“It wouldn’t have been so bad if we had not just been studying George Eliot. The way she rattled it off, that Adam Bede was an English monk and was called the venerable Bede!”
“But you ought to hear her recite in French or Latin, Cathalina. She doesn’t think it needs to make sense and takes any meaning that she can find in the dictionary for the words and strings them together. We just nearly die when she recites. You can imagine what a fit Dr. Carver takes over her Latin recitations, and the French teacher has all she can do to keep her face straight sometimes.”
“Who is the French teacher?—there are several of the teachers on the platform at Chapel that I don’t know yet.”
“Madame Dumont. She is wonderful, a perfect dear! The girls work their heads off for her. She’s a native, you know, and goes over home every summer. But she’s terribly worried since the war started in August, you know. She had a son and other people in it, of course. You must meet her. She’d only be too delighted since you can talk with her.”
“It would be wonderful for me, only I’m afraid of making mistakes. But what did you mean by ‘simps’?”
“Can’t you guess?”
“Simpletons?”
“Yes. She and that queer girl that she is always with were rather snippy to Diane and me and called us the ‘Imps,’ so we sometimes call them the ‘S’Imps,’ with our crowd, of course.”
“Victoria is quite pretty,” said Cathalina.
“Yes; she looks just like one of those yellow-haired dolls that I used to have. Pearl is rather stunning, with those big black eyes. But the way they both dress! And it would be worse if Miss Randolph did not tell us all occasionally what to wear. The first time they came down to dinner last year, Pearl had on a blue silk evening dress with a train, and Victoria wore a fussy lace and chiffon dress with satin slippers to match.”