I HAD indeed had a very long talk with the crafty littlepolitician, and on regaining my quarters, I found that dinner washalf over. To be late at meals was against a standing rule ofthe establishment, and had it been one of the Flemish ushers whothus entered after the removal of the soup and the commencementof the first course, M. Pelet would probably have greeted himwith a public rebuke, and would certainly have mulcted him bothof soup and fish; as it was, that polite though partial gentlemanonly shook his head, and as I took my place, unrolled my napkin,and said my heretical grace to myself, he civilly despatched aservant to the kitchen, to bring me a plate of "puree auxcarottes" (for this was a maigre-day), and before sending awaythe first course, reserved for me a portion of the stock-fish ofwhich it consisted. Dinner being over, the boys rushed out fortheir evening play; Kint and Vandam (the two ushers) of coursefollowed them. Poor fellows! if they had not looked so veryheavy, so very soulless, so very indifferent to all things inheaven above or in the earth beneath, I could have pitied themgreatly for the obligation they were under to trail after thoserough lads everywhere and at all times; even as it was, I feltdisposed to scout myself as a privileged prig when I turned toascend to my chamber, sure to find there, if not enjoyment, atleast liberty; but this evening (as had often happened before) Iwas to be still farther distinguished.

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

"I beg pardon, monsieur," said I, as I followed him to hisprivate sitting-room, "for having returned so late--it was notmy fault."

"That is just what I want to know," rejoined M. Pelet, as heushered me into the comfortable parlour with a good wood-fire--for the stove had now been removed for the season. Having rungthe bell he ordered "Coffee for two," and presently he and Iwere seated, almost in English comfort, one on each side of thehearth, a little round table between us, with a coffee-pot, asugar-basin, and two large white china cups. While M. Peletemployed himself in choosing a cigar from a box, my thoughtsreverted to the two outcast ushers, whose voices I could heareven now crying hoarsely for order in the playground.

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

"Plait-il?" dit M. Pelet.

I remarked that I thought Messieurs Vandam and Kint mustsometimes be a little fatigued with their labours.

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

"Servez-vous mon garcon," said he blandly, when I had put acouple of huge lumps of continental sugar into his cup. "And nowtell me why you stayed so long at Mdlle. Reuter's. I know thatlessons conclude, in her establishment as in mine, at fouro'clock, and when you returned it was past 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 theschoolroom, 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, wasthere, of course?"

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

"C'est joli--cela," observed M. Pelet, and he smiled and lookedinto the fire.

"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 outwhat was mademoiselle's reason for making me sit before her sofaone mortal hour, listening to the most copious and fluentdissertation on the merest frivolities."

"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,will at last reach a fathomless spring of sensibility in thybreast, 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 est encore jeune, plus agee que toi peut-etre, mais justeasset pour unir la tendresse d'une petite maman a l'amour d'uneepouse devouee; n'est-ce pas que cela t'irait superieurement?"

"No, monsieur; I should like my wife to be my wife, and not halfmy mother."

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

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

"In what does she not suit you, William? She is personallyagreeable, is she not?"

"Very; her hair and complexion are just what I admire; and herturn of form, 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 is character about her mouth--firmness--but she has a verypleasant smile; don't you think so?"

"Rather crafty."

"True, but that expression of craft is owing to her eyebrows;have you remarked 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 someknitting, or some other woman's work in hand, and sits the imageof peace, calmly intent on her needles and her silk, somediscussion meantime going on around her, in the course of whichpeculiarities of character are being developed, or importantinterests canvassed; she takes no part in it; her humble,feminine mind is wholly with her knitting; none of her featuresmove; she neither presumes to smile approval, nor frowndisapprobation; her little hands assiduously ply theirunpretending task; if she can only get this purse finished, orthis bonnet-grec completed, it is enough for her. If gentlemenapproach her chair, a deeper quiescence, a meeker modesty settleson her features, and clothes her general mien; observe then hereyebrows, et dites-moi s'il n'y a pas du chat dans l'un et durenard 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 out from under the screen, will take its brief, sly,searching survey, and retreat again."

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

"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 oneis better aware than herself of the sort of impression she iscapable of producing; no one likes better to captivate in a quietway. I am mistaken if she will not yet leave the print of herstealing steps on thy heart, Crimsworth."

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

"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 reservewith me."

"That to begin with; let respect be the foundation, affection thefirst floor, love the superstructure; Mdlle. Reuter is a skilfularchitect."

"And interest, M. Pelet--interest. Will not mademoiselleconsider that point ?"

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

"Studies of character? Yes; curious ones, at least, I imagine;but one cannot divine much from a first interview."

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

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

"I don't believe you."

"It is true, notwithstanding. At first I thought them angels,but they did not leave me long under that delusion; three of theeldest and handsomest undertook the task of setting me right, andthey managed so cleverly that in five minutes I knew them, atleast, for what they were--three arrant coquettes."

"Je les connais!" exclaimed M. Pelet. "Elles sont toujours aupremier rang a l'eglise et a la promenade; une blonde superbe,une jolie espiegle, une belle brune."

"Exactly."

"Lovely creatures all of them--heads for artists; what a groupthey would make, taken together! Eulalie (I know their names),with her smooth braided hair and calm ivory brow. Hortense, withher rich chesnut locks so luxuriantly knotted, plaited, twisted,as if she did not know how to dispose of all their abundance,with her vermilion lips, damask cheek, and roguish laughing eye.And Caroline de Blemont! Ah, there is beauty! beauty inperfection. What a cloud of sable curls about the face of ahouri! What fascinating lips! What glorious black eyes! YourByron would have worshipped her, and you--you cold, frigidislander!--you played the austere, the insensible in the presenceof an Aphrodite so exquisite?"

I might have laughed at the director's enthusiasm had I believedit real, but there was something in his tone which indicatedgot-up raptures. I felt he was only affecting fervour in orderto put me off my guard, to induce me to come out in return, so Iscarcely even smiled. He went on:-

"Confess, William, do not the mere good looks of Zoraide Reuterappear dowdyish and commonplace compared with the splendid charmsof some of her pupils?"

The question discomposed me, but I now felt plainly that myprincipal was endeavouring (for reasons best known to himself--atthat time I could not fathom them) to excite ideas and wishes inmy mind alien to what was right and honourable. The iniquity ofthe instigation proved its antidote, and when he further added:--

"Each of those three beautiful girls will have a handsomefortune; and with a little address, a gentlemanlike, intelligentyoung fellow like you might make himself master of the hand,heart, and purse of any one of the trio."

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

He laughed a forced laugh, affirmed that he had only been joking,and demanded whether I could possibly have thought him inearnest. Just then the bell rang; the play-hour was over; it wasan evening on which M. Pelet was accustomed to read passages fromthe drama and the belles lettres to his pupils. He did not waitfor my answer, but rising, left the room, humming as he went somegay strain of Beranger's.