She became very grave, and said, "Yes, Monsieur, it is too bad; because when I am punished myself, Ihave no more authority over the little girls."I did not at once fully understand the nature of this unpleasantness;but Jeanne explained to me that, as she was charged by Mademoiselle Prefere with the duties of taking care of the youngest class, of washing and dressing the children, of teaching them how to behave, how to sew, how to say the alphabet, of showing them how to play, and, finally, of putting them to bed at the close of the day, she could not make herself obeyed by those turbulent little folks on the days she was condemned to wear a night-cap in the class-room, or to eat her meals standing up, from a plate turned upside down.
Having secretly admired the punishments devised by the Lady of the Enchanted Pelerine, I responded:
"Then, if I understand you rightly, Jeanne, you are at once a pupil here and a mistress? It is a condition of existence very common in the world.You are punished, and you punish?""Oh, Monsieur!" she exclaimed."No! I never punish!""Then, I suspect," said I, "that your indulgence gets you many scoldings from Mademoiselle Prefere?"She smiled, and blinked.
Then I said to her that the troubles in which we often involve ourselves, by trying to act according to our conscience and to do the best we can, are never of the sort that totally dishearten and weary us, but are, on the contrary, wholesome trials.This sort of philosophy touched her very little.She even appeared totally unmoved by my moral exhortations.But was not this quite natural on her part?--and ought I not to have remembered that it is only those no longer innocent who can find pleasure in the systems of moralists?...I had at least good sense enough to cut short my sermonising.
"Jeanne," I said, "you were asking a moment ago about Madame de Gabry.Let us talk about that Fairy of yours She was very prettily made.Do you do any modelling in wax now?""I have not a bit of wax," she exclaimed, wringing her hands--"no wax at all!""No wax!" I cried--"in a republic of busy bees?"She laughed.
"And, then, you see, Monsieur, my FIGURINES, as you call them, are not in Mademoiselle Prefere's programme.But I had begun to make a very small Saint-George for Madame de Gabry--a tiny little Saint-George, with a golden cuirass.Is not that right, Monsieur Bonnard--to give Saint-George a gold cuirass?""Quite right, Jeanne; but what became of it?""I am going to tell you, I kept it in my pocket because I had no other place to put it, and--and I sat down on it by mistake."She drew out of her pocket a little wax figure, which had been squeezed out of all resemblance to human form, and of which the dislocated limbs were only attached to the body by their wire framework.At the sight of her hero thus marred, she was seized at once with compassion and gaiety.The latter feeling obtained the mastery, and she burst into a clear laugh, which, however, stopped as suddenly as it had begun.
Mademoiselle Prefere stood at the parlour door, smiling.
"That dear child!" sighed the schoolmistress in her tenderest tone.
"I am afraid she will tire you.And, then, your time is so precious!"I begged Mademoiselle Prefere to dismiss that illusion, and, rising to take my leave, I took from my pocket some chocolate-cakes and sweets which I had brought with me.
"That is so nice!" said Jeanne; "there will be enough to go round the whole school."The lady of the pelerine intervened.
"Mademoiselle Alexandre," she said, "thank Monsieur for his generosity."Jeanne looked at her for an instant in a sullen way; then, turning to me, said with remarkable firmness, "Monsieur, I thank you for your kindness in coming to see me.""Jeanne," I said, pressing both her hands, "remain always a good, truthful, brave girl.Good-bye."As she left the room with her packages of chocolate and confectionery, she happened to strike the handles of her skipping-rope against the back of a chair.Mademoiselle Prefere, full of indignation, pressed both hands over her heart, under her pelerine;and I almost expected to see her give up her scholastic ghost.
When we found ourselves alone, she recovered her composure; and Imust say, without considering myself thereby flattered, that she smiled upon me with one whole side of her face.
"Mademoiselle," I said, taking advantage of her good humour, "Inoticed that Jeanne Alexandre looks a little pale.You know better than I how much consideration and care a young girl requires at her age.It would only be doing you an injustice by implication to recommend her still more earnestly to your vigilance."These words seemed to ravish her with delight.She lifted her eyes, as in ecstasy, to the paper spirals of the ceiling, and, clasping her hands exclaimed, "How well these eminent men know the art of considering the most trifling details!"I called her attention to the fact that the health of a young girl was not a trifling detail, and made my farewell bow.But she stopped me on the threshold to say to me, very confidentially, "You must excuse me, Monsieur.I am a woman, and I love gloy.Icannot conceal from you the fact that I feel myself greatly honoured by the presence of a Member of the Institute in my humble institution."I duly excused the weakness of Mademoiselle Prefere; and, thinking only of Jeanne, with the blindness of egotism, kept asking myself all along the road, "What are we going to do with this child?"June 3.
