on the refectory-tableat Pelet's--to wit, pistolets and water--I stepped into a baker's andrefreshed myself on a COUC(?)--it is a Flemish word, I don't know howto spell it--A CORINTHE-ANGLICE, a currant bun--and a cup of coffee; andthen I strolled on towards the Porte de Louvain. Very soon I was out ofthe city, and slowly mounting the hill, which ascends from the gate, Itook my time; for the afternoon, though cloudy, was very sultry, and nota breeze stirred to refresh the atmosphere. No inhabitant of Brusselsneed wander far to search for solitude; let him but move half a leaguefrom his own city and he will find her brooding still and blank overthe wide fields, so drear though so fertile, spread out treeless andtrackless round the capital of Brabant. Having gained the summit of thehill, and having stood and looked long over the cultured but lifelesscampaign, I felt a wish to quit the high road, which I had hithertofollowed, and get in among those tilled grounds--fertile as the bedsof a Brobdignagian kitchen-garden--spreading far and wide even to theboundaries of the horizon, where, from a dusk green, distance changedthem to a sullen blue, and confused their tints with those of the lividand thunderous-looking sky. Accordingly I turned up a by-path to theright; I had not followed it far ere it brought me, as I expected, intothe fields, amidst which, just before me, stretched a long and loftywhite wall enclosing, as it seemed from the foliage showing above, somethickly planted nursery of yew and cypress, for of that species werethe branches resting on the pale parapets, and crowding gloomily about amassive cross, planted doubtless on a central eminence and extending itsarms, which seemed of black marble, over the summits of those sinistertrees. I approached, wondering to what house this well-protected gardenappertained; I turned the angle of the wall, thinking to see somestately residence; I was close upon great iron gates; there was ahut serving for a lodge near, but I had no occasion to apply for thekey--the gates were open; I pushed one leaf back--rain had rustedits hinges, for it groaned dolefully as they revolved. Thick plantingembowered the entrance. Passing up the avenue, I saw objects oneach hand which, in their own mute language of inscription and sign, explained clearly to what abode I had made my way. This was thehouse appointed for all living; crosses, monuments, and garlands ofeverlastings announced, "The Protestant Cemetery, outside the gate ofLouvain. "

The place was large enough to afford half an hour's strolling withoutthe monotony of treading continually the same path; and, for those wholove to peruse the annals of graveyards, here was variety of inscriptionenough to occupy the attention for double or treble that space of time. Hither people of many kindreds, tongues, and nations, had brought theirdead for interment; and here, on pages of stone, of marble, and ofbrass, were written names, dates, last tributes of pomp or love, inEnglish, in French, in German, and Latin. Here the Englishman haderected a marble monument over the remains of his Mary Smith or JaneBrown, and inscribed it only with her name. There the French widower hadshaded the grave: of his Elmire or Celestine with a brilliant thicketof roses, amidst which a little tablet rising, bore an equally brighttestimony to her countless virtues. Every nation, tribe, and kindred, mourned after its own fashion; and how soundless was the mourning ofall! My own tread, though slow and upon smooth-rolled paths, seemed tostartle, because it formed the sole break to a silence otherwise total. Not only the winds, but the very fitful, wandering airs, were thatafternoon, as by common consent, all fallen asleep in their variousquarters; the north was hushed, the south silent, the east sobbed not, nor did the west whisper. The clouds in heaven were condensed anddull, but apparently quite motionless. Under the trees of this cemeterynestled a warm breathless gloom, out of which the cypresses stood upstraight and mute, above which the willows hung low and still; wherethe flowers, as languid as fair, waited listless for night dew orthunder-shower; where the tombs, and those they hid, lay impassible tosun or shadow, to rain or drought. 

Importuned by the sound of my own footsteps, I turned off upon the turf, and slowly advanced to a grove of yews; I saw something stir among thestems; I thought it might be a broken branch swinging, my short-sightedvision had caught no form, only a sense of motion; but the dusky shadepassed on, appearing and disappearing at the openings in the avenue. Isoon discerned it was a living thing, and a human thing; and, drawingnearer, I perceived it was a woman, pacing slowly to and fro, andevidently deeming herself alone as I had deemed myself alone, andmeditating as I had been meditating. Ere long she returned to a seatwhich I fancy she had but just quitted, or I should have caught sightof her before. It was in a nook, screened by a clump of trees; there wasthe white wall before her, and a little stone set up against the wall, and, at the foot of the stone, was an allotment of turf freshly turnedup, a new-made grave. I put on my spectacles, and passed softly closebehind her; glancing at the inscription on the stone, I read, " JulienneHenri, died at Brussels, aged sixty. August 10th, 18--. " Having perusedthe inscription, I looked down at the form sitting bent and thoughtfuljust under my eyes, unconscious of the vicinity of any living thing; itwas a slim, youthful figure in mourning apparel of the plainest blackstuff, with a little simple, black crape bonnet; I felt, as well assaw, who it was; and, moving neither hand nor foot, I stood some momentsenjoying the security of conviction. I had sought her for a month, andhad never discovered one of her traces--never met a hope, or seizeda chance of encountering her anywhere. I had been forced to loosen mygrasp on expectation; and, but an hour ago, had sunk slackly underthe discouraging thought that the current of life, and the impulseof destiny, had swept her for ever from my reach; and, behold, whilebending suddenly earthward beneath the pressure of despondency--whilefollowing with my eyes the track of sorrow on the turf of agraveyard--here was my lost jewel dropped on the tear-fed herbage, nestling in the messy and mouldy roots of yew-trees. 

Frances sat very quiet, her elbow on her knee, and her head on her hand. I knew she could retain a thinking attitude a long time without change;at last, a tear fell; she had been looking at the name on thestone before her, and her heart had no doubt endured one of thoseconstrictions with which the desolate living, regretting the dead, are, at times, so sorely oppressed. Many tears rolled down, which she wipedaway, again and again, with her handkerchief; some distressed sobsescaped her, and then, the paroxysm over, she sat quiet as before. I putmy hand gently on her shoulder; no need further to prepare her, forshe was neither hysterical nor liable to fainting-fits; a sudden push, indeed, might have startled her, but the contact of my quiet touchmerely woke attention as I wished; and, though she turned quickly, yetso lightning-swift is thought--in some minds especially--I believe thewonder of what--the consciousness of who it was that thus stole unawareson her solitude, had passed through her brain, and flashed into herheart, even before she had effected that hasty movement; at least, Amazement had hardly opened her eyes and raised them to mine, ereRecognition informed their irids with most speaking brightness. Nervoussurprise had hardly discomposed her features ere a sentiment of mostvivid joy shone clear and warm on her whole countenance. I had hardlytime to observe that she was wasted and pale, ere called to feel aresponsive inward pleasure by the sense of most full and exquisitepleasure glowing in the animated flush, and shining in the expansivelight, now diffused over my pupil's face. It was the summer sun flashingout after the heavy summer shower; and what fertilizes more rapidly thanthat beam, burning almost like fire in its ardour?

I hate boldness--that boldness which is of the brassy brow and insensatenerves; but I love the courage of the strong heart, the fervour of thegenerous blood; I loved with passion the light of Frances Evans' clearhazel eye when it did not fear to look straight into mine; I loved thetones with which she uttered the words--

"Mon maitre! mon maitre!"

I loved the movement with which she confided her hand to my hand; Iloved her as she stood there, penniless and parentless; for a sensualistcharmless, for me a treasure--my best object of sympathy on earth, thinking such thoughts as I thought, feeling such feelings as I felt; myideal of the shrine in which to seal my stores of love; personificationof discretion and forethought, of diligence and perseverance, ofself-denial and self-control--those guardians, those trusty keepers ofthe gift I longed to confer on her--the gift of all my affections;model of truth and honour, of independence and conscientiousness--thoserefiners and sustainers of an honest life; silent possessor of a wellof tenderness, of a flame, as genial as still, as pure as quenchless, of natural feeling, natural passion--those sources of refreshment andcomfort to the sanctuary of home. I knew how quietly and how deeply thewell bubbled in her heart; I knew how the more dangerous flame burnedsafely under the eye of reason; I had seen when the fire shot up amoment high and vivid, when the accelerated heat troubled life's currentin its channels; I had seen reason reduce the rebel, and humble itsblaze to embers. I had confidence in Frances Evans; I had respectfor her, and as I drew her arm through mine, and led her out of thecemetery, I felt I had another sentiment, as strong as confidence, asfirm as respect, more fervid than either--that of love. 

"Well, my pupil, " said I, as the ominous sounding gate swung to behindus--"Well, I have found you again: a month's search has seemed long, and I little thought to have discovered my lost sheep straying amongstgraves. "

Never had I addressed her but as "Mademoiselle" before, and to speakthus was to take up a tone new to both her and me. Her answer suprisedme that this language ruffled none of her feelings, woke no discord inher heart:

"Mon maitre, " she said, "have you troubled yourself to seek me? I littleimagined you would think much of my absence, but I grieved bitterly tobe taken away from you. I was sorry for that circumstance when heaviertroubles ought to have made me forget it. "

"Your aunt is dead?"

"Yes, a fortnight since, and she died full of regret, which I could notchase from her mind; she kept repeating, even during the last nightof her existence, 'Frances, you will be so lonely when I am gone, so friendless:' she wished too that she could have been buried inSwitzerland, and it was I who persuaded her in her old age to leave thebanks of Lake Leman, and to come, only as it seems to die, in this flatregion of Flanders. Willingly would I have observed her last wish, andtaken her remains back to our own country, but that was impossible; Iwas forced to lay her here. "

"She was ill but a short time, I presume?"

"But three weeks. When she began to sink I asked Mdlle. Reuter's leaveto stay with her and wait on her; I readily got leave. "

"Do you return to the pensionnat!" I demanded hastily. 

"Monsieur, when I had been at home a week Mdlle. Reuter called oneevening, just after I had got my aunt to bed; she went into her roomto speak to her, and was extremely civil and affable, as she always is;afterwards she came and sat with me a long time, and just as she rose togo away, she said: "Mademoiselle, I shall not soon cease to regret yourdeparture from my establishment, though indeed it is true that you havetaught your class of pupils so well that they are all quite accomplishedin the little works you manage so skilfully, and have not the slightestneed of further instruction; my second teacher must in future supplyyour place, with regard to the younger pupils, as well as she can, though she is indeed an inferior artiste to you, and doubtless it willbe your part now to assume a higher position in your calling; I am sureyou will everywhere find schools and families willing to profit by yourtalents. ' And then she paid me my last quarter's salary. I asked, asmademoiselle would no doubt think, very bluntly, if she designed todischarge me from the establishment. She smiled at my inelegance ofspeech, and answered that 'our connection as employer and employed wascertainly dissolved, but that she hoped still to retain the pleasure ofmy acquaintance; she should always be happy to see me as a friend;' andthen she said something about the excellent condition of the streets, and the long continuance of fine weather, and went away quite cheerful. "

I laughed inwardly; all this was so like the directress--so like what Ihad expected and guessed of her conduct; and then the exposure and proofof her lie, unconsciously afforded by Frances:--"She had frequentlyapplied for Mdlle. Henri's address, " forsooth; "Mdlle. Henri had alwaysevaded giving it, " &c. , &c. , and here I found her a visitor at the veryhouse of whose locality she had professed absolute ignorance!

Any comments I might have intended to make on my pupil's communication, were checked by the plashing of large rain-drops on our faces and on thepath, and by the muttering of a distant but coming storm. The warningobvious in stagnant air and leaden sky had already induced me to takethe road leading back to Brussels, and now I hastened my own steps andthose of my companion, and, as our way lay downhill, we got on rapidly. There was an interval after the fall of the first broad drops beforeheavy rain came on; in the meantime we had passed through the Porte deLouvain, and were again in the city. 

"Where do you live?" I asked; "I will see you safe home. "

"Rue Notre Dame aux Neiges, " answered Frances. 

It was not far from the Rue de Louvain, and we stood on the doorstepsof the house we sought ere the clouds, severing with loud peal andshattered cataract of lightning, emptied their livid folds in a torrent, heavy, prone, and broad. 

"Come in! come in!" said Frances, as, after putting her into the house, I paused ere I followed: the word decided me; I stepped across thethreshold, shut the door on the rushing, flashing, whitening storm, andfollowed her upstairs to her apartments. Neither she nor I were wet; aprojection over the door had warded off the straight-descending flood;none but the first, large drops had touched our garments; one minutemore and we should not have had a dry thread on us. 

Stepping over a little mat of green wool, I found myself in a small roomwith a painted floor and a square of green carpet in the middle; thearticles of furniture were few, but all bright and exquisitely clean;order reigned through its narrow limits--such order as it soothed mypunctilious soul to behold. And I had hesitated to enter the abode, because I apprehended after all that Mdlle. Reuter's hint about itsextreme poverty might be too well-founded, and I feared to embarrass thelace-mender by entering her lodgings unawares! Poor the place might be;poor truly it was; but its neatness was better than elegance, and hadbut a bright little fire shone on that clean hearth, I should havedeemed it more attractive than a palace. No fire was there, however, andno fuel laid ready to light; the lace-mender was unable to allow herselfthat indulgence, especially now when, deprived by death of her solerelative, she had only her own unaided exertions to rely on. Franceswent into an inner room to take off her bonnet, and she came out amodel of frugal neatness, with her well-fitting black stuff dress, soaccurately defining her elegant bust and taper waist, with her spotlesswhite collar turned back from a fair and shapely neck, with herplenteous brown hair arranged in smooth bands on her temples, and ina large Grecian plait behind: ornaments she had none--neither brooch, ring, nor ribbon; she did well enough without them--perfection of fit, proportion of form, grace of carriage, agreeably supplied their place. Her eye, as she re-entered the small sitting-room, instantly soughtmine, which was just then lingering on the hearth; I knew she read atonce the sort of inward ruth and pitying pain which the chill vacancy ofthat hearth stirred in my soul: quick to penetrate, quick to determine, and quicker to put in practice, she had in a moment tied a holland apronround her waist; then she disappeared, and reappeared with a basket;it had a cover; she opened it, and produced wood and coal; deftly andcompactly she arranged them in the grate. 

"It is her whole stock, and she will exhaust it out of hospitality, "thought I. 

"What are you going to do?" I asked: "not surely to light a fire thishot evening? I shall be smothered. "

"Indeed, monsieur, I feel it very chilly since the rain began; besides, I must boil the water for my tea, for I take tea on Sundays; you will beobliged to try and bear the heat. "

She had struck a light; the wood was already in a blaze; and truly, whencontrasted with the darkness, the wild tumult of the tempest without, that peaceful glow which began to beam on the now animated hearth, seemed very cheering. A low, purring sound, from some quarter, announcedthat another being, besides myself, was pleased with the change; ablack cat, roused by the light from its sleep on a little cushionedfoot-stool, came and rubbed its head against Frances' gown as she knelt;she caressed it, saying it had been a favourite with her "pauvre tanteJulienne. "

The fire being lit, the hearth swept, and a small kettle of a veryantique pattern, such as I thought I remembered to have seen in oldfarmhouses in England, placed over the now ruddy flame, Frances' handswere washed, and her apron removed in an instant then she opened acupboard, and took out a tea-tray, on which she had soon arranged achina tea-equipage, whose pattern, shape, and size, denoted a remoteantiquity; a little, old-fashioned silver spoon was deposited in eachsaucer; and a pair of silver tongs, equally old-fashioned, were laidon the sugar-basin; from the cupboard, too, was produced a tidysilver cream-ewer, not larger then an egg-shell. While making thesepreparations, she chanced to look up, and, reading curiosity in my eyes, she smiled and asked--

"Is this like England, monsieur?"

"Like the England of a hundred years ago, " I replied. 

"Is it truly? Well, everything on this tray is at least a hundredyears old: these cups, these spoons, this ewer, are all heirlooms; mygreat-grandmother left them to my grandmother, she to my mother, and mymother brought them with her from England to Switzerland, and left themto me; and, ever since I was a little girl, I have thought I should liketo carry them back to England, whence they came. "

She put some pistolets on the table; she made the tea, as foreigners domake tea--i. E. , at the rate of a teaspoonful to half-a-dozen cups;she placed me a chair, and, as I took it, she asked, with a sort ofexaltation--

"Will it make you think yourself at home for a moment?"

"If I had a home in England, I believe it would recall it, " Ianswered; and, in truth, there was a sort of illusion in seeing thefair-complexioned English-looking girl presiding at the English meal, and speaking in the English language. 

"You have then no home?" was her remark. 

"None, nor ever have had. If ever I possess a home, it must be of my ownmaking, and the task is yet to begin. " And, as I spoke, a pang, new tome, shot across my heart: it was a pang of mortification at the humilityof my position, and the inadequacy of my means; while with that pang wasborn a strong desire to do more, earn more, be more, possess more;and in the increased possessions, my roused and eager spirit panted toinclude the home I had never had, the wife I inwardly vowed to win. 

Frances' tea was little better than hot water, sugar, and milk; and herpistolets, with which she could not offer me butter, were sweet to mypalate as manna. 

The repast over, and the treasured plate and porcelain being washed andput by, the bright table rubbed still brighter, "le chat de ma tanteJulienne" also being fed with provisions brought forth on a plate forits special use, a few stray cinders, and a scattering of ashes too, being swept from the hearth, Frances at last sat down; and then, as shetook a chair opposite to me, she betrayed, for the first time, a littleembarrassment; and no wonder, for indeed I had unconsciously watchedher rather too closely, followed all her steps and all her movementsa little too perseveringly with my eyes, for she mesmerized me bythe grace and alertness of her action--by the deft, cleanly, and evendecorative effect resulting from each touch of her slight and finefingers; and when, at last, she subsided to stillness, the intelligenceof her face seemed beauty to me, and I dwelt on it accordingly. Hercolour, however, rising, rather than settling with repose, and her eyesremaining downcast, though I kept waiting for the lids to be raised thatI might drink a ray of the light I loved--a light where fire dissolvedin softness, where affection tempered penetration, where, just nowat least, pleasure played with thought--this expectation not beinggratified, I began at last to suspect that I had probably myself toblame for the disappointment; I must cease gazing, and begin talking, if I wished to break the spell under which she now sat motionless; sorecollecting the composing effect which an authoritative tone and mannerhad ever been wont to produce on her, I said--

"Get one of your English books, mademoiselle, for the rain yet fallsheavily, and will probably detain me half an hour longer. "

Released, and set at ease, up she rose, got her book, and accepted atonce the chair I placed for her at my side. She had selected "ParadiseLost" from her shelf of classics, thinking, I suppose, the religiouscharacter of the book best adapted it to Sunday; I told her to begin atthe beginning, and while she read Milton's invocation to that heavenlymuse, who on the "secret top of Oreb or Sinai" had taught the Hebrewshepherd how in the womb of chaos, the conception of a world hadoriginated and ripened, I enjoyed, undisturbed, the treble pleasure ofhaving her near me, hearing the sound of her voice--a sound sweet andsatisfying in my ear--and looking, by intervals, at her face: of thislast privilege, I chiefly availed myself when I found fault with anintonation, a pause, or an emphasis; as long as I dogmatized, I mightalso gaze, without exciting too warm a flush. 

"Enough, " said I, when she had gone through some half dozen pages (awork of time with her, for she read slowly and paused often to ask andreceive information)--"enough; and now the rain is ceasing, and I mustsoon go. " For indeed, at that moment, looking towards the window, Isaw it all blue; the thunder-clouds were broken and scattered, and thesetting August sun sent a gleam like the reflection of rubies throughthe lattice. I got up; I drew on my gloves. 

"You have not yet found another situation to supply the place of thatfrom which you were dismissed by Mdlle. Reuter?"

"No, monsieur; I have made inquiries everywhere, but they all ask mefor references; and to speak truth, I do not like to apply to thedirectress, because I consider she acted neither justly nor honourablytowards me; she used underhand means to set my pupils against me, andthereby render me unhappy while I held my place in her establishment, and she eventually deprived me of it by a masked and hypocriticalmanoeuvre, pretending that she was acting for my good, but reallysnatching from me my chief means of subsistence, at a crisis when notonly my own life, but that of another, depended on my exertions: of herI will never more ask a favour. "

"How, then, do you propose to get on? How do you live now?"

"I have still my lace-mending trade; with care it will keep me fromstarvation, and I doubt not by dint of exertion to get better employmentyet; it is only a fortnight since I began to try; my courage or hopesare by no means worn out yet. "

"And if you get what you wish, what then? what are your ultimate views?"

"To save enough to cross the Channel: I always look to England as myCanaan. "

"Well, well--ere long I shall pay you another visit; good evening now, "and I left her rather abruptly; I had much ado to resist a strong inwardimpulse, urging me to take a warmer, more expressive leave: what sonatural as to fold her for a moment in a close embrace, to imprint onekiss on her cheek or forehead? I was not unreasonable--that was all Iwanted; satisfied in that point, I could go away content; and Reasondenied me even this; she ordered me to turn my eyes from her face, andmy steps from her apartment--to quit her as dryly and coldly as I wouldhave quitted old Madame Pelet. I obeyed, but I swore rancorously to beavenged one day. "I'll earn a right to do as I please in this matter, or I'll die in the contest. I have one object before me now--to get thatGenevese girl for my wife; and my wife she shall be--that is, providedshe has as much, or half as much regard for her master as he hasfor her. And would she be so docile, so smiling, so happy under myinstructions if she had not? would she sit at my side when I dictateor correct, with such a still, contented, halcyon mien?" for I had everremarked, that however sad or harassed her countenance might be whenI entered a room, yet after I had been near her, spoken to her a fewwords, given her some directions, uttered perhaps some reproofs, shewould, all at once, nestle into a nook of happiness, and look up sereneand revived. The reproofs suited her best of all: while I scolded shewould chip away with her pen-knife at a pencil or a pen; fidgetting alittle, pouting a little, defending herself by monosyllables, and when Ideprived her of the pen or pencil, fearing it would be all cut away, and when I interdicted even the monosyllabic defence, for the purposeof working up the subdued excitement a little higher, she would at lastraise her eyes and give me a certain glance, sweetened with gaiety, andpointed with defiance, which, to speak truth, thrilled me as nothing hadever done, and made me, in a fashion (though happily she did not knowit), her subject, if not her slave. After such little scenes her spiritswould maintain their flow, often for some hours, and, as I remarkedbefore, her health therefrom took a sustenance and vigour which, previously to the event of her aunt's death and her dismissal, hadalmost recreated her whole frame. 

It has taken me several minutes to write these last sentences; but I hadthought all their purport during the brief interval of descending thestairs from Frances' room. Just as I was opening the outer door, I remembered the twenty francs which I had not restored; I paused:impossible to carry them away with me; difficult to force them backon their original owner; I had now seen her in her own humble abode, witnessed the dignity of her poverty, the pride of order, the fastidiouscare of conservatism, obvious in the arrangement and economy of herlittle home; I was sure she would not suffer herself to be excusedpaying her debts; I was certain the favour of indemnity would beaccepted from no hand, perhaps least of all from mine: yet these fourfive-franc pieces were a burden to my self-respect, and I must getrid of them. An expedient--a clumsy one no doubt, but the best Icould devise-suggested itself to me. I darted up the stairs, knocked, re-entered the room as if in haste:--

"Mademoiselle, I have forgotten one of my gloves; I must have left ithere. "

She instantly rose to seek it; as she turned her back, I--being nowat the hearth--noiselessly lifted a little vase, one of a set of chinaornaments, as old-fashioned as the tea-cups--slipped the money under it, then saying--"Oh here is my glove! I had dropped it within the fender;good evening, mademoiselle, " I made my second exit. 

Brief as my impromptu return had been, it had afforded me time to pickup a heart-ache; I remarked that Frances had already removed the redembers of her cheerful little fire from the grate: forced to calculateevery item, to save in every detail, she had instantly on my departureretrenched a luxury too expensive to be enjoyed alone. 

"I am glad it is not yet winter, " thought I; "but in two months morecome the winds and rains of November; would to God that before then Icould earn the right, and the power, to shovel coals into that grate ADLIBITUM!"

Already the pavement was drying; a balmy and fresh breeze stirred theair, purified by lightning; I felt the West behind me, where spread asky like opal; azure immingled with crimson: the enlarged sun, gloriousin Tyrian tints, dipped his brim already; stepping, as I was, eastward, I faced a vast bank of clouds, but also I had before me the arch of anevening rainbow; a perfect rainbow--high, wide, vivid. I looked long;my eye drank in the scene, and I suppose my brain must have absorbedit; for that night, after lying awake in pleasant fever a long time, watching the silent sheet-lightning, which still played among theretreating clouds, and flashed silvery over the stars, I at last fellasleep; and then in a dream were reproduced the setting sun, the bank ofclouds, the mighty rainbow. I stood, methought, on a terrace; I leanedover a parapeted wall; there was space below me, depth I could notfathom, but hearing an endless dash of waves, I believed it to be thesea; sea spread to the horizon; sea of changeful green and intenseblue: all was soft in the distance; all vapour-veiled. A spark of goldglistened on the line between water and air, floated up, approached, enlarged, changed; the object hung midway between heaven and earth, under the arch of the rainbow; the soft but dusk clouds diffused behind. It hovered as on wings; pearly, fleecy, gleaming air streamed likeraiment round it; light, tinted with carnation, coloured what seemedface and limbs; A large star shone with still lustre on an angel'sforehead; an upraised arm and hand, glancing like a ray, pointed to thebow overhead, and a voice in my heart whispered--

"Hope smiles on Effort!"

CHAPTER XX. 

A COMPETENCY was what I wanted; a competency it was now my aim andresolve to secure; but never had I been farther from the mark. WithAugust the school-year (l'annee scolaire) closed, the examinationsconcluded, the prizes were adjudged, the schools dispersed, the gates ofall colleges, the doors of all pensionnats shut, not to be reopened tillthe beginning or middle of October. The last day of August was at hand, and what was my position? Had I advanced a step since the commencementof the past quarter? On the contrary, I had receded one. By renouncingmy engagement as English master in Mdlle. Reuter's establishment, I hadvoluntarily cut off 20l. From my yearly income; I had diminished my 60l. Per annum to 40l. , and even that sum I now held by a very precarioustenure. 

It is some time since I made any reference to M. Pelet. The moonlightwalk is, I think, the last incident recorded in this narrative wherethat gentleman cuts any conspicuous figure: the fact is, since thatevent, a change had come over the spirit of our intercourse. He, indeed, ignorant that the still hour, a cloudless moon, and an open lattice, had revealed to me the secret of his selfish love and false friendship, would have continued smooth and complaisant as ever; but I grew spiny asa porcupine, and inflexible as a blackthorn cudgel; I never had a smilefor his raillery, never a moment for his society; his invitations totake coffee with him in his parlour were invariably rejected, andvery stiffly and sternly rejected too; his jesting allusions to thedirectress (which he still continued) were heard with a grim calm verydifferent from the petulant pleasure they were formerly wont to excite. For a long time Pelet bore with my frigid demeanour very patiently;he even increased his attentions; but finding that even a cringingpoliteness failed to thaw or move me, he at last altered too; inhis turn he cooled; his invitations ceased; his countenance becamesuspicious and overcast, and I read in the perplexed yet brooding aspectof his brow, a constant examination and comparison of premises, and ananxious endeavour to draw thence some explanatory inference. Ere long, I fancy, he succeeded, for he was not without penetration; perhaps, too, Mdlle. Zoraide might have aided him in the solution of the enigma; atany rate I soon found that the uncertainty of doubt had vanished fromhis manner; renouncing all pretence of friendship and cordiality, headopted a reserved, formal, but still scrupulously polite deportment. This was the point to which I had wished to bring him, and I was nowagain comparatively at my ease. I did not, it is true, like my positionin his house; but being freed from the annoyance of false professionsand double-dealing I could endure it, especially as no heroic sentimentof hatred or jealousy of the director distracted my philosophical soul;he had not, I found, wounded me in a very tender point, the wound was sosoon and so radically healed, leaving only a sense of contempt forthe treacherous fashion in which it had been inflicted, and a lastingmistrust of the hand which I had detected attempting to stab in thedark. 

This state of things continued till about the middle of July, and thenthere was a little change; Pelet came home one night, an hour after hisusual time, in a state of unequivocal intoxication, a thing anomalouswith him; for if he had some of the worst faults of his countrymen, he had also one at least of their virtues, i. E. Sobriety. So drunk, however, was he upon this occasion, that after having roused the wholeestablishment (except the pupils, whose dormitory being over the classesin a building apart from the dwelling-house, was consequently out of thereach of disturbance) by violently ringing the hall-bell and orderinglunch to be brought in immediately, for he imagined it was noon, whereasthe city bells had just tolled midnight; after having furiously ratedthe servants for their want of punctuality, and gone near to chastisehis poor old mother, who advised him to go to bed, he began ravingdreadfully about "le maudit Anglais, Creemsvort. " I had not yet retired;some German books I had got hold of had kept me up late; I heard theuproar below, and could distinguish the director's voice exalted ina manner as appalling as it was unusual. Opening my door a little, Ibecame aware of a demand on his part for "Creemsvort" to be broughtdown to him that he might cut his throat on the hall-table and washhis honour, which he affirmed to be in a dirty condition, in infernalBritish blood. "He is either mad or drunk, " thought I, "and in eithercase the old woman and the servants will be the better of a man'sassistance, " so I descended straight to the hall. I found him staggeringabout, his eyes in a fine frenzy rolling--a pretty sight he was, a justmedium between the fool and the lunatic. 

"Come, M. Pelet, " said I, "you had better go to bed, " and I took hold ofhis arm. His excitement, of course, increased greatly at sight and touchof the individual for whose blood he had been making application: hestruggled and struck with fury--but a drunken man is no match for asober one; and, even in his normal state, Pelet's worn out frame couldnot have stood against my sound one. I got him up-stairs, and, inprocess of time, to bed. During the operation he did not fail toutter comminations which, though broken, had a sense in them; whilestigmatizing me as the treacherous spawn of a perfidious country, he, in the same breath, anathematized Zoraide Reuter; he termed her "femmesotte et vicieuse, " who, in a fit of lewd caprice, had thrown herselfaway on an unprincipled adventurer; directing the point of the lastappellation by a furious blow, obliquely aimed at me. I left him in theact of bounding elastically out of the bed into which I had tucked him;but, as I took the precaution of turning the key in the door behind me, I retired to my own room, assured of his safe custody till the morning, and free to draw undisturbed conclusions from the scene I had justwitnessed. 

Now, it was precisely about this time that the directress, stung bymy coldness, bewitched by my scorn, and excited by the preference shesuspected me of cherishing for another, had fallen into a snare of herown laying--was herself caught in the meshes of the very passion withwhich she wished to entangle me. Conscious of the state of things inthat quarter, I gathered, from the condition in which I saw myemployer, that his lady-love had betrayed the alienation of heraffections--inclinations, rather, I would say; affection is a word atonce too warm and too pure for the subject--had let him see that thecavity of her hollow heart, emptied of his image, was now occupied bythat of his usher. It was not without some surprise that I foundmyself obliged to entertain this view of the case; Pelet, withhis old-established school, was so convenient, so profitable amatch--Zoraide was so calculating, so interested a woman--I wonderedmere personal preference could, in her mind, have prevailed for a momentover worldly advantage: yet, it was evident, from what Pelet said, that, not only had she repulsed him, but had even let slip expressions ofpartiality for me. One of his drunken exclamations was, "And thejade doats on your youth, you raw blockhead! and talks of your nobledeportment, as she calls your accursed English formality--and your puremorals, forsooth! des moeurs de Caton a-t-elle dit--sotte!" Hers, Ithought, must be a curious soul, where in spite of a strong, naturaltendency to estimate unduly advantages of wealth and station, thesardonic disdain of a fortuneless subordinate had wrought a deeperimpression than could be imprinted by the most flattering assiduities ofa prosperous CHEF D'INSTITUTION. I smiled inwardly; and strange to say, though my AMOUR PROPRE was excited not disagreeably by the conquest, mybetter feelings remained untouched. Next day, when I saw the directress, and when she made an excuse to meet me in the corridor, and besought mynotice by a demeanour and look subdued to Helot humility, I couldnot love, I could scarcely pity her. To answer briefly and drylysome interesting inquiry about my health--to pass her by with a sternbow--was all I could; her presence and manner had then, and for sometime previously and consequently, a singular effect upon me: theysealed up all that was good elicited all that was noxious in my nature;sometimes they enervated my senses, but they always hardened my heart. I was aware of the detriment done, and quarrelled with myself for thechange. I had ever hated a tyrant; and, behold, the possession of aslave, self-given, went near to transform me into what I abhorred!There was at once a sort of low gratification in receiving this lusciousincense from an attractive and still young worshipper; and an irritatingsense of degradation in the very experience of the pleasure. When shestole about me with the soft step of a slave, I felt at once barbarousand sensual as a pasha. I endured her homage sometimes; sometimes Irebuked it. My indifference or harshness served equally to increase theevil I desired to check. 

"Que le dedain lui sied bien!" I once overheard her say to her mother:"il est beau comme Apollon quand il sourit de son air hautain. "

And the jolly old dame laughed, and said she thought her daughter wasbewitched, for I had no point of a handsome man about me, except beingstraight and without deformity. "Pour moi, " she continued, "il me faittout l'effet d'un chat-huant, avec ses besicles. "

Worthy old girl! I could have gone and kissed her had she not been alittle too old, too fat, and too red-faced; her sensible, truthfulwords seemed so wholesome, contrasted with the morbid illusions of herdaughter. 

When Pelet awoke on the morning after his frenzy fit, he retained norecollection of what had happened the previous night, and his motherfortunately had the discretion to refrain from informing him that I hadbeen a witness of his degradation. He did not again have recourse towine for curing his griefs, but even in his sober mood he soon showedthat the iron of jealousy had entered into his soul. A thoroughFrenchman, the national characteristic of ferocity had not been omittedby nature in compounding the ingredients of his character; it hadappeared first in his access of drunken wrath, when some of hisdemonstrations of hatred to my person were of a truly fiendishcharacter, and now it was more covertly betrayed by momentarycontractions of the features, and flashes of fierceness in his lightblue eyes, when their glance chanced to encounter mine. He absolutelyavoided speaking to me; I was now spared even the falsehood of hispoliteness. In this state of our mutual relations, my soul rebelledsometimes almost ungovernably, against living in the house anddischarging the service of such a man; but who is free from theconstraint of circumstances? At that time, I was not: I used to riseeach morning eager to shake off his yoke, and go out with my portmanteauunder my arm, if a beggar, at least a freeman; and in the evening, whenI came back from the pensionnat de demoiselles, a certain pleasant voicein my ear; a certain face, so intelligent, yet so docile, so reflective, yet so soft, in my eyes; a certain cast of character, at once proudand pliant, sensitive and sagacious, serious and ardent, in my head; acertain tone of feeling, fervid and modest, refined and practical, pureand powerful, delighting and troubling my memory--visions of new ties Ilonged to contract, of new duties I longed to undertake, had taken therover and the rebel out of me, and had shown endurance of my hated lotin the light of a Spartan virtue. 

But Pelet's fury subsided; a fortnight sufficed for its rise, progress, and extinction: in that space of time the dismissal of the obnoxiousteacher had been effected in the neighbouring house, and in the sameinterval I had declared my resolution to follow and find out my pupil, and upon my application for her address being refused, I had summarilyresigned my own post. This last act seemed at once to restore Mdlle. Reuter to her senses; her sagacity, her judgment, so long misled by afascinating delusion, struck again into the right track the momentthat delusion vanished. By the right track, I do not mean the steep anddifficult path of principle--in that path she never trod; but the plainhighway of common sense, from which she had of late widely diverged. When there she carefully sought, and having found, industriously pursuedthe trail of her old suitor, M. Pelet. She soon overtook him. What artsshe employed to soothe and blind him I know not, but she succeeded bothin allaying his wrath, and hoodwinking his discernment, as was soonproved by the alteration in his mien and manner; she must have managedto convince him that I neither was, nor ever had been, a rival of his, for the fortnight of fury against me terminated in a fit of exceedinggraciousness and amenity, not unmixed with a dash of exultingself-complacency, more ludicrous than irritating. Pelet's bachelor'slife had been passed in proper French style with due disregard to moralrestraint, and I thought his married life promised to be very Frenchalso. He often boasted to me what a terror he had been to certainhusbands of his acquaintance; I perceived it would not now be difficultto pay him back in his own coin. 

The crisis drew on. No sooner had the holidays commenced than note ofpreparation for some momentous event sounded all through the premisesof Pelet: painters, polishers, and upholsterers were immediately setto work, and there was talk of "la chambre de Madame, " "le salon deMadame. " Not deeming it probable that the old duenna at present gracedwith that title in our house, had inspired her son with such enthusiasmof filial piety, as to induce him to fit up apartments expressly for heruse, I concluded, in common with the cook, the two housemaids, and thekitchen-scullion, that a new and more juvenile Madame was destined to bethe tenant of these gay chambers. 

Presently official announcement of the coming event was put forth. Inanother week's time M. Francois Pelet, directeur, and Mdlle. ZoraideReuter, directrice, were to be joined together in the bands ofmatrimony. Monsieur, in person, heralded the fact to me; terminatinghis communication by an obliging expression of his desire that I shouldcontinue, as heretofore, his ablest assistant and most trusted friend;and a proposition to raise my salary by an additional two hundred francsper annum. I thanked him, gave no conclusive answer at the time, and, when he had left me, threw off my blouse, put on my coat, and set outon a long walk outside the Porte de Flandre, in order, as I thought, tocool my blood, calm my nerves, and shake my disarranged ideas into someorder. In fact, I had just received what was virtually my dismissal. I could not conceal, I did not desire to conceal from myself theconviction that, being now certain that Mdlle. Reuter was destined tobecome Madame Pelet it would not do for me to remain a dependent dwellerin the house which was soon to be hers. Her present demeanour towardsme was deficient neither in dignity nor propriety; but I knew her formerfeeling was unchanged. Decorum now repressed, and Policy masked it, butOpportunity would be too strong for either of these--Temptation wouldshiver their restraints. 

I was no pope--I could not boast infallibility: in short, if I stayed, the probability was that, in three months' time, a practical modernFrench novel would be in full process of concoction under the roof ofthe unsuspecting Pelet. Now, modern French novels are not to mytaste, either practically or theoretically. Limited as had yet been myexperience of life, I had once had the opportunity of contemplating, near at hand, an example of the results produced by a course ofinteresting and romantic domestic treachery. No golden halo of fictionwas about this example, I saw it bare and real, and it was veryloathsome. I saw a mind degraded by the practice of mean subterfuge, bythe habit of perfidious deception, and a body depraved by the infectiousinfluence of the vice-polluted soul. I had suffered much from the forcedand prolonged view of this spectacle; those sufferings I did not nowregret, for their simple recollection acted as a most wholesome antidoteto temptation. They had inscribed on my reason the conviction thatunlawful pleasure, trenching on another's rights, is delusive andenvenomed pleasure--its hollowness disappoints at the time, its poisoncruelly tortures afterwards, its effects deprave for ever. 

From all this resulted the conclusion that I must leave Pelet's, andthat instantly; "but, " said Prudence, "you know not where to go, nor howto live;" and then the dream of true love came over me: Frances Henriseemed to stand at my side; her slender waist to invite my arm; herhand to court my hand; I felt it was made to nestle in mine; I could notrelinquish my right to it, nor could I withdraw my eyes for ever fromhers, where I saw so much happiness, such a correspondence of heart withheart; over whose expression I had such influence; where I could kindlebliss, infuse awe, stir deep delight, rouse sparkling spirit, andsometimes waken pleasurable dread. My hopes to will and possess, myresolutions to merit and rise, rose in array against me; and here I wasabout to plunge into the gulf of absolute destitution; "and all this, "suggested an inward voice, "because you fear an evil which may neverhappen!" "It will happen; you KNOW it will, " answered that stubbornmonitor, Conscience. "Do what you feel is right; obey me, and even inthe sloughs of want I will plant for you firm footing. " And then, as Iwalked fast along the road, there rose upon me a strange, inly-felt ideaof some Great Being, unseen, but all present, who in His beneficencedesired only my welfare, and now watched the struggle of good and evilin my heart, and waited to see whether I should obey His voice, heard inthe whispers of my conscience, or lend an ear to the sophisms by whichHis enemy and mine--the Spirit of Evil--sought to lead me astray. Rough and steep was the path indicated by divine suggestion; mossy anddeclining the green way along which Temptation strewed flowers; butwhereas, methought, the Deity of Love, the Friend of all that exists, would smile well-pleased were I to gird up my loins and address myselfto the rude ascent; so, on the other hand, each inclination to thevelvet declivity seemed to kindle a gleam of triumph on the brow of theman-hating, God-defying demon. Sharp and short I turned round; fast Iretraced my steps; in half an hour I was again at M. Pelet's: I soughthim in his study; brief parley, concise explanation sufficed; my mannerproved that I was resolved; he, perhaps, at heart approved mydecision. After twenty minutes' conversation, I re-entered my own room, self-deprived of the means of living, self-sentenced to leave my presenthome, with the short notice of a week in which to provide another. 

CHAPTER XXI. 

DIRECTLY as I closed the door, I saw laid on the table two letters; mythought was, that they were notes of invitation from the friends of someof my pupils; I had received such marks of attention occasionally, andwith me, who had no friends, correspondence of more interest was outof the question; the postman's arrival had never yet been an event ofinterest to me since I came to Brussels. I laid my hand carelessly onthe documents, and coldly and slowly glancing at them, I prepared tobreak the seals; my eye was arrested and my hand too; I saw what excitedme, as if I had found a vivid picture where I expected only to discovera blank page: on one cover was an English postmark; on the other, alady's clear, fine autograph; the last I opened first:--

"MONSIEUR, "I FOUND out what you had done the very morning after yourvisit to me; you might be sure I should dust the china, every day; and, as no one but you had been in my room for a week, and as fairy-money isnot current in Brussels, I could not doubt who left the twenty francson the chimney-piece. I thought I heard you stir the vase when I wasstooping to look for your glove under the table, and I wondered youshould imagine it had got into such a little cup. Now, monsieur, themoney is not mine, and I shall not keep it; I will not send it in thisnote because it might be lost--besides, it is heavy; but I will restoreit to you the first time I see you, and you must make no difficultiesabout taking it; because, in the first place, I am sure, monsieur, you can understand that one likes to pay one's debts; that it issatisfactory to owe no man anything; and, in the second place, I can nowvery well afford to be honest, as I am provided with a situation. Thislast circumstance is, indeed, the reason of my writing to you, for itis pleasant to communicate good news; and, in these days, I have only mymaster to whom I can tell anything. 

"A week ago, monsieur, I was sent for by a Mrs. Wharton, an Englishlady; her eldest daughter was going to be married, and some richrelation having made her a present of a veil and dress in costly oldlace, as precious, they said, almost as jewels, but a little damaged bytime, I was commissioned to put them in repair. I had to do it at thehouse; they gave me, besides, some embroidery to complete, and nearlya week elapsed before I had finished everything. While I worked, MissWharton often came into the room and sat with me, and so did Mrs. Wharton; they made me talk English; asked how I had learned to speak itso well; then they inquired what I knew besides--what books I had read;soon they seemed to make a sort of wonder of me, considering me no doubtas a learned grisette. One afternoon, Mrs. Wharton brought in a Parisianlady to test the accuracy of my knowledge of French; the result ofit: was that, owing probably in a great degree to the mother's anddaughter's good humour about the marriage, which inclined them todo beneficent deeds, and partly, I think, because they are naturallybenevolent people, they decided that the wish I had expressed to dosomething more than mend lace was a very legitimate one; and the sameday they took me in their carriage to Mrs. D. 's, who is the directressof the first English school at Brussels. It seems she happened to be inwant of a French lady to give lessons in geography, history, grammar, and composition, in the French language. Mrs. Wharton recommended mevery warmly; and, as two of her younger daughters are pupils in thehouse, her patronage availed to get me the place. It was settled that Iam to attend six hours daily (for, happily, it was not required thatI should live in the house; I should have been sorry to leave mylodgings), and, for this, Mrs. D. Will give me twelve hundred francs perannum. 

"You see, therefore, monsieur, that I am now rich; richer almost thanI ever hoped to be: I feel thankful for it, especially as my sight wasbeginning to be injured by constant working at fine lace; and I wasgetting, too, very weary of sitting up late at nights, and yet not beingable to find time for reading or study. I began to fear that I shouldfall ill, and be unable to pay my way; this fear is now, in a greatmeasure, removed; and, in truth, monsieur, I am very grateful to God forthe relief; and I feel it necessary, almost, to speak of my happinessto some one who is kind-hearted enough to derive joy from seeing othersjoyful. I could not, therefore, resist the temptation of writing to you;I argued with myself it is very pleasant for me to write, and it willnot be exactly painful, though it may be tiresome to monsieur toread. Do not be too angry with my circumlocution and inelegancies ofexpression, and, believe me

"Your attached pupil, "F. E. HENRI. "

Having read this letter, I mused on its contents for a fewmoments--whether with sentiments pleasurable or otherwise I willhereafter note--and then took up the other. It was directed in a handto me unknown--small, and rather neat; neither masculine nor exactlyfeminine; the seal bore a coat of arms, concerning which I could onlydecipher that it was not that of the Seacombe family, consequently theepistle could be from none of my almost forgotten, and certainly quiteforgetting patrician relations. From whom, then, was it? I removed theenvelope; the note folded within ran as follows:

"I have no doubt in the world that you are doing well in that greasyFlanders; living probably on the fat of the unctuous land; sitting likea black-haired, tawny-skinned, long-nosed Israelite by the flesh-potsof Egypt; or like a rascally son of Levi near the brass cauldrons of thesanctuary, and every now and then plunging in a consecrated hook, anddrawing out of the sea, of broth the fattest of heave-shoulders and thefleshiest of wave-breasts. I know this, because you never write to anyone in England. Thankless dog that you are! I, by the sovereign efficacyof my recommendation, got you the place where you are now living inclover, and yet not a word of gratitude, or even acknowledgment, haveyou ever offered in return; but I am coming to see you, and smallconception can you, with your addled aristocratic brains, form of thesort of moral kicking I have, ready packed in my carpet-bag, destined tobe presented to you immediately on my arrival. 

"Meantime I know all about your affairs, and have just got information, by Brown's last letter, that you are said to be on the point of formingan advantageous match with a pursy, little Belgian schoolmistress--aMdlle. Zenobie, or some such name. Won't I have a look at her when Icome over! And this you may rely on: if she pleases my taste, or if Ithink it worth while in a pecuniary point of view, I'll pounce on yourprize and bear her away triumphant in spite of your teeth. Yet I don'tlike dumpies either, and Brown says she is little and stout--the betterfitted for a wiry, starved-looking chap like you. "Be on the look-out, for you know neither the day nor hour when your ----" (I don't wish toblaspheme, so I'll leave a blank)--cometh. 

"Yours truly, "HUNSDEN YORKE HUNSDEN. "

"Humph!" said I; and ere I laid the letter down, I again glanced at thesmall, neat handwriting, not a bit like that of a mercantile man, nor, indeed, of any man except Hunsden himself. They talk of affinitiesbetween the autograph and the character: what affinity was there here?I recalled the writer's peculiar face and certain traits I suspected, rather than knew, to appertain to his nature, and I answered, "A greatdeal. "

Hunsden, then, was coming to Brussels, and coming I knew not when;coming charged with the expectation of finding me on the summit ofprosperity, about to be married, to step into a warm nest, to liecomfortably down by the side of a snug, well-fed little mate. 

"I wish him joy of the fidelity of the picture he has painted, " thoughtI. "What will he say when, instead of a pair of plump turtle doves, billing and cooing in a bower of roses, he finds a single leancormorant, standing mateless and shelterless on poverty's bleak cliff?Oh, confound him! Let him come, and let him laugh at the contrastbetween rumour and fact. Were he the devil himself, instead of beingmerely very like him, I'd not condescend to get out of his way, or toforge a smile or a cheerful word wherewith to avert his sarcasm. "

Then I recurred to the other letter: that struck a chord whose sound Icould not deaden by thrusting my fingers into my ears, for it vibratedwithin; and though its swell might be exquisite music, its cadence was agroan. 

That Frances was relieved from the pressure of want, that the curse ofexcessive labour was taken off her, filled me with happiness; that herfirst thought in prosperity should be to augment her joy by sharingit with me, met and satisfied the wish of my heart. Two results of herletter were then pleasant, sweet as two draughts of nectar; but applyingmy lips for the third time to the cup, and they were excoriated as withvinegar and gall. 

Two persons whose desires are moderate may live well enough in Brusselson an income which would scarcely afford a respectable maintenance forone in London: and that, not because the necessaries of life are somuch dearer in the latter capital, or taxes so much higher than in theformer, but because the English surpass in folly all the nations onGod's earth, and are more abject slaves to custom, to opinion, tothe desire to keep up a certain appearance, than the Italians are topriestcraft, the French to vain-glory, the Russians to their Czar, orthe Germans to black beer. I have seen a degree of sense in the modestarrangement of one homely Belgian household, that might put to shame theelegance, the superfluities, the luxuries, the strained refinements ofa hundred genteel English mansions. In Belgium, provided you canmake money, you may save it; this is scarcely possible in England;ostentation there lavishes in a month what industry has earned in ayear. More shame to all classes in that most bountiful and beggarlycountry for their servile following of Fashion; I could write a chapteror two on this subject, but must forbear, at least for the present. HadI retained my 60l. Per annum I could, now that Frances was in possessionof 50l. , have gone straight to her this very evening, and spoken out thewords which, repressed, kept fretting my heart with fever; our unitedincome would, as we should have managed it, have sufficed well forour mutual support; since we lived in a country where economy was notconfounded with meanness, where frugality in dress, food, and furniture, was not synonymous with vulgarity in these various points. But theplaceless usher, bare of resource, and unsupported by connections, mustnot think of this; such a sentiment as love, such a word as marriage, were misplaced in his heart, and on his lips. Now for the first time didI truly feel what it was to be poor; now did the sacrifice I had madein casting from me the means of living put on a new aspect; instead ofa correct, just, honourable act, it seemed a deed at once light andfanatical; I took several turns in my room, under the goading influenceof most poignant remorse; I walked a quarter of an hour from the wall tothe window; and at the window, self-reproach seemed to face me; at thewall, self-disdain: all at once out spoke Conscience:--

"Down, stupid tormenters!" cried she; "the man has done his duty;you shall not bait him thus by thoughts of what might have been; herelinquished a temporary and contingent good to avoid a permanent andcertain evil he did well. Let him reflect now, and when your blindingdust and deafening hum subside, he will discover a path. "

I sat down; I propped my forehead on both my hands; I thought andthought an hour-two hours; vainly. I seemed like one sealed in asubterranean vault, who gazes at utter blackness; at blackness ensuredby yard-thick stone walls around, and by piles of building above, expecting light to penetrate through granite, and through cement firmas granite. But there are chinks, or there may be chinks, in thebest adjusted masonry; there was a chink in my cavernous cell; for, eventually, I saw, or seemed to see, a ray--pallid, indeed, and cold, and doubtful, but still a ray, for it showed that narrow path whichconscience had promised after two, three hours' torturing research inbrain and memory, I disinterred certain remains of circumstances, andconceived a hope that by putting them together an expedient might beframed, and a resource discovered. The circumstances were briefly these:

Some three months ago M. Pelet had, on the occasion of his fete, giventhe boys a treat, which treat consisted in a party of pleasure to acertain place of public resort in the outskirts of Brussels, of whichI do not at this moment remember the name, but near it were several ofthose lakelets called etangs; and there was one etang, larger than therest, where on holidays people were accustomed to amuse themselves byrowing round it in little boats. The boys having eaten an unlimitedquantity of "gaufres, " and drank several bottles of Louvain beer, amidthe shades of a garden made and provided for such crams, petitionedthe director for leave to take a row on the etang. Half a dozen of theeldest succeeded in obtaining leave, and I was commissioned to accompanythem as surveillant. Among the half dozen happened to be a certain JeanBaptiste Vandenhuten, a most ponderous young Flamand, not tall, buteven now, at the early age of sixteen, possessing a breadth and depth ofpersonal development truly national. It chanced that Jean was the firstlad to step into the boat; he stumbled, rolled to one side, the boatrevolted at his weight and capsized. Vandenhuten sank like lead, rose, sank again. My coat and waistcoat were off in an instant; I had not beenbrought up at Eton and boated and bathed and swam there ten long yearsfor nothing; it was a natural and easy act for me to leap to the rescue. The lads and the boatmen yelled; they thought there would be two deathsby drowning instead of one; but as Jean rose the third time, I clutchedhim by one leg and the collar, and in three minutes more both he and Iwere safe landed. To speak heaven's truth, my merit in the action wassmall indeed, for I had run no risk, and subsequently did not even catchcold from the wetting; but when M. And Madame Vandenhuten, of whom JeanBaptiste was the sole hope, came to hear of the exploit, they seemedto think I had evinced a bravery and devotion which no thanks couldsufficiently repay. Madame, in particular, was "certain I must havedearly loved their sweet son, or I would not thus have hazarded my ownlife to save his. " Monsieur, an honest-looking, though phlegmatic man, said very little, but he would not suffer me to leave the room, tillI had promised that in case I ever stood in need of help I would, byapplying to him, give him a chance of discharging the obligation underwhich he affirmed I had laid him. These words, then, were my glimmer oflight; it was here I found my sole outlet; and in truth, though the coldlight roused, it did not cheer me; nor did the outlet seem such as Ishould like to pass through. Right I had none to M. Vandenhuten's goodoffices; it was not on the ground of merit I could apply to him; no, Imust stand on that of necessity: I had no work; I wanted work; my bestchance of obtaining it lay in securing his recommendation. This I knewcould be had by asking for it; not to ask, because the request revoltedmy pride and contradicted my habits, would, I felt, be an indulgence offalse and indolent fastidiousness. I might repent the omission all mylife; I would not then be guilty of it. 

That evening I went to M. Vandenhuten's; but I had bent the bow andadjusted the shaft in vain; the string broke. I rang the bell at thegreat door (it was a large, handsome house in an expensive part of thetown); a manservant opened; I asked for M. Vandenhuten; M. Vandenhutenand family were all out of town--gone to Ostend--did not know when theywould be back. I left my card, and retraced my steps. 

CHAPTER XXII

A WEEK is gone; LE JOUR DES NOCES arrived; the marriage was solemnizedat St. Jacques; Mdlle. Zoraide became Madame Pelet, NEE Reuter; and, inabout an hour after this transformation, "the happy pair, " as newspapersphrase it, were on their way to Paris; where, according to previousarrangement, the honeymoon was to be spent. The next day I quitted thepensionnat. Myself and my chattels (some books and clothes) were soontransferred to a modest lodging I had hired in a street not far off. Inhalf an hour my clothes were arranged in a commode, my books on a shelf, and the "flitting" was effected. I should not have been unhappy that dayhad not one pang tortured me--a longing to go to the Rue Notre Dameaux Neiges, resisted, yet irritated by an inward resolve to avoidthat street till such time as the mist of doubt should clear from myprospects. 

It was a sweet September evening--very mild, very still; I had nothingto do; at that hour I knew Frances would be equally released fromoccupation; I thought she might possibly be wishing for her master, Iknew I wished for my pupil. Imagination began with her low whispers, infusing into my soul the soft tale of pleasures that might be. 

"You will find her reading or writing, " said she; "you can take yourseat at her side; you need not startle her peace by undue excitement;you need not embarrass her manner by unusual action or language. Be asyou always are; look over what she has written; listen while she reads;chide her, or quietly approve; you know the effect of either system; youknow her smile when pleased, you know the play of her looks when roused;you have the secret of awakening that expression you will, and you canchoose amongst that pleasant variety. With you she will sit silent aslong as it suits you to talk alone; you can hold her under a potentspell: intelligent as she is, eloquent as she can be, you can seal herlips, and veil her bright countenance with diffidence; yet, you know, she is not all monotonous mildness; you have seen, with a sort ofstrange pleasure, revolt, scorn, austerity, bitterness, lay energeticclaim to a place in her feelings and physiognomy; you know that fewcould rule her as you do; you know she might break, but never bend underthe hand of Tyranny and Injustice, but Reason and Affection can guideher by a sign. Try their influence now. Go--they are not passions; youmay handle them safely. "

"I will NOT go was my answer to the sweet temptress. A man is masterof himself to a certain point, but not beyond it. Could I seek Francesto-night, could I sit with her alone in a quiet room, and address heronly in the language of Reason and Affection?"

"No, " was the brief, fervent reply of that Love which had conquered andnow controlled me. 

Time seemed to stagnate; the sun would not go down; my watch ticked, butI thought the hands were paralyzed. 

"What a hot evening!" I cried, throwing open the lattice; for, indeed, Ihad seldom felt so feverish. Hearing a step ascending the common stair, I wondered whether the "locataire, " now mounting to his apartments, wereas unsettled in mind and condition as I was, or whether he lived in thecalm of certain resources, and in the freedom of unfettered feelings. What! was he coming in person to solve the problem hardly proposed ininaudible thought? He had actually knocked at the door--at MY door; asmart, prompt rap; and, almost before I could invite him in, he was overthe threshold, and had closed the door behind him. 

"And how are you?" asked an indifferent, quiet voice, in the Englishlanguage; while my visitor, without any sort of bustle or introduction, put his hat on the table, and his gloves into his hat, and drawingthe only armchair the room afforded a little forward, seated himselftranquilly therein. 

"Can't you speak?" he inquired in a few moments, in a tone whosenonchalance seemed to intimate that it was much the same thing whetherI answered or not. The fact is, I found it desirable to have recourse tomy good friends "les besicles;" not exactly to ascertain the identity ofmy visitor--for I already knew him, confound his impudence! but to seehow he looked--to get a clear notion of his mien and countenance. I wiped the glasses very deliberately, and put them on quite asdeliberately; adjusting them so as not to hurt the bridge of my noseor get entangled in my short tufts of dun hair. I was sitting in thewindow-seat, with my back to the light, and I had him VIS-A-VIS; aposition he would much rather have had reversed; for, at any time, hepreferred scrutinizing to being scrutinized. Yes, it was HE, and nomistake, with his six feet of length arranged in a sitting attitude;with his dark travelling surtout with its velvet collar, his graypantaloons, his black stock, and his face, the most original one Natureever modelled, yet the least obtrusively so; not one feature that couldbe termed marked or odd, yet the effect of the whole unique. There is nouse in attempting to describe what is indescribable. Being in no hurryto address him, I sat and stared at my ease. 

"Oh, that's your game--is it?" said he at last. "Well, we'll see whichis soonest tired. " And he slowly drew out a fine cigar-case, picked oneto his taste, lit it, took a book from the shelf convenient to his hand, then leaning back, proceeded to smoke and read as tranquilly as if hehad been in his own room, in Grove-street, X---shire, England. I knewhe was capable of continuing in that attitude till midnight, if heconceived the whim, so I rose, and taking the book from his hand, Isaid, --

"You did not ask for it, and you shall not have it. "

"It is silly and dull, " he observed, "so I have not lost much;" then thespell being broken, he went on. "I thought you lived at Pelet's; I wentthere this afternoon expecting to be starved to death by sitting ina boarding-school drawing-room, and they told me you were gone, haddeparted this morning; you had left your address behind you though, which I wondered at; it was a more practical and sensible precautionthan I should have imagined you capable of. Why did you leave?"

"Because M. Pelet has just married the lady whom you and Mr. Brownassigned to me as my wife. "

"Oh, indeed!" replied Hunsden with a short laugh; "so you've lost bothyour wife and your place?"

"Precisely so. "

I saw him give a quick, covert glance all round my room; he marked itsnarrow limits, its scanty furniture: in an instant he had comprehendedthe state of matters--had absolved me from the crime of prosperity. Acurious effect this discovery wrought in his strange mind; I am morallycertain that if he had found me installed in a handsome parlour, lounging on a soft couch, with a pretty, wealthy wife at my side, hewould have hated me; a brief, cold, haughty visit, would in such a casehave been the extreme limit of his civilities, and never would he havecome near me more, so long as the tide of fortune bore me smoothly onits surface; but the painted furniture, the bare walls, the cheerlesssolitude of my room relaxed his rigid pride, and I know not whatsoftening change had taken place both in his voice and look ere he spokeagain. 

"You have got another place?"

"No. "

"You are in the way of getting one?"

"No. "

"That is bad; have you applied to Brown?"

"No, indeed. "

"You had better; he often has it in his power to give useful informationin such matters. "

"He served me once very well; I have no claim on him, and am not in thehumour to bother him again. "

"Oh, if you're bashful, and dread being intrusive, you need onlycommission me. I shall see him to-night; I can put in a word. "

"I beg you will not, Mr. Hunsden; I am in your debt already; you did mean important service when I was at X----; got me out of a den where Iwas dying: that service I have never repaid, and at present I declinepositively adding another item to the account. "

"If the wind sits that way, I'm satisfied. I thought my unexampledgenerosity in turning you out of that accursed counting-house would beduly appreciated some day: 'Cast your bread on the waters, and itshall be found after many days, ' say the Scriptures. Yes, that's right, lad--make much of me--I'm a nonpareil: there's nothing like me in thecommon herd. In the meantime, to put all humbug aside and talk sense fora few moments, you would be greatly the better of a situation, and whatis more, you are a fool if you refuse to take one from any hand thatoffers it. "

"Very well, Mr. Hunsden; now you have settled that point, talk ofsomething else. What news from X----?"

"I have not settled that point, or at least there is another to settlebefore we get to X----. Is this Miss Zenobie" (Zoraide, interposedI)--"well, Zoraide--is she really married to Pelet?"

"I tell you yes--and if you don't believe me, go and ask the cure of St. Jacques. "

"And your heart is broken?"

"I am not aware that it is; it feels all right--beats as usual. "

"Then your feelings are less superfine than I took them to be; you mustbe a coarse, callous character, to bear such a thwack without staggeringunder it. "

"Staggering under it? What the deuce is there to stagger under in thecircumstance of a Belgian schoolmistress marrying a French schoolmaster?The progeny will doubtless be a strange hybrid race; but that's theirLook out--not mine. "

"He indulges in scurrilous jests, and the bride was his affianced one!"

"Who said so?"

"Brown. "

"I'll tell you what, Hunsden--Brown is an old gossip. "

"He is; but in the meantime, if his gossip be founded on less thanfact--if you took no particular interest in Miss Zoraide--why, Oyouthful pedagogue! did you leave your place in consequence of herbecoming Madame Pelet?"

"Because--" I felt my face grow a little hot; "because--in short, Mr. Hunsden, I decline answering any more questions, " and I plunged my handsdeep in my breeches pocket. 

Hunsden triumphed: his eyes--his laugh announced victory. 

"What the deuce are you laughing at, Mr. Hunsden?"

"At your exemplary composure. Well, lad, I'll not bore you; I see howit is: Zoraide has jilted you--married some one richer, as any sensiblewoman would have done if she had had the chance. "

I made no reply--I let him think so, not feeling inclined to enter intoan explanation of the real state of things, and as little to forge afalse account; but it was not easy to blind Hunsden; my very silence, instead of convincing him that he had hit the truth, seemed to renderhim doubtful about it; he went on:--

"I suppose the affair has been conducted as such affairs alwaysare amongst rational people: you offered her your youth and yourtalents-such as they are--in exchange for her position and money: Idon't suppose you took appearance, or what is called LOVE, into theaccount--for I understand she is older than you, and Brown says, rathersensible-looking than beautiful. She, having then no chance of makinga better bargain, was at first inclined to come to terms with you, butPelet--the head of a flourishing school--stepped in with a higher bid;she accepted, and he has got her: a correct transaction--perfectlyso--business-like and legitimate. And now we'll talk of something else. "

"Do, " said I, very glad to dismiss the topic, and especially glad tohave baffled the sagacity of my cross-questioner--if, indeed, I hadbaffled it; for though his words now led away from the dangerous point, his eyes, keen and watchful, seemed still preoccupied with the formeridea. 

"You want to hear news from X----? And what interest can you have inX----? You left no friends there, for you made none. Nobody ever asksafter you--neither man nor woman; and if I mention your name in company, the men look as if I had spoken of Prester John; and the women sneercovertly. Our X---- belles must have disliked you. How did you excitetheir displeasure?"

"I don't know. I seldom spoke to them--they were nothing to me. Iconsidered them only as something to be glanced at from a distance;their dresses and faces were often pleasing enough to the eye: butI could not understand their conversation, nor even read theircountenances. When I caught snatches of what they said, I could nevermake much of it; and the play of their lips and eyes did not help me atall. "

"That was your fault, not theirs. There are sensible, as well ashandsome women in X----; women it is worth any man's while to talk to, and with whom I can talk with pleasure: but you had and have no pleasantaddress; there is nothing in you to induce a woman to be affable. I haveremarked you sitting near the door in a room full of company, bent onhearing, not on speaking; on observing, not on entertaining; lookingfrigidly shy at the commencement of a party, confusingly vigilant aboutthe middle, and insultingly weary towards the end. Is that the way, doyou think, ever to communicate pleasure or excite interest? No; and ifyou are generally unpopular, it is because you deserve to be so. "

"Content!" I ejaculated. 

"No, you are not content; you see beauty always turning its back onyou; you are mortified and then you sneer. I verily believe all that isdesirable on earth--wealth, reputation, love--will for ever to you bethe ripe grapes on the high trellis: you'll look up at them; they willtantalize in you the lust of the eye; but they are out of reach: youhave not the address to fetch a ladder, and you'll go away calling themsour. "

Cutting as these words might have been under some circumstances, theydrew no blood now. My life was changed; my experience had been variedsince I left X----, but Hunsden could not know this; he had seen me onlyin the character of Mr. Crimsworth's clerk--a dependant amongst wealthystrangers, meeting disdain with a hard front, conscious of an unsocialand unattractive exterior, refusing to sue for notice which I was surewould be withheld, declining to evince an admiration which I knew wouldbe scorned as worthless. He could not be aware that since then youth andloveliness had been to me everyday objects; that I had studied them atleisure and closely, and had seen the plain texture of truth underthe embroidery of appearance; nor could he, keen-sighted as hewas, penetrate into my heart, search my brain, and read my peculiarsympathies and antipathies; he had not known me long enough, or wellenough, to perceive how low my feelings would ebb under some influences, powerful over most minds; how high, how fast they would flow underother influences, that perhaps acted with the more intense force on me, because they acted on me alone. Neither could he suspect for an instantthe history of my communications with Mdlle. Reuter; secret to himand to all others was the tale of her strange infatuation; herblandishments, her wiles had been seen but by me, and to me only werethey known; but they had changed me, for they had proved that I COULDimpress. A sweeter secret nestled deeper in my heart; one full oftenderness and as full of strength: it took the sting out of Hunsden'ssarcasm; it kept me unbent by shame, and unstirred by wrath. But of allthis I could say nothing--nothing decisive at least; uncertainty sealedmy lips, and during the interval of silence by which alone I replied toMr. Hunsden, I made up my mind to be for the present wholly misjudgedby him, and misjudged I was; he thought he had been rather too hardupon me, and that I was crushed by the weight of his upbraidings; so tore-assure me he said, doubtless I should mend some day; I was only atthe beginning of life yet; and since happily I was not quite withoutsense, every false step I made would be a good lesson. 

Just then I turned my face a little to the light; the approach oftwilight, and my position in the window-seat, had, for the last tenminutes, prevented him from studying my countenance; as I moved, however, he caught an expression which he thus interpreted:--

"Confound it! How doggedly self-approving the lad looks! I thought hewas fit to die with shame, and there he sits grinning smiles, as good asto say, 'Let the world wag as it will, I've the philosopher's stonein my waist-coat pocket, and the elixir of life in my cupboard; I'mindependent of both Fate and Fortune. '"

"Hunsden--you spoke of grapes; I was thinking of a fruit I like betterthan your X---- hot-house grapes--an unique fruit, growing wild, which Ihave marked as my own, and hope one day to gather and taste. It is of nouse your offering me the draught of bitterness, or threatening me withdeath by thirst: I have the anticipation of sweetness on my palate; thehope of freshness on my lips; I can reject the unsavoury, and endure theexhausting. "

"For how long?"

"Till the next opportunity for effort; and as the prize of success willbe a treasure after my own heart, I'll bring a bull's strength to thestruggle. "

"Bad luck crushes bulls as easily as bullaces; and, I believe, the furydogs you: you were born with a wooden spoon in your mouth, depend onit. "

"I believe you; sad I mean to make my wooden spoon do the work of somepeople's silver ladles: grasped firmly, and handled nimbly, even awooden spoon will shovel up broth. "

Hunsden rose: "I see, " said he; "I suppose you're one of those whodevelop best unwatched, and act best unaided-work your own way. Now, I'll go. " And, without another word, he was going; at the door heturned:--

"Crimsworth Hall is sold, " said he. 

"Sold!" was my echo. 

"Yes; you know, of course, that your brother failed three months ago?"

"What! Edward Crimsworth?"

"Precisely; and his wife went home to her fathers; when affairs wentawry, his temper sympathized with them; he used her ill; I told you hewould be a tyrant to her some day; as to him--"

"Ay, as to him--what is become of him?"

"Nothing extraordinary--don't be alarmed; he put himself under theprotection of the court, compounded with his creditors--tenpence inthe pound; in six weeks set up again, coaxed back his wife, and isflourishing like a green bay-tree. "

"And Crimsworth Hall--was the furniture sold too?"

"Everything--from the grand piano down to the rolling-pin. "

"And the contents of the oak dining-room--were they sold?"

"Of course; why should the sofas and chairs of that room be held moresacred than those of any other?"

"And the pictures?"

"What pictures? Crimsworth had no special collection that I know of--hedid not profess to be an amateur. "

"There were two portraits, one on each side the mantelpiece; you cannothave forgotten them, Mr. Hunsden; you once noticed that of the lady--"

"Oh, I know! the thin-faced gentlewoman with a shawl put on likedrapery. --Why, as a matter of course, it would be sold among the otherthings. If you had been rich, you might have bought it, for I rememberyou said it represented your mother: you see what it is to be without asou. "

I did. "But surely, " I thought to myself, "I shall not always be sopoverty-stricken; I may one day buy it back yet. --Who purchased it? doyou know?" I asked. 

"How is it likely? I never inquired who purchased anything; there spokethe unpractical man--to imagine all the world is interested in whatinterests himself! Now, good night--I'm off for Germany to-morrowmorning; I shall be back here in six weeks, and possibly I may calland see you again; I wonder whether you'll be still out of place!"he laughed, as mockingly, as heartlessly as Mephistopheles, and solaughing, vanished. 

Some people, however indifferent they may become after a considerablespace of absence, always contrive to leave a pleasant impression justat parting; not so Hunsden, a conference with him affected one like adraught of Peruvian bark; it seemed a concentration of the speciallyharsh, stringent, bitter; whether, like bark, it invigorated, I scarcelyknew. 

A ruffled mind makes a restless pillow; I slept little on the nightafter this interview; towards morning I began to doze, but hardly had myslumber become sleep, when I was roused from it by hearing a noise inmy sitting room, to which my bed-room adjoined--a step, and a shoving offurniture; the movement lasted barely two minutes; with the closingof the door it ceased. I listened; not a mouse stirred; perhaps Ihad dreamt it; perhaps a locataire had made a mistake, and entered myapartment instead of his own. It was yet but five o'clock; neither I northe day were wide awake; I turned, and was soon unconscious. When I didrise, about two hours later, I had forgotten the circumstance; the firstthing I saw, however, on quitting my chamber, recalled it; just pushedin at the door of my sitting-room, and still standing on end, was awooden packing-case--a rough deal affair, wide but shallow; a porterhad doubtless shoved it forward, but seeing no occupant of the room, hadleft it at the entrance. 

"That is none of mine, " thought I, approaching; "it must be meant forsomebody else. " I stooped to examine the address:--

"Wm. Crimsworth, Esq. , No --, -- St. , Brussels. "

I was puzzled, but concluding that the best way to obtain informationwas to ask within, I cut the cords and opened the case. Green baizeenveloped its contents, sewn carefully at the sides; I ripped thepack-thread with my pen-knife, and still, as the seam gave way, glimpsesof gilding appeared through the widening interstices. Boards and baizebeing at length removed, I lifted from the case a large picture, in amagnificent frame; leaning it against a chair, in a position where thelight from the window fell favourably upon it, I stepped back--already Ihad mounted my spectacles. A portrait-painter's sky (the most sombre andthreatening of welkins), and distant trees of a conventional depth ofhue, raised in full relief a pale, pensive-looking female face, shadowedwith soft dark hair, almost blending with the equally dark clouds;large, solemn eyes looked reflectively into mine; a thin cheek restedon a delicate little hand; a shawl, artistically draped, half hid, halfshowed a slight figure. A listener (had there been one) might have heardme, after ten minutes' silent gazing, utter the word "Mother!" I mighthave said more--but with me, the first word uttered aloud in soliloquyrouses consciousness; it reminds me that only crazy people talk tothemselves, and then I think out my monologue, instead of speaking it. I had thought a long while, and a long while had contemplated theintelligence, the sweetness, and--alas! the sadness also of those fine, grey eyes, the mental power of that forehead, and the rare sensibilityof that serious mouth, when my glance, travelling downwards, fell on anarrow billet, stuck in the corner of the picture, between the frame andthe canvas. Then I first asked, "Who sent this picture? Who thought ofme, saved it out of the wreck of Crimsworth Hall, and now commits it tothe care of its natural keeper?" I took the note from its niche; thus itspoke:--

"There is a sort of stupid pleasure in giving a child sweets, a fool hisbells, a dog a bone. You are repaid by seeing the child besmear his facewith sugar; by witnessing how the fool's ecstasy makes a greater fool ofhim than ever; by watching the dog's nature come out over his bone. In giving William Crimsworth his mother's picture, I give him sweets, bells, and bone all in one; what grieves me is, that I cannot beholdthe result; I would have added five shillings more to my bid if theauctioneer could only have promised me that pleasure. 

"H. Y. H. 

"P. S. --You said last night you positively declined adding another itemto your account with me; don't you think I've saved you that trouble?"

I muffled the picture in its green baize covering, restored it to thecase, and having transported the whole concern to my bed-room, put itout of sight under my bed. My pleasure was now poisoned by pungent pain;I determined to look no more till I could look at my ease. If Hunsdenhad come in at that moment, I should have said to him, "I owe younothing, Hunsden--not a fraction of a farthing: you have paid yourselfin taunts!"

Too anxious to remain any longer quiescent, I had no sooner breakfasted, than I repaired once more to M. Vandenhuten's, scarcely hoping to findhim at home; for a week had barely elapsed since my first call: butfancying I might be able to glean information as to the time when hisreturn was expected. A better result awaited me than I had anticipated, for though the family were yet at Ostend, M. Vandenhuten had come overto Brussels on business for the day. He received me with the quietkindness of a sincere though not excitable man. I had not sat fiveminutes alone with him in his bureau, before I became aware of a senseof ease in his presence, such as I rarely experienced with strangers. I was surprised at my own composure, for, after all, I had come onbusiness to me exceedingly painful--that of soliciting a favour. I askedon what basis the calm rested--I feared it might be deceptive. Ere longI caught a glimpse of the ground, and at once I felt assured of itssolidity; I knew where it was. 

M. Vandenhuten was rich, respected, and influential; I, poor, despisedand powerless; so we stood to the world at large as members of theworld's society; but to each other, as a pair of human beings, ourpositions were reversed. The Dutchman (he was not Flamand, but pureHollandais) was slow, cool, of rather dense intelligence, though soundand accurate judgment; the Englishman far more nervous, active, quickerboth to plan and to practise, to conceive and to realize. The Dutchmanwas benevolent, the Englishman susceptible; in short our charactersdovetailed, but my mind having more fire and action than his, instinctively assumed and kept the predominance. 

This point settled, and my position well ascertained, I addressed himon the subject of my affairs with that genuine frankness which fullconfidence can alone inspire. It was a pleasure to him to be so appealedto; he thanked me for giving him this opportunity of using a littleexertion in my behalf. I went on to explain to him that my wish was notso much to be helped, as to be put into the way of helping myself;of him I did not want exertion--that was to be my part--but onlyinformation and recommendation. Soon after I rose to go. He held out hishand at parting--an action of greater significance with foreignersthan with Englishmen. As I exchanged a smile with him, I thought thebenevolence of his truthful face was better than the intelligence of myown. Characters of my order experience a balm-like solace in the contactof such souls as animated the honest breast of Victor Vandenhuten. 

The next fortnight was a period of many alternations; my existenceduring its lapse resembled a sky of one of those autumnal nights whichare specially haunted by meteors and falling stars. Hopes and fears, expectations and disappointments, descended in glancing showers fromzenith to horizon; but all were transient, and darkness followed swifteach vanishing apparition. M. Vandenhuten aided me faithfully; he set meon the track of several places, and himself made efforts to securethem for me; but for a long time solicitation and recommendation werevain--the door either shut in my face when I was about to walk in, or another candidate, entering before me, rendered my further advanceuseless. Feverish and roused, no disappointment arrested me; defeatfollowing fast on defeat served as stimulants to will. I forgotfastidiousness, conquered reserve, thrust pride from me: I asked, Ipersevered, I remonstrated, I dunned. It is so that openings are forcedinto the guarded circle where Fortune sits dealing favours round. Myperseverance made me known; my importunity made me remarked. I wasinquired about; my former pupils' parents, gathering the reports oftheir children, heard me spoken of as talented, and they echoed theword: the sound, bandied about at random, came at last to ears which, but for its universality, it might never have reached; and at the verycrisis when I had tried my last effort and knew not what to do, Fortunelooked in at me one morning, as I sat in drear and almost desperatedeliberation on my bedstead, nodded with the familiarity of an oldacquaintance--though God knows I had never met her before--and threw aprize into my lap. 

In the second week of October, 18--, I got the appointment of Englishprofessor to all the classes of ---- College, Brussels, with a salaryof three thousand francs per annum; and the certainty of being able, bydint of the reputation and publicity accompanying the position, to makeas much more by private means. The official notice, which communicatedthis information, mentioned also that it was the strong recommendationof M. Vandenhuten, negociant, which had turned the scale of choice in myfavour. 

No sooner had I read the announcement than I hurried to M. Vandenhuten'sbureau, pushed the document under his nose, and when he had perusedit, took both his hands, and thanked him with unrestrained vivacity. My vivid words and emphatic gesture moved his Dutch calm to unwontedsensation. He said he was happy--glad to have served me; but he haddone nothing meriting such thanks. He had not laid out a centime--onlyscratched a few words on a sheet of paper. 

Again I repeated to him--

"You have made me quite happy, and in a way that suits me; I do notfeel an obligation irksome, conferred by your kind hand; I do not feeldisposed to shun you because you have done me a favour; from this dayyou must consent to admit me to your intimate acquaintance, for I shallhereafter recur again and again to the pleasure of your society. "

"Ainsi soit-il, " was the reply, accompanied by a smile of benignantcontent. I went away with its sunshine in my heart. 

CHAPTER XXIII

IT was two o'clock when I returned to my lodgings; my dinner, justbrought in from a neighbouring hotel, smoked on the table; I sat downthinking to eat--had the plate been heaped with potsherds and brokenglass, instead of boiled beef and haricots, I could not have made a moresignal failure: appetite had forsaken me. Impatient of seeing foodwhich I could not taste, I put it all aside into a cupboard, and thendemanded, "What shall I do till evening?" for before six P. M. It wouldbe vain to seek the Rue Notre Dame aux Neiges; its inhabitant (for meit had but one) was detained by her vocation elsewhere. I walked in thestreets of Brussels, and I walked in my own room from two o'clocktill six; never once in that space of time did I sit down. I was in mychamber when the last-named hour struck; I had just bathed my face andfeverish hands, and was standing near the glass; my cheek was crimson, my eye was flame, still all my features looked quite settled andcalm. Descending swiftly the stair and stepping out, I was glad to seeTwilight drawing on in clouds; such shade was to me like a gratefulscreen, and the chill of latter Autumn, breathing in a fitful wind fromthe north-west, met me as a refreshing coolness. Still I saw it was coldto others, for the women I passed were wrapped in shawls, and the menhad their coats buttoned close. 

When are we quite happy? Was I so then? No; an urgent and growing dreadworried my nerves, and had worried them since the first moment goodtidings had reached me. How was Frances? It was ten weeks since I hadseen her, six since I had heard from her, or of her. I had answeredher letter by a brief note, friendly but calm, in which no mention ofcontinued correspondence or further visits was made. At that hour mybark hung on the topmost curl of a wave of fate, and I knew not on whatshoal the onward rush of the billow might hurl it; I would not thenattach her destiny to mine by the slightest thread; if doomed to spliton the rock, or run a aground on the sand-bank, I was resolved no othervessel should share my disaster: but six weeks was a long time; andcould it be that she was still well and doing well? Were not all sagesagreed in declaring that happiness finds no climax on earth? DaredI think that but half a street now divided me from the full cup ofcontentment--the draught drawn from waters said to flow only in heaven?

I was at the door; I entered the quiet house; I mounted the stairs; thelobby was void and still, all the doors closed; I looked for the neatgreen mat; it lay duly in its place. 

"Signal of hope!" I said, and advanced. "But I will be a little calmer;I am not going to rush in, and get up a scene directly. " Forciblystaying my eager step, I paused on the mat. 

"What an absolute hush! Is she in? Is anybody in?" I demanded tomyself. A little tinkle, as of cinders falling from a grate, replied;a movement--a fire was gently stirred; and the slight rustle of lifecontinuing, a step paced equably backwards and forwards, backwards andforwards, in the apartment. Fascinated, I stood, more fixedly fascinatedwhen a voice rewarded the attention of my strained ear--so low, soself-addressed, I never fancied the speaker otherwise than alone;solitude might speak thus in a desert, or in the hall of a forsakenhouse. 

 "'And ne'er but once, my son, ' he said, 'Was yon dark cavern trod; In persecution's iron days, When the land was left by God. From Bewley's bog, with slaughter red, A wanderer hither drew; And oft he stopp'd and turn'd his head, As by fits the night-winds blew. For trampling round by Cheviot-edge Were heard the troopers keen; And frequent from the Whitelaw ridge The death-shot flash'd between, '" &c. &c. 

The old Scotch ballad was partly recited, then dropt; a pause ensued;then another strain followed, in French, of which the purport, translated, ran as follows:--

 I gave, at first, attention close; Then interest warm ensued; From interest, as improvement rose, Succeeded gratitude. 

 Obedience was no effort soon, And labour was no pain; If tired, a word, a glance alone Would give me strength again. 

 From others of the studious band, Ere long he singled me; But only by more close demand, And sterner urgency. 

 The task he from another took, From me he did reject; He would no slight omission brook, And suffer no defect. 

 If my companions went astray, He scarce their wanderings blam'd; If I but falter'd in the way, His anger fiercely flam'd. 

Something stirred in an adjoining chamber; it would not do to besurprised eaves-dropping; I tapped hastily, And as hastily entered. Frances was just before me; she had been walking slowly in her room, and her step was checked by my advent: Twilight only was with her, andtranquil, ruddy Firelight; to these sisters, the Bright and the Dark, she had been speaking, ere I entered, in poetry. Sir Walter Scott'svoice, to her a foreign, far-off sound, a mountain echo, had uttereditself in the first stanzas; the second, I thought, from the style andthe substance, was the language of her own heart. Her face was grave, its expression concentrated; she bent on me an unsmiling eye--an eyejust returning from abstraction, just awaking from dreams: well-arrangedwas her simple attire, smooth her dark hair, orderly her tranquil room;but what--with her thoughtful look, her serious self-reliance, herbent to meditation and haply inspiration--what had she to do with love?"Nothing, " was the answer of her own sad, though gentle countenance; itseemed to say, "I must cultivate fortitude and cling to poetry; one isto be my support and the other my solace through life. Human affectionsdo not bloom, nor do human passions glow for me. " Other women have suchthoughts. Frances, had she been as desolate as she deemed, would nothave been worse off than thousands of her sex. Look at the rigid andformal race of old maids--the race whom all despise; they have fedthemselves, from youth upwards, on maxims of resignation and endurance. Many of them get ossified with the dry diet; self-control is socontinually their thought, so perpetually their object, that at lastit absorbs the softer and more agreeable qualities of their nature; andthey die mere models of austerity, fashioned out of a little parchmentand much bone. Anatomists will tell you that there is a heart in thewithered old maid's carcase--the same as in that of any cherished wifeor proud mother in the land. Can this be so? I really don't know; butfeel inclined to doubt it. 

I came forward, bade Frances "good evening, " and took my seat. The chairI had chosen was one she had probably just left; it stood by a littletable where were her open desk and papers. I know not whether she hadfully recognized me at first, but she did so now; and in a voice, softbut quiet, she returned my greeting. I had shown no eagerness; she tookher cue from me, and evinced no surprise. We met as me had always met, as master and pupil--nothing more. I proceeded to handle the papers;Frances, observant and serviceable, stepped into an inner room, broughta candle, lit it, placed it by me; then drew the curtain over thelattice, and having added a little fresh fuel to the already brightfire, she drew a second chair to the table and sat down at my righthand, a little removed. The paper on the top was a translation ofsome grave French author into English, but underneath lay a sheet withstanzas; on this I laid hands. Frances half rose, made a movement torecover the captured spoil, saying, that was nothing--a mere copy ofverses. I put by resistance with the decision I knew she never longopposed; but on this occasion her fingers had fastened on the paper. Ihad quietly to unloose them; their hold dissolved to my touch; her handshrunk away; my own would fain have followed it, but for the present Iforbade such impulse. The first page of the sheet was occupied withthe lines I had overheard; the sequel was not exactly the writer's ownexperience, but a composition by portions of that experience suggested. Thus while egotism was avoided, the fancy was exercised, and the heartsatisfied. I translate as before, and my translation is nearly literal;it continued thus:--

 When sickness stay'd awhile my course, He seem'd impatient still, Because his pupil's flagging force Could not obey his will. 

 One day when summoned to the bed Where pain and I did strive, I heard him, as he bent his head, Say, "God, she must revive!"

 I felt his hand, with gentle stress, A moment laid on mine, And wished to mark my consciousness By some responsive sign. 

 But pow'rless then to speak or move, I only felt, within, The sense of Hope, the strength of Love, Their healing work begin. 

 And as he from the room withdrew, My heart his steps pursued; I long'd to prove, by efforts new; My speechless gratitude. 

 When once again I took my place, Long vacant, in the class, Th' unfrequent smile across his face Did for one moment pass. 

 The lessons done; the signal made Of glad release and play, He, as he passed, an instant stay'd, One kindly word to say. 

 "Jane, till to-morrow you are free From tedious task and rule; This afternoon I must not see That yet pale face in school. 

 "Seek in the garden-shades a seat, Far from the play-ground din; The sun is warm, the air is sweet: Stay till I call you in. "

 A long and pleasant afternoon I passed in those green bowers; All silent, tranquil, and alone With birds, and bees, and flowers. 

 Yet, when my master's voice I heard Call, from the window, "Jane!" I entered, joyful, at the word, The busy house again. 

 He, in the hall, paced up and down; He paused as I passed by; His forehead stern relaxed its frown: He raised his deep-set eye. 

 "Not quite so pale, " he murmured low. "Now Jane, go rest awhile. " And as I smiled, his smoothened brow Returned as glad a smile. 

 My perfect health restored, he took His mien austere again; And, as before, he would not brook The slightest fault from Jane. 

 The longest task, the hardest theme Fell to my share as erst, And still I toiled to place my name In every study first. 

 He yet begrudged and stinted praise, But I had learnt to read The secret meaning of his face, And that was my best meed. 

 Even when his hasty temper spoke In tones that sorrow stirred, My grief was lulled as soon as woke By some relenting word. 

 And when he lent some precious book, Or gave some fragrant flower, I did not quail to Envy's look, Upheld by Pleasure's power. 

 At last our school ranks took their ground, The hard-fought field I won; The prize, a laurel-wreath, was bound My throbbing forehead on. 

 Low at my master's knee I bent, The offered crown to meet; Its green leaves through my temples sent A thrill as wild as sweet. 

 The strong pulse of Ambition struck In every vein I owned; At the same instant, bleeding broke A secret, inward wound. 

 The hour of triumph was to me The hour of sorrow sore; A day hence I must cross the sea, Ne'er to recross it more. 

 An hour hence, in my master's room I with him sat alone, And told him what a dreary gloom O'er joy had parting thrown. 

 He little said; the time was brief, The ship was soon to sail, And while I sobbed in bitter grief, My master but looked pale. 

 They called in haste; he bade me go, Then snatched me back again; He held me fast and murmured low, "Why will they part us, Jane?"

 "Were you not happy in my care? Did I not faithful prove? Will others to my darling bear As true, as deep a love?

 "O God, watch o'er my foster child! O guard her gentle head! When minds are high and tempests wild Protection round her spread!

 "They call again; leave then my breast; Quit thy true shelter, Jane; But when deceived, repulsed, opprest, Come home to me again!"

I read--then dreamily made marks on the margin with my pencil; thinkingall the while of other things; thinking that "Jane" was now at my side;no child, but a girl of nineteen; and she might be mine, so my heartaffirmed; Poverty's curse was taken off me; Envy and Jealousy werefar away, and unapprized of this our quiet meeting; the frost of theMaster's manner might melt; I felt the thaw coming fast, whether I wouldor not; no further need for the eye to practise a hard look, for thebrow to compress its expense into a stern fold: it was now permittedto suffer the outward revelation of the inward glow--to seek, demand, elicit an answering ardour. While musing thus, I thought that the grasson Hermon never drank the fresh dews of sunset more gratefully than myfeelings drank the bliss of this hour. 

Frances rose, as if restless; she passed before me to stir the fire, which did not want stirring; she lifted and put down the littleornaments on the mantelpiece; her dress waved within a yard of me;slight, straight, and elegant, she stood erect on the hearth. 

There are impulses we can control; but there are others which controlus, because they attain us with a tiger-leap, and are our masters erewe have seen them. Perhaps, though, such impulses are seldom altogetherbad; perhaps Reason, by a process as brief as quiet, a process thatis finished ere felt, has ascertained the sanity of the deed Instinctmeditates, and feels justified in remaining passive while it isperformed. I know I did not reason, I did not plan or intend, yet, whereas one moment I was sitting solus on the chair near the table, the next, I held Frances on my knee, placed there with sharpness anddecision, and retained with exceeding tenacity. 

"Monsieur!" cried Frances, and was still: not another word escaped herlips; sorely confounded she seemed during the lapse of the first fewmoments; but the amazement soon subsided; terror did not succeed, norfury: after all, she was only a little nearer than she had ever beenbefore, to one she habitually respected and trusted; embarrassment mighthave impelled her to contend, but self-respect checked resistance whereresistance was useless. 

"Frances, how much regard have you for me?" was my demand. No answer;the situation was yet too new and surprising to permit speech. On thisconsideration, I compelled myself for some seconds to tolerate hersilence, though impatient of it: presently, I repeated the samequestion--probably, not in the calmest of tones; she looked at me; myface, doubtless, was no model of composure, my eyes no still wells oftranquillity. 

"Do speak, " I urged; and a very low, hurried, yet still arch voicesaid--

"Monsieur, vous me faites mal; de grace lachez un peu ma main droite. "

In truth I became aware that I was holding the said "main droite" ina somewhat ruthless grasp: I did as desired; and, for the third time, asked more gently--

"Frances, how much regard have you for me?"

"Mon maitre, j'en ai beaucoup, " was the truthful rejoinder. 

"Frances, have you enough to give yourself to me as my wife?--to acceptme as your husband?"

I felt the agitation of the heart, I saw "the purple light of love" castits glowing reflection on cheeks, temples, neck; I desired to consultthe eye, but sheltering lash and lid forbade. 

"Monsieur, " said the soft voice at last, --"Monsieur desire savoir si jeconsens--si--enfin, si je veux me marier avec lui?"

"Justement. "

"Monsieur sera-t-il aussi bon mari qu'il a ete bon maitre?"

"I will try, Frances. "

A pause; then with a new, yet still subdued inflexion of the voice--aninflexion which provoked while it pleased me--accompanied, too, by a"sourire a la fois fin et timide" in perfect harmony with the tone:--

"C'est a dire, monsieur sera toujours un peu entete exigeant, volontaire--?"

"Have I been so, Frances?"

"Mais oui; vous le savez bien. "

"Have I been nothing else?"

"Mais oui; vons avez ete mon meilleur ami. "

"And what, Frances, are you to me?"

"Votre devouee eleve, qui vous aime de tout son coeur. "

"Will my pupil consent to pass her life with me? Speak English now, Frances. "

Some moments were taken for reflection; the answer, pronounced slowly, ran thus:--

"You have always made me happy; I like to hear you speak; I like tosee you; I like to be near you; I believe you are very good, and verysuperior; I know you are stern to those who are careless and idle, butyou are kind, very kind to the attentive and industrious, even if theyare not clever. Master, I should be GLAD to live with you always;"and she made a sort of movement, as if she would have clung to me, butrestraining herself she only added with earnest emphasis--"Master, Iconsent to pass my life with you. "

"Very well, Frances. "

I drew her a little nearer to my heart; I took a first kiss from herlips, thereby sealing the compact, now framed between us; afterwards sheand I were silent, nor was our silence brief. Frances' thoughts, duringthis interval, I know not, nor did I attempt to guess them; I was notoccupied in searching her countenance, nor in otherwise troubling hercomposure. The peace I felt, I wished her to feel; my arm, it is true, still detained her; but with a restraint that was gentle enough, so longas no opposition tightened it. My gaze was on the red fire; my heart wasmeasuring its own content; it sounded and sounded, and found the depthfathomless. 

"Monsieur, " at last said my quiet companion, as stirless in herhappiness as a mouse in its terror. Even now in speaking she scarcelylifted her head. 

"Well, Frances?" I like unexaggerated intercourse; it is not my way tooverpower with amorous epithets, any more than to worry with selfishlyimportunate caresses. 

"Monsieur est raisonnable, n'eut-ce pas?"

"Yes; especially when I am requested to be so in English: but why doyou ask me? You see nothing vehement or obtrusive in my manner; am I nottranquil enough?"

"Ce n'est pas cela--" began Frances. 

"English!" I reminded her. 

"Well, monsieur, I wished merely to say, that I should like, of course, to retain my employment of teaching. You will teach still, I suppose, monsieur?"

"Oh, yes! It is all I have to depend on. "

"Bon!--I mean good. Thus we shall have both the same profession. I likethat; and my efforts to get on will be as unrestrained as yours--willthey not, monsieur?"

"You are laying plans to be independent of me, " said I. 

"Yes, monsieur; I must be no incumbrance to you--no burden in any way. "

"But, Frances, I have not yet told you what my prospects are. I haveleft M. Pelet's; and after nearly a month's seeking, I have got anotherplace, with a salary of three thousand francs a year, which I can easilydouble by a little additional exertion. Thus you see it would be uselessfor you to fag yourself by going out to give lessons; on six thousandfrancs you and I can live, and live well. "

Frances seemed to consider. There is something flattering to man'sstrength, something consonant to his honourable pride, in the idea ofbecoming the providence of what he loves--feeding and clothing it, asGod does the lilies of the field. So, to decide her resolution, I wenton:--

"Life has been painful and laborious enough to you so far, Frances; yourequire complete rest; your twelve hundred francs would not form a veryimportant addition to our income, and what sacrifice of comfort to earnit! Relinquish your labours: you must be weary, and let me have thehappiness of giving you rest. "

I am not sure whether Frances had accorded due attention to my harangue;instead of answering me with her usual respectful promptitude, she onlysighed and said, --

"How rich you are, monsieur!" and then she stirred uneasy in myarms. "Three thousand francs!" she murmured, "While I get only twelvehundred!" She went on faster. "However, it must be so for the present;and, monsieur, were you not saying something about my giving up myplace? Oh no! I shall hold it fast;" and her little fingers emphaticallytightened on mine. 

"Think of my marrying you to be kept by you, monsieur! I could not doit; and how dull my days would be! You would be away teaching in close, noisy school-rooms, from morning till evening, and I should be lingeringat home, unemployed and solitary; I should get depressed and sullen, andyou would soon tire of me. "

"Frances, you could read and study--two things you like so well. "

"Monsieur, I could not; I like a contemplative life, but I like anactive life better; I must act in some way, and act with you. I havetaken notice, monsieur, that people who are only in each other's companyfor amusement, never really like each other so well, or esteem eachother so highly, as those who work together, and perhaps suffertogether. "

"You speak God's truth, " said I at last, "and you shall have your ownway, for it is the best way. Now, as a reward for such ready consent, give me a voluntary kiss. "

After some hesitation, natural to a novice in the art of kissing, shebrought her lips into very shy and gentle contact with my forehead; Itook the small gift as a loan, and repaid it promptly, and with generousinterest. 

I know not whether Frances was really much altered since the timeI first saw her; but, as I looked at her now, I felt that she wassingularly changed for me; the sad eye, the pale cheek, the dejectedand joyless countenance I remembered as her early attributes, were quitegone, and now I saw a face dressed in graces; smile, dimple, androsy tint, rounded its contours and brightened its hues. I had beenaccustomed to nurse a flattering idea that my strong attachment to herproved some particular perspicacity in my nature; she was not handsome, she was not rich, she was not even accomplished, yet was she my life'streasure; I must then be a man of peculiar discernment. To-night my eyesopened on the mistake I had made; I began to suspect that it was only mytastes which were unique, not my power of discovering and appreciatingthe superiority of moral worth over physical charms. For me Franceshad physical charms: in her there was no deformity to get over; none ofthose prominent defects of eyes, teeth, complexion, shape, which hold atbay the admiration of the boldest male champions of intellect (forwomen can love a downright ugly man if he be but talented); had she beeneither "edentee, myope, rugueuse, ou bossue, " my feelings towardsher might still have been kindly, but they could never have beenimpassioned; I had affection for the poor little misshapen Sylvie, butfor her I could never have had love. It is true Frances' mental pointshad been the first to interest me, and they still retained the strongesthold on my preference; but I liked the graces of her person too. Iderived a pleasure, purely material, from contemplating the clearnessof her brown eyes, the fairness of her fine skin, the purity of herwell-set teeth, the proportion of her delicate form; and that pleasureI could ill have dispensed with. It appeared, then, that I too was asensualist, in my temperate and fastidious way. 

Now, reader, during the last two pages I have been giving you honeyfresh from flowers, but you must not live entirely on food so luscious;taste then a little gall--just a drop, by way of change. 

At a somewhat late hour I returned to my lodgings: having temporarilyforgotten that man had any such coarse cares as those of eating anddrinking, I went to bed fasting. I had been excited and in action allday, and had tasted no food since eight that morning; besides, for afortnight past, I had known no rest either of body or mind; the last fewhours had been a sweet delirium, it would not subside now, and till longafter midnight, broke with troubled ecstacy the rest I so much needed. At last I dozed, but not for long; it was yet quite dark when I awoke, and my waking was like that of Job when a spirit passed before his face, and like him, "the hair of my flesh stood up. " I might continue theparallel, for in truth, though I saw nothing, yet "a thing was secretlybrought unto me, and mine ear received a little thereof; there wassilence, and I heard a voice, " saying--"In the midst of life we are indeath. "

That sound, and the sensation of chill anguish accompanying it, manywould have regarded as supernatural; but I recognized it at once as theeffect of reaction. Man is ever clogged with his mortality, and it wasmy mortal nature which now faltered and plained; my nerves, which jarredand gave a false sound, because the soul, of late rushing headlong to anaim, had overstrained the body's comparative weakness. A horror of greatdarkness fell upon me; I felt my chamber invaded by one I had knownformerly, but had thought for ever departed. I was temporarily a prey tohypochondria. 

She had been my acquaintance, nay, my guest, once before in boyhood; Ihad entertained her at bed and board for a year; for that space of timeI had her to myself in secret; she lay with me, she ate with me, shewalked out with me, showing me nooks in woods, hollows in hills, wherewe could sit together, and where she could drop her drear veil over me, and so hide sky and sun, grass and green tree; taking me entirely to herdeath-cold bosom, and holding me with arms of bone. What tales she wouldtell me at such hours! What songs she would recite in my ears! How shewould discourse to me of her own country--the grave--and again and againpromise to conduct me there ere long; and, drawing me to the very brinkof a black, sullen river, show me, on the other side, shores unequalwith mound, monument, and tablet, standing up in a glimmer more hoarythan moonlight. "Necropolis!" she would whisper, pointing to the palepiles, and add, "It contains a mansion prepared for you. "

But my boyhood was lonely, parentless; uncheered by brother or sister;and there was no marvel that, just as I rose to youth, a sorceress, finding me lost in vague mental wanderings, with many affections and fewobjects, glowing aspirations and gloomy prospects, strong desires andslender hopes, should lift up her illusive lamp to me in the distance, and lure me to her vaulted home of horrors. No wonder her spellsTHEN had power; but NOW, when my course was widening, my prospectbrightening; when my affections had found a rest; when my desires, folding wings, weary with long flight, had just alighted on the very lapof fruition, and nestled there warm, content, under the caress of a softhand--why did hypochondria accost me now?

I repulsed her as one would a dreaded and ghastly concubine coming toembitter a husband's heart toward his young bride; in vain; she kept hersway over me for that night and the next day, and eight succeeding days. Afterwards, my spirits began slowly to recover their tone; my appetitereturned, and in a fortnight I was well. I had gone about as usual allthe time, and had said nothing to anybody of what I felt; but I was gladwhen the evil spirit departed from me, and I could again seek Frances, and sit at her side, freed from the dreadful tyranny of my demon. 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

ONE fine, frosty Sunday in November, Frances and I took a long walk; wemade the tour of the city by the Boulevards; and, afterwards, Francesbeing a little tired, we sat down on one of those wayside seats placedunder the trees, at intervals, for the accommodation of the weary. Frances was telling me about Switzerland; the subject animated her;and I was just thinking that her eyes spoke full as eloquently as hertongue, when she stopped and remarked--

"Monsieur, there is a gentleman who knows you. "

I looked up; three fashionably dressed men were just thenpassing--Englishmen, I knew by their air and gait as well as by theirfeatures; in the tallest of the trio I at once recognized Mr. Hunsden;he was in the act of lifting his hat to Frances; afterwards, he made agrimace at me, and passed on. 

"Who is he?"

"A person I knew in England. "

"Why did he bow to me? He does not know me. "

"Yes, he does know you, in his way. "

"How, monsieur?" (She still called me "monsieur"; I could not persuadeher to adopt any more familiar term. )

"Did you not read the expression of his eyes?"

"Of his eyes? No. What did they say?"

"To you they said, 'How do you do, Wilhelmina, Crimsworth?' To me, 'Soyou have found your counterpart at last; there she sits, the female ofyour kind!'"

"Monsieur, you could not read all that in his eyes; He was so soongone. "

"I read that and more, Frances; I read that he will probably call on methis evening, or on some future occasion shortly; and I have no doubthe will insist on being introduced to you; shall I bring him to yourrooms?"

"If you please, monsieur--I have no objection; I think, indeed, I shouldrather like to see him nearer; he looks so original. "

As I had anticipated, Mr. Hunsden came that evening. The first thing hesaid was:--

"You need not begin boasting, Monsieur le Professeur; I know about yourappointment to ---- College, and all that; Brown has told me. " Thenhe intimated that he had returned from Germany but a day or two since;afterwards, he abruptly demanded whether that was Madame Pelet-Reuterwith whom he had seen me on the Boulevards. I was going to utter arather emphatic negative, but on second thoughts I checked myself, and, seeming to assent, asked what he thought of her?

"As to her, I'll come to that directly; but first I've a word for you. Isee you are a scoundrel; you've no business to be promenading about withanother man's wife. I thought you had sounder sense than to get mixed upin foreign hodge-podge of this sort. "

"But the lady?"

"She's too good for you evidently; she is like you, but something betterthan you--no beauty, though; yet when she rose (for I looked back tosee you both walk away) I thought her figure and carriage good. Theseforeigners understand grace. What the devil has she done with Pelet? Shehas not been married to him three months--he must be a spoon!"

I would not let the mistake go too far; I did not like it much. 

"Pelet? How your head runs on Mons. And Madame Pelet! You are alwaystalking about them. I wish to the gods you had wed Mdlle. Zoraideyourself!"

"Was that young gentlewoman not Mdlle. Zoraide?"

"No; nor Madame Zoraide either. "

"Why did you tell a lie, then?"

"I told no lie; but you are is such a hurry. She is a pupil of mine--aSwiss girl. "

"And of course you are going to be married to her? Don't deny that. "

"Married! I think I shall--if Fate spares us both ten weeks longer. Thatis my little wild strawberry, Hunsden, whose sweetness made me carelessof your hothouse grapes. "

"Stop! No boasting--no heroics; I won't hear them. What is she? To whatcaste does she belong?"

I smiled. Hunsden unconsciously laid stress on the word caste, and, infact, republican, lordhater as he was, Hunsden was as proud of his old----shire blood, of his descent and family standing, respectable andrespected through long generations back, as any peer in the realm ofhis Norman race and Conquest-dated title. Hunsden would as little havethought of taking a wife from a caste inferior to his own, as a Stanleywould think of mating with a Cobden. I enjoyed the surprise I shouldgive; I enjoyed the triumph of my practice over his theory; and leaningover the table, and uttering the words slowly but with repressed glee, Isaid concisely--

"She is a lace-mender. "

Hunsden examined me. He did not SAY he was surprised, but surprised hewas; he had his own notions of good breeding. I saw he suspected Iwas going to take some very rash step; but repressing declamation orremonstrance, he only answered--

"Well, you are the best; judge of your own affairs. A lace-mender maymake a good wife as well as a lady; but of course you have taken careto ascertain thoroughly that since she has not education, fortune orstation, she is well furnished with such natural qualities as you thinkmost likely to conduce to your happiness. Has she many relations?"

"None in Brussels. "

"That is better. Relations are often the real evil in such cases. Icannot but think that a train of inferior connections would have been abore to you to your life's end. "

After sitting in silence a little while longer, Hunsden rose, and wasquietly bidding me good evening; the polite, considerate manner in whichhe offered me his hand (a thing he had never done before), convinced methat he thought I had made a terrible fool of myself; and that, ruinedand thrown away as I was, it was no time for sarcasm or cynicism, orindeed for anything but indulgence and forbearance. 

"Good night, William, " he said, in a really soft voice, while his facelooked benevolently compassionate. "Good night, lad. I wish you and yourfuture wife much prosperity; and I hope she will satisfy your fastidioussoul. "

I had much ado to refrain from laughing as I beheld the magnanimous pityof his mien; maintaining, however, a grave air, I said:--

"I thought you would have liked to have seen Mdlle. Henri?"

"Oh, that is the name! Yes--if it would be convenient, I should like tosee her--but----. " He hesitated. 

"Well?"

"I should on no account wish to intrude. "

"Come, then, " said I. We set out. Hunsden no doubt regarded me as arash, imprudent man, thus to show my poor little grisette sweetheart, in her poor little unfurnished grenier; but he prepared to act the realgentleman, having, in fact, the kernel of that character, under theharsh husk it pleased him to wear by way of mental mackintosh. He talkedaffably, and even gently, as we went along the street; he had never beenso civil to me in his life. We reached the house, entered, ascended thestair; on gaining the lobby, Hunsden turned to mount a narrower stairwhich led to a higher story; I saw his mind was bent on the attics. 

"Here, Mr. Hunsden, " said I quietly, tapping at Frances' door. Heturned; in his genuine politeness he was a little disconcerted athaving made the mistake; his eye reverted to the green mat, but he saidnothing. 

We walked in, and Frances rose from her seat near the table to receiveus; her mourning attire gave her a recluse, rather conventual, butwithal very distinguished look; its grave simplicity added nothingto beauty, but much to dignity; the finish of the white collar andmanchettes sufficed for a relief to the merino gown of solemn black;ornament was forsworn. Frances curtsied with sedate grace, looking, asshe always did, when one first accosted her, more a woman to respectthan to love; I introduced Mr. Hunsden, and she expressed her happinessat making his acquaintance in French. The pure and polished accent, thelow yet sweet and rather full voice, produced their effect immediately;Hunsden spoke French in reply; I had not heard him speak that languagebefore; he managed it very well. I retired to the window-seat; Mr. Hunsden, at his hostess's invitation, occupied a chair near the hearth;from my position I could see them both, and the room too, at a glance. The room was so clean and bright, it looked like a little polishedcabinet; a glass filled with flowers in the centre of the table, afresh rose in each china cup on the mantelpiece gave it an air of FETE, Frances was serious, and Mr. Hunsden subdued, but both mutually polite;they got on at the French swimmingly: ordinary topics were discussedwith great state and decorum; I thought I had never seen two such modelsof propriety, for Hunsden (thanks to the constraint of the foreigntongue) was obliged to shape his phrases, and measure his sentences, with a care that forbade any eccentricity. At last England wasmentioned, and Frances proceeded to ask questions. Animated by degrees, she began to change, just as a grave night-sky changes at the approachof sunrise: first it seemed as if her forehead cleared, then her eyesglittered, her features relaxed, and became quite mobile; her subduedcomplexion grew warm and transparent; to me, she now looked pretty;before, she had only looked ladylike. 

She had many things to say to the Englishman just fresh from hisisland-country, and she urged him with an enthusiasm of curiosity, whichere long thawed Hunsden's reserve as fire thaws a congealed viper. I usethis not very flattering comparison because he vividly reminded me of asnake waking from torpor, as he erected his tall form, reared his head, before a little declined, and putting back his hair from his broad Saxonforehead, showed unshaded the gleam of almost savage satire which hisinterlocutor's tone of eagerness and look of ardour had sufficed atonce to kindle in his soul and elicit from his eyes: he was himself;as Frances was herself, and in none but his own language would he nowaddress her. 

"You understand English?" was the prefatory question. 

"A little. "

"Well, then, you shall have plenty of it; and first, I see you've notmuch more sense than some others of my acquaintance" (indicating mewith his thumb), "or else you'd never turn rabid about that dirty littlecountry called England; for rabid, I see you are; I read Anglophobia inyour looks, and hear it in your words. Why, mademoiselle, is it possiblethat anybody with a grain of rationality should feel enthusiasm about amere name, and that name England? I thought you were a lady-abbess fiveminutes ago, and respected you accordingly; and now I see you are a sortof Swiss sibyl, with high Tory and high Church principles!"

"England is your country?" asked Frances. 

"Yes. "

"And you don't like it?"

"I'd be sorry to like it! A little corrupt, venal, lord-and-king-cursednation, full of mucky pride (as they say in----shire), and helplesspauperism; rotten with abuses, worm-eaten with prejudices!"

"You might say so of almost every state; there are abuses and prejudiceseverywhere, and I thought fewer in England than in other countries. "

"Come to England and see. Come to Birmingham and Manchester; come to St. Giles' in London, and get a practical notion of how our system works. Examine the footprints of our august aristocracy; see how they walkin blood, crushing hearts as they go. Just put your head in at Englishcottage doors; get a glimpse of Famine crouched torpid on blackhearthstones; of Disease lying bare on beds without coverlets, ofInfamy wantoning viciously with Ignorance, though indeed Luxury is herfavourite paramour, and princely halls are dearer to her than thatchedhovels----"

"I was not thinking of the wretchedness and vice in England; I wasthinking of the good side--of what is elevated in your character as anation. "

"There is no good side--none at least of which you can have anyknowledge; for you cannot appreciate the efforts of industry, theachievements of enterprise, or the discoveries of science: narrownessof education and obscurity of position quite incapacitate youfrom understanding these points; and as to historical and poeticalassociations, I will not insult you, mademoiselle, by supposing that youalluded to such humbug. "

"But I did partly. "

Hunsden laughed--his laugh of unmitigated scorn. 

"I did, Mr. Hunsden. Are you of the number of those to whom suchassociations give no pleasure?"

"Mademoiselle, what is an association? I never saw one. What is itslength, breadth, weight, value--ay, VALUE? What price will it bring inthe market?"

"Your portrait, to any one who loved you, would, for the sake ofassociation, be without price. "

That inscrutable Hunsden heard this remark and felt it rather acutely, too, somewhere; for he coloured--a thing not unusual with him, when hitunawares on a tender point. A sort of trouble momentarily darkenedhis eye, and I believe he filled up the transient pause succeeding hisantagonist's home-thrust, by a wish that some one did love him ashe would like to be loved--some one whose love he could unreservedlyreturn. 

The lady pursued her temporary advantage. 

"If your world is a world without associations, Mr. Hunsden, I no longerwonder that you hate England so. I don't clearly know what Paradise is, and what angels are; yet taking it to be the most glorious region I canconceive, and angels the most elevated existences--if one of them--ifAbdiel the Faithful himself" (she was thinking of Milton) "were suddenlystripped of the faculty of association, I think he would soon rush forthfrom 'the ever-during gates, ' leave heaven, and seek what he had lost inhell. Yes, in the very hell from which he turned 'with retorted scorn. '"

Frances' tone in saying this was as marked as her language, and itwas when the word "hell" twanged off from her lips, with a somewhatstartling emphasis, that Hunsden deigned to bestow one slight glance ofadmiration. He liked something strong, whether in man or woman; he likedwhatever dared to clear conventional limits. He had never before hearda lady say "hell" with that uncompromising sort of accent, and the soundpleased him from a lady's lips; he would fain have had Frances to strikethe string again, but it was not in her way. The display of eccentricvigour never gave her pleasure, and it only sounded in her voice orflashed in her countenance when extraordinary circumstances--and thosegenerally painful--forced it out of the depths where it burned latent. To me, once or twice, she had in intimate conversation, utteredventurous thoughts in nervous language; but when the hour of suchmanifestation was past, I could not recall it; it came of itself and ofitself departed. Hunsden's excitations she put by soon with a smile, andrecurring to the theme of disputation, said--

"Since England is nothing, why do the continental nations respect herso?"

"I should have thought no child would have asked that question, " repliedHunsden, who never at any time gave information without reproving forstupidity those who asked it of him. "If you had been my pupil, as Isuppose you once had the misfortune to be that of a deplorable characternot a hundred miles off, I would have put you in the corner for such aconfession of ignorance. Why, mademoiselle, can't you see that it isour GOLD which buys us French politeness, German good-will, and Swissservility?" And he sneered diabolically. 

"Swiss?" said Frances, catching the word "servility. " "Do you call mycountrymen servile?" and she started up. I could not suppress a lowlaugh; there was ire in her glance and defiance in her attitude. "Doyou abuse Switzerland to me, Mr. Hunsden? Do you think I have noassociations? Do you calculate that I am prepared to dwell only on whatvice and degradation may be found in Alpine villages, and to leavequite out of my heart the social greatness of my countrymen, and ourblood-earned freedom, and the natural glories of our mountains? You'remistaken--you're mistaken. "

"Social greatness? Call it what you will, your countrymen are sensiblefellows; they make a marketable article of what to you is an abstractidea; they have, ere this, sold their social greatness and also theirblood-earned freedom to be the servants of foreign kings. "

"You never were in Switzerland?"

"Yes--I have been there twice. "

"You know nothing of it. "

"I do. "

"And you say the Swiss are mercenary, as a parrot says 'Poor Poll, ' oras the Belgians here say the English are not brave, or as the Frenchaccuse them of being perfidious: there is no justice in your dictums. "

"There is truth. "

"I tell you, Mr. Hunsden, you are a more unpractical man than I am anunpractical woman, for you don't acknowledge what really exists; youwant to annihilate individual patriotism and national greatness asan atheist would annihilate God and his own soul, by denying theirexistence. "

"Where are you flying to? You are off at a tangent--I thought we weretalking about the mercenary nature of the Swiss. "

"We were--and if you proved to me that the Swiss are mercenary to-morrow(which you cannot do) I should love Switzerland still. "

"You would be mad, then--mad as a March hare--to indulge in a passionfor millions of shiploads of soil, timber, snow, and ice. "

"Not so mad as you who love nothing. "

"There's a method in my madness; there's none in yours. "

"Your method is to squeeze the sap out of creation and make manure ofthe refuse, by way of turning it to what you call use. "

"You cannot reason at all, " said Hunsden; "there is no logic in you. "

"Better to be without logic than without feeling, " retorted Frances, whowas now passing backwards and forwards from her cupboard to the table, intent, if not on hospitable thoughts, at least on hospitable deeds, forshe was laying the cloth, and putting plates, knives and forks thereon. 

"Is that a hit at me, mademoiselle? Do you suppose I am withoutfeeling?"

"I suppose you are always interfering with your own feelings, and thoseof other people, and dogmatizing about the irrationality of this, that, and the other sentiment, and then ordering it to be suppressed becauseyou imagine it to be inconsistent with logic. "

"I do right. "

Frances had stepped out of sight into a sort of little pantry; she soonreappeared. 

"You do right? Indeed, no! You are much mistaken if you think so. Justbe so good as to let me get to the fire, Mr. Hunsden; I have somethingto cook. " (An interval occupied in settling a casserole on the fire;then, while she stirred its contents:) "Right! as if it were right tocrush any pleasurable sentiment that God has given to man, especiallyany sentiment that, like patriotism, spreads man's selfishness in widercircles" (fire stirred, dish put down before it). 

"Were you born in Switzerland?"

"I should think so, or else why should I call it my country?"

"And where did you get your English features and figure?"

"I am English, too; half the blood in my veins is English; thus I havea right to a double power of patriotism, possessing an interest in twonoble, free, and fortunate countries. "

"You had an English mother?"

"Yes, yes; and you, I suppose, had a mother from the moon or fromUtopia, since not a nation in Europe has a claim on your interest?"

"On the contrary, I'm a universal patriot, if you could understand merightly: my country is the world. "

"Sympathies so widely diffused must be very shallow: will you havethe goodness to come to table. Monsieur" (to me who appeared to be nowabsorbed in reading by moonlight)--"Monsieur, supper is served. "

This was said in quite a different voice to that in which she had beenbandying phrases with Mr. Hunsden--not so short, graver and softer. 

"Frances, what do you mean by preparing, supper? we had no intention ofstaying. "

"Ah, monsieur, but you have stayed, and supper is prepared; you haveonly the alternative of eating it. "

The meal was a foreign one, of course; it consisted in two small buttasty dishes of meat prepared with skill and served with nicety; a saladand "fromage francais, " completed it. The business of eating interposeda brief truce between the belligerents, but no sooner was supperdisposed of than they were at it again. The fresh subject of disputeran on the spirit of religious intolerance which Mr. Hunsden affirmed toexist strongly in Switzerland, notwithstanding the professed attachmentof the Swiss to freedom. Here Frances had greatly the worst of it, not only because she was unskilled to argue, but because her own realopinions on the point in question happened to coincide pretty nearlywith Mr. Hunsden's, and she only contradicted him out of opposition. Atlast she gave in, confessing that she thought as he thought, but biddinghim take notice that she did not consider herself beaten. 

"No more did the French at Waterloo, " said Hunsden. 

"There is no comparison between the cases, " rejoined Frances; "mine wasa sham fight. "

"Sham or real, it's up with you. "

"No; though I have neither logic nor wealth of words, yet in a casewhere my opinion really differed from yours, I would adhere to it whenI had not another word to say in its defence; you should be baffled bydumb determination. You speak of Waterloo; your Wellington ought to havebeen conquered there, according to Napoleon; but he persevered in spiteof the laws of war, and was victorious in defiance of military tactics. I would do as he did. "

"I'll be bound for it you would; probably you have some of the same sortof stubborn stuff in you. 

"I should be sorry if I had not; he and Tell were brothers, and I'dscorn the Swiss, man or woman, who had none of the much-enduring natureof our heroic William in his soul. "

"If Tell was like Wellington, he was an ass. "

"Does not ASS mean BAUDET?" asked Frances, turning to me. 

"No, no, " replied I, "it means an ESPRIT-FORT; and now, " I continued, asI saw that fresh occasion of strife was brewing between these two, "itis high time to go. "

Hunsden rose. "Good bye, " said he to Frances; "I shall be off for thisglorious England to-morrow, and it may be twelve months or more beforeI come to Brussels again; whenever I do come I'll seek you out, andyou shall see if I don't find means to make you fiercer than a dragon. You've done pretty well this evening, but next interview you shallchallenge me outright. Meantime you're doomed to become Mrs. WilliamCrimsworth, I suppose; poor young lady? but you have a spark of spirit;cherish it, and give the Professor the full benefit thereof. "

"Are you married. Mr. Hunsden?" asked Frances, suddenly. 

"No. I should have thought you might have guessed I was a Benedict by mylook. "

"Well, whenever you marry don't take a wife out of Switzerland; for ifyou begin blaspheming Helvetia, and cursing the cantons--above all, ifyou mention the word ASS in the same breath with the name Tell (forass IS baudet, I know; though Monsieur is pleased to translateit ESPRIT-FORT) your mountain maid will some night smother herBreton-bretonnant, even as your own Shakspeare's Othello smotheredDesdemona. "

"I am warned, " said Hunsden; "and so are you, lad, " (nodding to me). "Ihope yet to hear of a travesty of the Moor and his gentle lady, in whichthe parts shall be reversed according to the plan just sketched--you, however, being in my nightcap. Farewell, mademoiselle!" He bowed on herhand, absolutely like Sir Charles Grandison on that of Harriet Byron;adding--"Death from such fingers would not be without charms. "

"Mon Dieu!" murmured Frances, opening her large eyes and lifting herdistinctly arched brows; "c'est qu'il fait des compliments! je ne m'ysuis pas attendu. " She smiled, half in ire, half in mirth, curtsied withforeign grace, and so they parted. 

No sooner had we got into the street than Hunsden collared me. 

"And that is your lace-mender?" said he; "and you reckon you have donea fine, magnanimous thing in offering to marry her? You, a scion ofSeacombe, have proved your disdain of social distinctions by taking upwith an ouvriere! And I pitied the fellow, thinking his feelings hadmisled him, and that he had hurt himself by contracting a low match!"

"Just let go my collar, Hunsden. "

"On the contrary, he swayed me to and fro; so I grappled him round thewaist. It was dark; the street lonely and lampless. We had then atug for it; and after we had both rolled on the pavement, and withdifficulty picked ourselves up, we agreed to walk on more soberly. 

"Yes, that's my lace-mender, " said I; "and she is to be mine forlife--God willing. "

"God is not willing--you can't suppose it; what business have you tobe suited so well with a partner? And she treats you with a sort ofrespect, too, and says, 'Monsieur' and modulates her tone in addressingyou, actually, as if you were something superior! She could not evincemore deference to such a one as I, were she favoured by fortune to thesupreme extent of being my choice instead of yours. "

"Hunsden, you're a puppy. But you've only seen the title-page of myhappiness; you don't know the tale that follows; you cannot conceive theinterest and sweet variety and thrilling excitement of the narrative. "

Hunsden--speaking low and deep, for we had now entered a busierstreet--desired me to hold my peace, threatening to do somethingdreadful if I stimulated his wrath further by boasting. I laughed tillmy sides ached. We soon reached his hotel; before he entered it, hesaid--

"Don't be vainglorious. Your lace-mender is too good for you, but notgood enough for me; neither physically nor morally does she come upto my ideal of a woman. No; I dream of something far beyond thatpale-faced, excitable little Helvetian (by-the-by she has infinitelymore of the nervous, mobile Parisienne in her than of the the robust'jungfrau'). Your Mdlle. Henri is in person "chetive", in mind "sanscaractere", compared with the queen of my visions. You, indeed, may putup with that "minois chiffone"; but when I marry I must have straighterand more harmonious features, to say nothing of a nobler and betterdeveloped shape than that perverse, ill-thriven child can boast. "

"Bribe a seraph to fetch you a coal of fire from heaven, if you will, "said I, "and with it kindle life in the tallest, fattest, most boneless, fullest-blooded of Ruben's painted women--leave me only my Alpine peri, and I'll not envy you. "

With a simultaneous movement, each turned his back on the other. Neithersaid "God bless you;" yet on the morrow the sea was to roll between us. 

CHAPTER XXV. 

IN two months more Frances had fulfilled the time of mourning for heraunt. One January morning--the first of the new year holidays--I went ina fiacre, accompanied only by M. Vandenhuten, to the Rue Notre Dame auxNeiges, and having alighted alone and walked upstairs, I found Francesapparently waiting for me, dressed in a style scarcely appropriate tothat cold, bright, frosty day. Never till now had I seen her attired inany other than black or sad-coloured stuff; and there she stood by thewindow, clad all in white, and white of a most diaphanous texture; herarray was very simple, to be sure, but it looked imposing and festalbecause it was so clear, full, and floating; a veil shadowed her head, and hung below her knee; a little wreath of pink flowers fastened itto her thickly tressed Grecian plait, and thence it fell softly on eachside of her face. Singular to state, she was, or had been crying; whenI asked her if she were ready, she said "Yes, monsieur, " with somethingvery like a checked sob; and when I took a shawl, which lay on thetable, and folded it round her, not only did tear after tear courseunbidden down her cheek, but she shook to my ministration like a reed. I said I was sorry to see her in such low spirits, and requested tobe allowed an insight into the origin thereof. She only said, "It wasimpossible to help it, " and then voluntarily, though hurriedly, puttingher hand into mine, accompanied me out of the room, and ran downstairswith a quick, uncertain step, like one who was eager to get someformidable piece of business over. I put her into the fiacre. M. Vandenhuten received her, and seated her beside himself; we drove alltogether to the Protestant chapel, went through a certain service in theCommon Prayer Book, and she and I came out married. M. Vandenhuten hadgiven the bride away. 

We took no bridal trip; our modesty, screened by the peaceful obscurityof our station, and the pleasant isolation of our circumstances, did notexact that additional precaution. We repaired at once to a small houseI had taken in the faubourg nearest to that part of the city where thescene of our avocations lay. 

Three or four hours after the wedding ceremony, Frances, divested of herbridal snow, and attired in a pretty lilac gown of warmer materials, a piquant black silk apron, and a lace collar with some finishingdecoration of lilac ribbon, was kneeling on the carpet of a neatlyfurnished though not spacious parlour, arranging on the shelves of achiffoniere some books, which I handed to her from the table. It wassnowing fast out of doors; the afternoon had turned out wild andcold; the leaden sky seemed full of drifts, and the street was alreadyankle-deep in the white downfall. Our fire burned bright, our newhabitation looked brilliantly clean and fresh, the furniture was allarranged, and there were but some articles of glass, china, books, &c. , to put in order. Frances found in this business occupation tilltea-time, and then, after I had distinctly instructed her how to makea cup of tea in rational English style, and after she had got over thedismay occasioned by seeing such an extravagant amount of material putinto the pot, she administered to me a proper British repast, at whichthere wanted neither candies nor urn, fire-light nor comfort. 

Our week's holiday glided by, and we readdressed ourselves to labour. Both my wife and I began in good earnest with the notion that we wereworking people, destined to earn our bread by exertion, and that of themost assiduous kind. Our days were thoroughly occupied; we used to partevery morning at eight o'clock, and not meet again till five P. M. ; butinto what sweet rest did the turmoil of each busy day decline! Lookingdown the vista, of memory, I see the evenings passed in that littleparlour like a long string of rubies circling the dusk brow of the past. Unvaried were they as each cut gem, and like each gem brilliant andburning. 

A year and a half passed. One morning (it was a FETE, and we had the dayto ourselves) Frances said to me, with a suddenness peculiar to her whenshe had been thinking long on a subject, and at last, having come toa conclusion, wished to test its soundness by the touchstone of myjudgment:--

"I don't work enough. "

"What now?" demanded I, looking up from my coffee, which I had beendeliberately stirring while enjoying, in anticipation, a walk I proposedto take with Frances, that fine summer day (it was June), to a certainfarmhouse in the country, where we were to dine. "What now?" and Isaw at once, in the serious ardour of her face, a project of vitalimportance. 

"I am not satisfied" returned she: "you are now earning eight thousandfrancs a year" (it was true; my efforts, punctuality, the fame of mypupils' progress, the publicity of my station, had so far helped meon), "while I am still at my miserable twelve hundred francs. I CAN dobetter, and I WILL. "

"You work as long and as diligently as I do, Frances. "

"Yes, monsieur, but I am not working in the right way, and I amconvinced of it. "

"You wish to change--you have a plan for progress in your mind; go andput on your bonnet; and, while we take our walk, you shall tell me ofit. "

"Yes, monsieur. "

She went--as docile as a well-trained child; she was a curious mixtureof tractability and firmness: I sat thinking about her, and wonderingwhat her plan could be, when she re-entered. 

"Monsieur, I have given Minnie" (our bonne) "leave to go out too, as itis so very fine; so will you be kind enough to lock the door, and takethe key with you?"

"Kiss me, Mrs. Crimsworth, " was my not very apposite reply; but shelooked so engaging in her light summer dress and little cottage bonnet, and her manner in speaking to me was then, as always, so unaffectedlyand suavely respectful, that my heart expanded at the sight of her, anda kiss seemed necessary to content its importunity. 

"There, monsieur. "

"Why do you always call me 'Monsieur?' Say, 'William. '"

"I cannot pronounce your W; besides, 'Monsieur' belongs to you; I likeit best. "

Minnie having departed in clean cap and smart shawl, we, too, set out, leaving the house solitary and silent--silent, at least, but forthe ticking of the clock. We were soon clear of Brussels; the fieldsreceived us, and then the lanes, remote from carriage-resoundingCHAUSSEES. Ere long we came upon a nook, so rural, green, and secluded, it might have been a spot in some pastoral English province; a bank ofshort and mossy grass, under a hawthorn, offered a seat too temptingto be declined; we took it, and when we had admired and examined someEnglish-looking wild-flowers growing at our feet, I recalled Frances'attention and my own to the topic touched on at breakfast. 

"What was her plan?" A natural one--the next step to be mounted byus, or, at least, by her, if she wanted to rise in her profession. Sheproposed to begin a school. We already had the means for commencing ona careful scale, having lived greatly within our income. We possessed, too, by this time, an extensive and eligible connection, in the senseadvantageous to our business; for, though our circle of visitingacquaintance continued as limited as ever, we were now widely known inschools and families as teachers. When Frances had developed her plan, she intimated, in some closing sentences, her hopes for the future. Ifwe only had good health and tolerable success, me might, she was sure, in time realize an independency; and that, perhaps, before we were tooold to enjoy it; then both she and I would rest; and what was to hinderus from going to live in England? England was still her Promised Land. 

I put no obstacle in her way; raised no objection; I knew she wasnot one who could live quiescent and inactive, or even comparativelyinactive. Duties she must have to fulfil, and important duties; work todo--and exciting, absorbing, profitable work; strong faculties stirredin her frame, and they demanded full nourishment, free exercise: minewas not the hand ever to starve or cramp them; no, I delighted inoffering them sustenance, and in clearing them wider space for action. 

"You have conceived a plan, Frances, " said I, "and a good plan; executeit; you have my free consent, and wherever and whenever my assistance iswanted, ask and you shall have. "

Frances' eyes thanked me almost with tears; just a sparkle or two, soonbrushed away; she possessed herself of my hand too, and held it forsome time very close clasped in both her own, but she said no more than"Thank you, monsieur. "

We passed a divine day, and came home late, lighted by a full summermoon. 

Ten years rushed now upon me with dusty, vibrating, unresting wings;years of bustle, action, unslacked endeavour; years in which I andmy wife, having launched ourselves in the full career of progress, asprogress whirls on in European capitals, scarcely knew repose, werestrangers to amusement, never thought of indulgence, and yet, asour course ran side by side, as we marched hand in hand, we neithermurmured, repented, nor faltered. Hope indeed cheered us; health kept usup; harmony of thought and deed smoothed many difficulties, and finally, success bestowed every now and then encouraging reward on diligence. Ourschool became one of the most popular in Brussels, and as by degreeswe raised our terms and elevated our system of education, our choice ofpupils grew more select, and at length included the children of thebest families in Belgium. We had too an excellent connection in England, first opened by the unsolicited recommendation of Mr. Hunsden, whohaving been over, and having abused me for my prosperity in set terms, went back, and soon after sent a leash of young ----shire heiresses--hiscousins; as he said "to be polished off by Mrs. Crimsworth. "

As to this same Mrs. Crimsworth, in one sense she was become anotherwoman, though in another she remained unchanged. So different wasshe under different circumstances. I seemed to possess two wives. Thefaculties of her nature, already disclosed when I married her, remainedfresh and fair; but other faculties shot up strong, branched outbroad, and quite altered the external character of the plant. Firmness, activity, and enterprise, covered with grave foliage, poetic feelingand fervour; but these flowers were still there, preserved pure and dewyunder the umbrage of later growth and hardier nature: perhaps I only inthe world knew the secret of their existence, but to me they were everready to yield an exquisite fragrance and present a beauty as chaste asradiant. 

In the daytime my house and establishment were conducted by Madame thedirectress, a stately and elegant woman, bearing much anxious thought onher large brow; much calculated dignity in her serious mien: immediatelyafter breakfast I used to part with this lady; I went to my college, she to her schoolroom; returning for an hour in the course of the day, I found her always in class, intently occupied; silence, industry, observance, attending on her presence. When not actually teaching, she was overlooking and guiding by eye and gesture; she then appearedvigilant and solicitous. When communicating instruction, her aspect wasmore animated; she seemed to feel a certain enjoyment in the occupation. The language in which she addressed her pupils, though simple andunpretending, was never trite or dry; she did not speak from routineformulas--she made her own phrases as she went on, and very nervousand impressive phrases they frequently were; often, when elucidatingfavourite points of history, or geography, she would wax genuinelyeloquent in her earnestness. Her pupils, or at least the elder and moreintelligent amongst them, recognized well the language of a superiormind; they felt too, and some of them received the impression ofelevated sentiments; there was little fondling between mistress andgirls, but some of Frances' pupils in time learnt to love her sincerely, all of them beheld her with respect; her general demeanour towardsthem was serious; sometimes benignant when they pleased her with theirprogress and attention, always scrupulously refined and considerate. In cases where reproof or punishment was called for she was usuallyforbearing enough; but if any took advantage of that forbearance, whichsometimes happened, a sharp, sudden and lightning-like severity taughtthe culprit the extent of the mistake committed. Sometimes a gleam oftenderness softened her eyes and manner, but this was rare; only whena pupil was sick, or when it pined after home, or in the case of somelittle motherless child, or of one much poorer than its companions, whose scanty wardrobe and mean appointments brought on it the contemptof the jewelled young countesses and silk-clad misses. Over such feeblefledglings the directress spread a wing of kindliest protection: it wasto their bedside she came at night to tuck them warmly in; it was afterthem she looked in winter to see that they always had a comfortable seatby the stove; it was they who by turns were summoned to the salon toreceive some little dole of cake or fruit--to sit on a footstool atthe fireside--to enjoy home comforts, and almost home liberty, foran evening together--to be spoken to gently and softly, comforted, encouraged, cherished--and when bedtime came, dismissed with a kissof true tenderness. As to Julia and Georgiana G----, daughters of anEnglish baronet, as to Mdlle. Mathilde de ----, heiress of a Belgiancount, and sundry other children of patrician race, the directress wascareful of them as of the others, anxious for their progress, as forthat of the rest--but it never seemed to enter her head to distinguishthem by a mark of preference; one girl of noble blood she loveddearly--a young Irish baroness--lady Catherine ----; but it was for herenthusiastic heart and clever head, for her generosity and her genius, the title and rank went for nothing. 

My afternoons were spent also in college, with the exception of an hourthat my wife daily exacted of me for her establishment, and with whichshe would not dispense. She said that I must spend that time amongst herpupils to learn their characters, to be AU COURANT with everything thatwas passing in the house, to become interested in what interested her, to be able to give her my opinion on knotty points when she required it, and this she did constantly, never allowing my interest in the pupilsto fall asleep, and never making any change of importance withoutmy cognizance and consent. She delighted to sit by me when I gave mylessons (lessons in literature), her hands folded on her knee, the mostfixedly attentive of any present. She rarely addressed me in class; whenshe did it was with an air of marked deference; it was her pleasure, herjoy to make me still the master in all things. 

At six o'clock P. M. My daily labours ceased. I then came home, formy home was my heaven; ever at that hour, as I entered our privatesitting-room, the lady-directress vanished from before my eyes, andFrances Henri, my own little lace-mender, was magically restored to myarms; much disappointed she would have been if her master had not beenas constant to the tryste as herself, and if his truthfull kiss had notbeen prompt to answer her soft, "Bon soir, monsieur. "

Talk French to me she would, and many a punishment she has had forher wilfulness. I fear the choice of chastisement must have beeninjudicious, for instead of correcting the fault, it seemed to encourageits renewal. Our evenings were our own; that recreation was necessary torefresh our strength for the due discharge of our duties; sometimes wespent them all in conversation, and my young Genevese, now that she wasthoroughly accustomed to her English professor, now that she lovedhim too absolutely to fear him much, reposed in him a confidence sounlimited that topics of conversation could no more be wanting with himthan subjects for communion with her own heart. In those moments, happyas a bird with its mate, she would show me what she had of vivacity, ofmirth, of originality in her well-dowered nature. She would show, too, some stores of raillery, of "malice, " and would vex, tease, pique mesometimes about what she called my "bizarreries anglaises, " my "capricesinsulaires, " with a wild and witty wickedness that made a perfect whitedemon of her while it lasted. This was rare, however, and the elfishfreak was always short: sometimes when driven a little hard in the warof words--for her tongue did ample justice to the pith, the point, thedelicacy of her native French, in which language she always attackedme--I used to turn upon her with my old decision, and arrest bodily thesprite that teased me. Vain idea! no sooner had I grasped hand or armthan the elf was gone; the provocative smile quenched in the expressivebrown eyes, and a ray of gentle homage shone under the lids in itsplace. I had seized a mere vexing fairy, and found a submissive andsupplicating little mortal woman in my arms. Then I made her get a book, and read English to me for an hour by way of penance. I frequently dosedher with Wordsworth in this way, and Wordsworth steadied her soon; shehad a difficulty in comprehending his deep, serene, and sober mind; hislanguage, too, was not facile to her; she had to ask questions, to suefor explanations, to be like a child and a novice, and to acknowledgeme as her senior and director. Her instinct instantly penetrated andpossessed the meaning of more ardent and imaginative writers. Byronexcited her; Scott she loved; Wordsworth only she puzzled at, wonderedover, and hesitated to pronounce an opinion upon. 

But whether she read to me, or talked with me; whether she teased mein French, or entreated me in English; whether she jested with wit, or inquired with deference; narrated with interest, or listened withattention; whether she smiled at me or on me, always at nine o'clock Iwas left abandoned. She would extricate herself from my arms, quitmy side, take her lamp, and be gone. Her mission was upstairs; I havefollowed her sometimes and watched her. First she opened the door of thedortoir (the pupils' chamber), noiselessly she glided up the long roombetween the two rows of white beds, surveyed all the sleepers; if anywere wakeful, especially if any were sad, spoke to them and soothedthem; stood some minutes to ascertain that all was safe and tranquil;trimmed the watch-light which burned in the apartment all night, thenwithdrew, closing the door behind her without sound. Thence she glidedto our own chamber; it had a little cabinet within; this she sought;there, too, appeared a bed, but one, and that a very small one; her face(the night I followed and observed her) changed as she approached thistiny couch; from grave it warmed to earnest; she shaded with one handthe lamp she held in the other; she bent above the pillow and hungover a child asleep; its slumber (that evening at least, and usually, I believe) was sound and calm; no tear wet its dark eyelashes; no feverheated its round cheek; no ill dream discomposed its budding features. Frances gazed, she did not smile, and yet the deepest delight filled, flushed her face; feeling pleasurable, powerful, worked in her wholeframe, which still was motionless. I saw, indeed, her heart heave, herlips were a little apart, her breathing grew somewhat hurried; the childsmiled; then at last the mother smiled too, and said in low soliloquy, "God bless my little son!" She stooped closer over him, breathed thesoftest of kisses on his brow, covered his minute hand with hers, andat last started up and came away. I regained the parlour before her. Entering it two minutes later she said quietly as she put down herextinguished lamp--

"Victor rests well: he smiled in his sleep; he has your smile, monsieur. "

The said Victor was of course her own boy, born in the third year ofour marriage: his Christian name had been given him in honour of M. Vandenhuten, who continued always our trusty and well-beloved friend. 

Frances was then a good and dear wife to me, because I was to her agood, just, and faithful husband. What she would have been had shemarried a harsh, envious, careless man--a profligate, a prodigal, a drunkard, or a tyrant--is another question, and one which I oncepropounded to her. Her answer, given after some reflection, was--

"I should have tried to endure the evil or cure it for awhile; and whenI found it intolerable and incurable, I should have left my torturersuddenly and silently. "

"And if law or might had forced you back again?"

"What, to a drunkard, a profligate, a selfish spendthrift, an unjustfool?"

"Yes. "

"I would have gone back; again assured myself whether or not his viceand my misery were capable of remedy; and if not, have left him again. "

"And if again forced to return, and compelled to abide?"

"I don't know, " she said, hastily. "Why do you ask me, monsieur?"

I would have an answer, because I saw a strange kind of spirit in hereye, whose voice I determined to waken. 

"Monsieur, if a wife's nature loathes that of the man she is wedded to, marriage must be slavery. Against slavery all right thinkers revolt, andthough torture be the price of resistance, torture must be dared: thoughthe only road to freedom lie through the gates of death, those gatesmust be passed; for freedom is indispensable. Then, monsieur, I wouldresist as far as my strength permitted; when that strength failed Ishould be sure of a refuge. Death would certainly screen me both frombad laws and their consequences. "

"Voluntary death, Frances?"

"No, monsieur. I'd have courage to live out every throe of anguish fateassigned me, and principle to contend for justice and liberty to thelast. "

"I see you would have made no patient Grizzle. And now, supposing fatehad merely assigned you the lot of an old maid, what then? How would youhave liked celibacy?"

"Not much, certainly. An old maid's life must doubtless be void andvapid--her heart strained and empty. Had I been an old maid I shouldhave spent existence in efforts to fill the void and ease the aching. Ishould have probably failed, and died weary and disappointed, despisedand of no account, like other single women. But I'm not an old maid, "she added quickly. "I should have been, though, but for my master. Ishould never have suited any man but Professor Crimsworth--no othergentleman, French, English, or Belgian, would have thought me amiable orhandsome; and I doubt whether I should have cared for the approbationof many others, if I could have obtained it. Now, I have been ProfessorCrimsworth's wife eight years, and what is he in my eyes? Is hehonourable, beloved ----?" She stopped, her voice was cut off, her eyessuddenly suffused. She and I were standing side by side; she threw herarms round me, and strained me to her heart with passionate earnestness:the energy of her whole being glowed in her dark and then dilatedeye, and crimsoned her animated cheek; her look and movement were likeinspiration; in one there was such a flash, in the other such a power. Half an hour afterwards, when she had become calm, I asked where allthat wild vigour was gone which had transformed her ere-while and madeher glance so thrilling and ardent--her action so rapid and strong. Shelooked down, smiling softly and passively:--

"I cannot tell where it is gone, monsieur, " said she, "but I know that, whenever it is wanted, it will come back again. "

Behold us now at the close of the ten years, and we have realized anindependency. The rapidity with which we attained this end had itsorigin in three reasons:-- Firstly, we worked so hard for it; secondly, we had no incumbrances to delay success; thirdly, as soon as we hadcapital to invest, two well-skilled counsellors, one in Belgium, one inEngland, viz. Vandenhuten and Hunsden, gave us each a word of adviceas to the sort of investment to be chosen. The suggestion made wasjudicious; and, being promptly acted on, the result proved gainful--Ineed not say how gainful; I communicated details to Messrs. Vandenhutenand Hunsden; nobody else can be interested in hearing them. 

Accounts being wound up, and our professional connection disposed of, weboth agreed that, as mammon was not our master, nor his service that inwhich we desired to spend our lives; as our desires were temperate, andour habits unostentatious, we had now abundance to live on--abundance toleave our boy; and should besides always have a balance on hand, which, properly managed by right sympathy and unselfish activity, mighthelp philanthropy in her enterprises, and put solace into the hand ofcharity. 

To England we now resolved to take wing; we arrived there safely;Frances realized the dream of her lifetime. We spent a whole summerand autumn in travelling from end to end of the British islands, andafterwards passed a winter in London. Then we thought it high timeto fix our residence. My heart yearned towards my native county of----shire; and it is in ----shire I now live; it is in the library of myown home I am now writing. That home lies amid a sequestered and ratherhilly region, thirty miles removed from X----; a region whose verdurethe smoke of mills has not yet sullied, whose waters still run pure, whose swells of moorland preserve in some ferny glens that lie betweenthem the very primal wildness of nature, her moss, her bracken, herblue-bells, her scents of reed and heather, her free and fresh breezes. My house is a picturesque and not too spacious dwelling, with low andlong windows, a trellised and leaf-veiled porch over the front door, just now, on this summer evening, looking like an arch of roses and ivy. The garden is chiefly laid out in lawn, formed of the sod of the hills, with herbage short and soft as moss, full of its own peculiar flowers, tiny and starlike, imbedded in the minute embroidery of their finefoliage. At the bottom of the sloping garden there is a wicket, whichopens upon a lane as green as the lawn, very long, shady, and littlefrequented; on the turf of this lane generally appear the first daisiesof spring--whence its name--Daisy Lane; serving also as a distinction tothe house. 

It terminates (the lane I mean) in a valley full of wood; whichwood--chiefly oak and beech--spreads shadowy about the vicinage of avery old mansion, one of the Elizabethan structures, much larger, aswell as more antique than Daisy Lane, the property and residence ofan individual familiar both to me and to the reader. Yes, in HunsdenWood--for so are those glades and that grey building, with many gablesand more chimneys, named--abides Yorke Hunsden, still unmarried; never, I suppose, having yet found his ideal, though I know at least a scoreof young ladies within a circuit of forty miles, who would be willing toassist him in the search. 

The estate fell to him by the death of his father, five years since; hehas given up trade, after having made by it sufficient to pay off someincumbrances by which the family heritage was burdened. I say he abideshere, but I do not think he is resident above five months out of thetwelve; he wanders from land to land, and spends some part of eachwinter in town: he frequently brings visitors with him when he comes to----shire, and these visitors are often foreigners; sometimes he hasa German metaphysician, sometimes a French savant; he had once adissatisfied and savage-looking Italian, who neither sang nor played, and of whom Frances affirmed that he had "tout l'air d'un conspirateur. "

What English guests Hunsden invites, are all either men of Birmingham orManchester--hard men, seemingly knit up in one thought, whose talk isof free trade. The foreign visitors, too, are politicians; they take awider theme--European progress--the spread of liberal sentiments overthe Continent; on their mental tablets, the names of Russia, Austria, and the Pope, are inscribed in red ink. I have heard some of them talkvigorous sense--yea, I have been present at polyglot discussions in theold, oak-lined dining-room at Hunsden Wood, where a singular insightwas given of the sentiments entertained by resolute minds respecting oldnorthern despotisms, and old southern superstitions: also, I have heardmuch twaddle, enounced chiefly in French and Deutsch, but let that pass. Hunsden himself tolerated the drivelling theorists; with the practicalmen he seemed leagued hand and heart. 

When Hunsden is staying alone at the Wood (which seldom happens) hegenerally finds his way two or three times a week to Daisy Lane. He hasa philanthropic motive for coming to smoke his cigar in our porch onsummer evenings; he says he does it to kill the earwigs amongst theroses, with which insects, but for his benevolent fumigations, heintimates we should certainly be overrun. On wet days, too, we arealmost sure to see him; according to him, it gets on time to workme into lunacy by treading on my mental corns, or to force from Mrs. Crimsworth revelations of the dragon within her, by insulting the memoryof Hofer and Tell. 

We also go frequently to Hunsden Wood, and both I and Frances relish avisit there highly. If there are other guests, their characters arean interesting study; their conversation is exciting and strange; theabsence of all local narrowness both in the host and his chosen societygives a metropolitan, almost a cosmopolitan freedom and largeness to thetalk. Hunsden himself is a polite man in his own house: he has, when hechooses to employ it, an inexhaustible power of entertaining guests; hisvery mansion too is interesting, the rooms look storied, thepassages legendary, the low-ceiled chambers, with their long rows ofdiamond-paned lattices, have an old-world, haunted air: in his travelshe has collected stores of articles of VERTU, which are well andtastefully disposed in his panelled or tapestried rooms: I have seenthere one or two pictures, and one or two pieces of statuary which manyan aristocratic connoisseur might have envied. 

When I and Frances have dined and spent an evening with Hunsden, heoften walks home with us. His wood is large, and some of the timberis old and of huge growth. There are winding ways in it which, pursuedthrough glade and brake, make the walk back to Daisy Lane a somewhatlong one. Many a time, when we have had the benefit of a full moon, and when the night has been mild and balmy, when, moreover, a certainnightingale has been singing, and a certain stream, hid in alders, haslent the song a soft accompaniment, the remote church-bell of the onehamlet in a district of ten miles, has tolled midnight ere the lord ofthe wood left us at our porch. Free-flowing was his talk at such hours, and far more quiet and gentle than in the day-time and before numbers. He would then forget politics and discussion, and would dwell on thepast times of his house, on his family history, on himself and his ownfeelings--subjects each and all invested with a peculiar zest, for theywere each and all unique. One glorious night in June, after I had beentaunting him about his ideal bride and asking him when she wouldcome and graft her foreign beauty on the old Hunsden oak, he answeredsuddenly--

"You call her ideal; but see, here is her shadow; and there cannot be ashadow without a substance. "

He had led us from the depth of the "winding way" into a glade fromwhence the beeches withdrew, leaving it open to the sky; an uncloudedmoon poured her light into this glade, and Hunsden held out under herbeam an ivory miniature. 

Frances, with eagerness, examined it first; then she gave it tome--still, however, pushing her little face close to mine, and seekingin my eyes what I thought of the portrait. I thought it represented avery handsome and very individual-looking female face, with, as he hadonce said, "straight and harmonious features. " It was dark; the hair, raven-black, swept not only from the brow, but from the temples--seemedthrust away carelessly, as if such beauty dispensed with, nay, despised arrangement. The Italian eye looked straight into you, and anindependent, determined eye it was; the mouth was as firm as fine; thechin ditto. On the back of the miniature was gilded "Lucia. "

"That is a real head, " was my conclusion. 

Hunsden smiled. 

"I think so, " he replied. "All was real in Lucia. "

"And she was somebody you would have liked to marry--but could not?"

"I should certainly have liked to marry her, and that I HAVE not done sois a proof that I COULD not. "

He repossessed himself of the miniature, now again in Frances' hand, andput it away. 

"What do YOU think of it?" he asked of my wife, as he buttoned his coatover it. 

"I am sure Lucia once wore chains and broke them, " was the strangeanswer. "I do not mean matrimonial chains, " she added, correctingherself, as if she feared mis-interpretation, "but social chains of somesort. The face is that of one who has made an effort, and a successfuland triumphant effort, to wrest some vigorous and valued faculty frominsupportable constraint; and when Lucia's faculty got free, I amcertain it spread wide pinions and carried her higher than--" shehesitated. 

"Than what?" demanded Hunsden. 

"Than 'les convenances' permitted you to follow. "

"I think you grow spiteful--impertinent. "

"Lucia has trodden the stage, " continued Frances. "You never seriouslythought of marrying her; you admired her originality, her fearlessness, her energy of body and mind; you delighted in her talent, whatever thatwas, whether song, dance, or dramatic representation; you worshipped herbeauty, which was of the sort after your own heart: but I am sure shefilled a sphere from whence you would never have thought of taking awife. "

"Ingenious, " remarked Hunsden; "whether true or not is another question. Meantime, don't you feel your little lamp of a spirit wax very pale, beside such a girandole as Lucia's?"

"Yes. "

"Candid, at least; and the Professor will soon be dissatisfied with thedim light you give?"

"Will you, monsieur?"

"My sight was always too weak to endure a blaze, Frances, " and we hadnow reached the wicket. 

I said, a few pages back, that this is a sweet summer evening; itis--there has been a series of lovely days, and this is the loveliest;the hay is just carried from my fields, its perfume still lingers in theair. Frances proposed to me, an hour or two since, to take tea outon the lawn; I see the round table, loaded with china, placed under acertain beech; Hunsden is expected--nay, I hear he is come--there is hisvoice, laying down the law on some point with authority; that of Francesreplies; she opposes him of course. They are disputing about Victor, of whom Hunsden affirms that his mother is making a milksop. Mrs. Crimsworth retaliates:--

"Better a thousand times he should be a milksop than what he, Hunsden, calls 'a fine lad;' and moreover she says that if Hunsden were to becomea fixture in the neighbourhood, and were not a mere comet, coming andgoing, no one knows how, when, where, or why, she should be quite uneasytill she had got Victor away to a school at least a hundred miles off;for that with his mutinous maxims and unpractical dogmas, he would ruina score of children. "

I have a word to say of Victor ere I shut this manuscript in mydesk--but it must be a brief one, for I hear the tinkle of silver onporcelain. 

Victor is as little of a pretty child as I am of a handsome man, or hismother of a fine woman; he is pale and spare, with large eyes, as darkas those of Frances, and as deeply set as mine. His shape is symmetricalenough, but slight; his health is good. I never saw a child smile lessthan he does, nor one who knits such a formidable brow when sitting overa book that interests him, or while listening to tales of adventure, peril, or wonder, narrated by his mother, Hunsden, or myself. Butthough still, he is not unhappy--though serious, not morose; he has asusceptibility to pleasurable sensations almost too keen, for it amountsto enthusiasm. He learned to read in the old-fashioned way out of aspelling-book at his mother's knee, and as he got on without driving bythat method, she thought it unnecessary to buy him ivory letters, or totry any of the other inducements to learning now deemed indispensable. When he could read, he became a glutton of books, and is so still. His toys have been few, and he has never wanted more. For those hepossesses, he seems to have contracted a partiality amounting toaffection; this feeling, directed towards one or two living animals ofthe house, strengthens almost to a passion. 

Mr. Hunsden gave him a mastiff cub, which he called Yorke, after thedonor; it grew to a superb dog, whose fierceness, however, was muchmodified by the companionship and caresses of its young master. He wouldgo nowhere, do nothing without Yorke; Yorke lay at his feet while helearned his lessons, played with him in the garden, walked with him inthe lane and wood, sat near his chair at meals, was fed always by hisown hand, was the first thing he sought in the morning, the last he leftat night. Yorke accompanied Mr. Hunsden one day to X----, and was bittenin the street by a dog in a rabid state. As soon as Hunsden had broughthim home, and had informed me of the circumstance, I went into the yardand shot him where he lay licking his wound: he was dead in an instant;he had not seen me level the gun; I stood behind him. I had scarcelybeen ten minutes in the house, when my ear was struck with sounds ofanguish: I repaired to the yard once more, for they proceeded thence. Victor was kneeling beside his dead mastiff, bent over it, embracing itsbull-like neck, and lost in a passion of the wildest woe: he saw me. 

"Oh, papa, I'll never forgive you! I'll never forgive you!" was hisexclamation. "You shot Yorke--I saw it from the window. I never believedyou could be so cruel--I can love you no more!"

I had much ado to explain to him, with a steady voice, the sternnecessity of the deed; he still, with that inconsolable and bitteraccent which I cannot render, but which pierced my heart, repeated--

"He might have been cured--you should have tried--you should have burntthe wound with a hot iron, or covered it with caustic. You gave no time;and now it is too late--he is dead!"

He sank fairly down on the senseless carcase; I waited patiently a longwhile, till his grief had somewhat exhausted him; and then I lifted himin my arms and carried him to his mother, sure that she would comforthim best. She had witnessed the whole scene from a window; she would notcome out for fear of increasing my difficulties by her emotion, but shewas ready now to receive him. She took him to her kind heart, and onto her gentle lap; consoled him but with her lips, her eyes, her softembrace, for some time; and then, when his sobs diminished, told himthat Yorke had felt no pain in dying, and that if he had been left toexpire naturally, his end would have been most horrible; above all, shetold him that I was not cruel (for that idea seemed to give exquisitepain to poor Victor), that it was my affection for Yorke and him whichhad made me act so, and that I was now almost heart-broken to see himweep thus bitterly. 

Victor would have been no true son of his father, had theseconsiderations, these reasons, breathed in so low, so sweet atone--married to caresses so benign, so tender--to looks so inspiredwith pitying sympathy--produced no effect on him. They did produce aneffect: he grew calmer, rested his face on her shoulder, and lay stillin her arms. Looking up, shortly, he asked his mother to tell him overagain what she had said about Yorke having suffered no pain, and my notbeing cruel; the balmy words being repeated, he again pillowed his cheekon her breast, and was again tranquil. 

Some hours after, he came to me in my library, asked if I forgave him, and desired to be reconciled. I drew the lad to my side, and there Ikept him a good while, and had much talk with him, in the course ofwhich he disclosed many points of feeling and thought I approved of in myson. I found, it is true, few elements of the "good fellow" or the "finefellow" in him; scant sparkles of the spirit which loves to flash overthe wine cup, or which kindles the passions to a destroying fire; but Isaw in the soil of his heart healthy and swelling germs of compassion, affection, fidelity. I discovered in the garden of his intellect arich growth of wholesome principles--reason, justice, moral courage, promised, if not blighted, a fertile bearing. So I bestowed on his largeforehead, and on his cheek--still pale with tears--a proud and contentedkiss, and sent him away comforted. Yet I saw him the next day laid onthe mound under which Yorke had been buried, his face covered with hishands; he was melancholy for some weeks, and more than a year elapsedbefore he would listen to any proposal of having another dog. 

Victor learns fast. He must soon go to Eton, where, I suspect, his firstyear or two will be utter wretchedness: to leave me, his mother, and hishome, will give his heart an agonized wrench; then, the fagging will notsuit him--but emulation, thirst after knowledge, the glory of success, will stir and reward him in time. Meantime, I feel in myself a strongrepugnance to fix the hour which will uproot my sole olive branch, andtransplant it far from me; and, when I speak to Frances on the subject, I am heard with a kind of patient pain, as though I alluded to somefearful operation, at which her nature shudders, but from which herfortitude will not permit her to recoil. The step must, however, betaken, and it shall be; for, though Frances will not make a milksop ofher son, she will accustom him to a style of treatment, a forbearance, a congenial tenderness, he will meet with from none else. She sees, asI also see, a something in Victor's temper--a kind of electrical ardourand power--which emits, now and then, ominous sparks; Hunsden calls ithis spirit, and says it should not be curbed. I call it the leaven ofthe offending Adam, and consider that it should be, if not WHIPPED outof him, at least soundly disciplined; and that he will be cheap ofany amount of either bodily or mental suffering which will ground himradically in the art of self-control. Frances gives this something inher son's marked character no name; but when it appears in the grindingof his teeth, in the glittering of his eye, in the fierce revolt offeeling against disappointment, mischance, sudden sorrow, or supposedinjustice, she folds him to her breast, or takes him to walk with heralone in the wood; then she reasons with him like any philosopher, andto reason Victor is ever accessible; then she looks at him with eyes oflove, and by love Victor can be infallibly subjugated; but will reasonor love be the weapons with which in future the world will meet hisviolence? Oh, no! for that flash in his black eye--for that cloud onhis bony brow--for that compression of his statuesque lips, the lad willsome day get blows instead of blandishments--kicks instead of kisses;then for the fit of mute fury which will sicken his body and maddenhis soul; then for the ordeal of merited and salutary suffering, out ofwhich he will come (I trust) a wiser and a better man. 

I see him now; he stands by Hunsden, who is seated on the lawn under thebeech; Hunsden's hand rests on the boy's collar, and he is instillingGod knows what principles into his ear. Victor looks well just now, forhe listens with a sort of smiling interest; he never looks so like hismother as when he smiles--pity the sunshine breaks out so rarely! Victorhas a preference for Hunsden, full as strong as I deem desirable, beingconsiderably more potent decided, and indiscriminating, than any I everentertained for that personage myself. Frances, too, regards it with asort of unexpressed anxiety; while her son leans on Hunsden's knee, orrests against his shoulder, she roves with restless movement round, like a dove guarding its young from a hovering hawk; she says she wishesHunsden had children of his own, for then he would better know thedanger of inciting their pride end indulging their foibles. 

Frances approaches my library window; puts aside the honeysuckle whichhalf covers it, and tells me tea is ready; seeing that I continue busyshe enters the room, comes near me quietly, and puts her hand on myshoulder. 

"Monsieur est trop applique. "

"I shall soon have done. "

She draws a chair near, and sits down to wait till I have finished; herpresence is as pleasant to my mind as the perfume of the fresh hay andspicy flowers, as the glow of the westering sun, as the repose of themidsummer eve are to my senses. 

But Hunsden comes; I hear his step, and there he is, bending through thelattice, from which he has thrust away the woodbine with unsparing hand, disturbing two bees and a butterfly. 

"Crimsworth! I say, Crimsworth! take that pen out of his hand, mistress, and make him lift up his head. 

"Well, Hunsden? I hear you--"

"I was at X---- yesterday! your brother Ned is getting richer thanCroesus by railway speculations; they call him in the Piece Hall a stagof ten; and I have heard from Brown. M. And Madame Vandenhuten and JeanBaptiste talk of coming to see you next month. He mentions the Peletstoo; he says their domestic harmony is not the finest in the world, butin business they are doing 'on ne peut mieux, ' which circumstancehe concludes will be a sufficient consolation to both for any littlecrosses in the affections. Why don't you invite the Pelets to ----shire, Crimsworth? I should so like to see your first flame, Zoraide. Mistress, don't be jealous, but he loved that lady to distraction; I know it for afact. Brown says she weighs twelve stones now; you see what you'velost, Mr. Professor. Now, Monsieur and Madame, if you don't come to tea, Victor and I will begin without you. "

"Papa, come!"