“Truly! And now, mademoiselle, it will be a good exercise for you to explain 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 after we came to Brussels, because I knew it was a métier, a trade which was easily learnt, and by which I could earn some money very soon. I learnt it in a few days, and I quickly got work, for all the Brussels ladies have old lace—very precious—which must be mended all the times it is washed. I earned money a little, and this money I gave for lessons in 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 will be difficult, because those who know I have been a lace-mender will despise 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 might suppose 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, ma bonne 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 to move to her superior, though the endeavour was almost a failure, for her head seemed as if it would not bend, and thus departed.