In the course of my next lesson, I made a report of the otherdevoirs, dealing out praise and blame in very small retail parcels, according to my custom, for there was no use in blaming severely, and high encomiums were rarely merited.I said nothing of Mdlle Henri’s exercise, and, spectacles on nose, I endeavoured to decipher in her countenance her sentiments at the omission.I wanted to find out whether in her existed a consciousness of her own talents.“If she thinks she did a clever thing in composing that devoir, she will now look mortified,” thought I.Grave as usual, almost sombre, was her face; as usual, her eyes were fastened on the cahier open before her; there was something, I thought, of expectation in her attitude, as I concluded a brief review of the last devoir, and when, casting it from me and rubbing my hands, I bade them take their grammars, some slight change did pass over her air and mien, as though she now relinquished a faint prospect of pleasant excitement; she had been waiting for something to be discussed in which she had a degree of interest; the discussion was not to come on, so expectation sank back, shrunk and sad, but attention, promptly filling up 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 show distress, it was because she would not.
At four o’clock, when the bell rang and the room was in immediate tumult, instead of taking my hat and starting from the estrade, I sat still a moment.I looked at Frances, she was puttingher books into her cabas; having fastened the button, she raised her head; encountering my eye, 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 both school-rooms; I repeated the sign; she approached; again she paused within half a yard of the estrade, and looked shy, and still doubtful whether she had mistaken my meaning.
“Step up,” I said, speaking with decision.It is the only way ofdealing with diffident, easily embarrassed characters, and with some slight manual aid I presently got her placed just where wanted her to be, that is, between my desk and the window, where she was screened from the rush of the second division, and where no one could sneak behind her to listen.
“Take a seat,” I said, placing a tabouret; and I made her sitdown.I knew 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 an appearance of agitation and trembling, that she cared much.I drew from my pocket the rolled-up devoir.
“This it, yours, I suppose?” said I, addressing her in English, for I now felt sure she could speak English.
“Yes,” she answered distinctly; and as I unrolled it and laid it out flat on the desk before her with my hand upon it, and a pencil in that hand, I saw her moved, and, as it were, kindled; her depression beamed as a cloud might behind which the sun is burning.
“This devoir has numerous faults,” said I.“It will take you someyears of careful study before you are in a condition to writeEnglish with absolute correctness.Attend: I will point out some principal defects.” And I went through it carefully, noting every error, and demonstrating why they were errors, and how the words or phrases ought to have been written.In the course of this sobering process she became calm.I now went 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 and fancy.Taste and fancy are not the highest gifts of the human mind, but such 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 take courage; cultivate the faculties that God and nature have bestowed on you, and do not fear in any crisis of suffering, under any pressure of injustice, to derive free and full consolation from the consciousness of their strength and rarity.”
“Strength and rarity!” I repeated to myself; “ay, the words areprobably true,” for on looking up, I saw the sun had dissevered its screening cloud, her countenance was transfigured, a smile shone in her eyes—a smile almost triumphant; it seemed to say—“I am glad you have been forced to discover so much of my nature; you need not so carefully moderate your language.Do you think I am myself a stranger to myself? What you tell me in terms so qualified, I have known fully from a child.”
She did say this as plainly as a frank and flashing glance could, but in a moment the glow of her complexion, the radiance of her aspect, had subsided; if strongly conscious of her talents, she was equally conscious of her harassing defects, and the remembrance of these obliterated for a single second, now reviving with sudden force, at once subdued the too vivid characters in which her senseof her powers had been expressed.So quick was the revulsion of feeling, I had not time to cheek her triumph by reproof; ere I could contract my brows to a frown she had become serious and almost mournful-looking.
“Thank you, sir,” said she, rising.There was gratitude both in her voice 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 congregated within a yard or two of my desk, and stood staring with eyes and mouths wide open; the three ma?tresses 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.
