Charlotte’s rosy lips formed themselves into an unmistakable and rather contemptuous expression of dissent, and Gueda breathed more freely. German was not her own strong point, and she disliked the idea of the new-comer’s criticism on her shortcomings.
Herr Märklestatter’s smiling face greeted the girls as they entered the room.
“Good day, young ladies,” he said. “A pleasant morning’s work is before us, I trust,” for he was always particularly sanguine, poor man, after the rest of Sunday. “Ah?” in a tone of courteous inquiry, as the seven maidens were followed by Miss Lloyd escorting the stranger. “A new pupil? I make you welcome, miss,” he went on in his queer English,—hopelessly queer it was, notwithstanding his many years’ residence in England, and his marvellous proficiency in continental languages,—as his eyes rested with pleasure on the sweet flushed face. “You speak German?” he added in that language.
“Miss Meredon will be present at this lesson, Herr Märklestatter,” Miss Lloyd hastened to explain, “in order that she may see what work the advanced pupils are doing, and that you may judge which class she should join.”
“Exactly so,” the German master replied. “Now, young ladies, what have you to show me?”
The exercise-books were handed to him, certain tasks corrected and criticised at once, others put aside for the professor to look over at his leisure. Things seemed to be going pretty well, nothing worse than some half-muttered ejaculations, and raising of Herr Märklestatter’s eyebrows, testifying to the mistakes he came across. Then followed the pupils reading aloud, translating as they went. They were all far enough advanced to read fairly, but Charlotte Waldron read the best. To-day, however, a rather unusually difficult passage fell to her turn; she made more than one slight mistake, and hesitated in the translation of a phrase.
“Come, come,” said the professor, glancing round, as was his habit, till his eyes fell on a look of intelligence, “who can translate that? Miss Knox, Miss Lathom, eh, what, you know it, miss?”
For to his surprise, the young stranger, flushing still more rosily, but with a bright glance of satisfaction, looked up with lips parted, evidently eager to speak. “Yes?” said he. “Say what you think it is.”
Miss Meredon translated it correctly, and in well-chosen words, without the slightest hesitation. Herr Märklestatter listened carefully.
“Good! very good!” he said. “Continue then. Read the following paragraph. Aloud—in German first, then translate it.”