ring nostril, his
thorough glance, and hurried bearing. Irritable he was; one heard that,
as he apostrophized with vehemence the awkward squad under his orders.
Sometimes he would break out on these raw amateur actresses with a
passion of impatience at their falseness of conception, their coldness
of emotion, their feebleness of delivery. "Ecoutez!" he would cry; and
then his voice rang through the premises like a trumpet; and when,
mimicking it, came the small pipe of a Ginevra, a Mathilde, or a
Blanche, one understood why a hollow groan of scorn, or a fierce hiss
of rage, rewarded the tame echo.

"Vous n'etes donc que des poupees," I heard him thunder. "Vous n'avez
pas de passions--vous autres. Vous ne sentez donc rien? Votre chair est
de neige, votre sang de glace! Moi, je veux que tout cela s'allume,
qu'il ait une vie, une ame!"

Vain resolve! And when he at last found it _was_ vain, he suddenly
broke the whole business down. Hitherto he had been teaching them a
grand tragedy; he tore the tragedy in morsels, and came next day with a
compact little comic trifle. To this they took more kindly; he
presently knocked it all into their smooth round pates.

Mademoiselle St. Pierre always presided at M. Emanuel's lessons, and I
was told that the polish of her manner, her seeming attention, her tact
and grace, impressed that gentleman very favourably. She had, indeed,
the art of pleasing, for a given time, whom she would; but the feeling
would not last: in an hour it was dried like dew, vanished like
gossamer.

The day preceding Madame's fete was as much a holiday as the fete
itself. It was devoted to clearing out, cleaning, arranging and
decorating the three schoolrooms. All within-doors was the gayest
bustle; neither up-stairs nor down could a quiet, isolated person find
rest for the sole of her foot; accordingly, for my part, I took refuge
in the garden. The whole day did I wander or sit there alone, finding
warmth in the sun, shelter among the trees, and a sort of companionship
in my own thoughts. I well remember that I exchanged but two sentences
that day with any living being: not that I felt solitary; I was glad to
be quiet. For a looker-on, it sufficed to pass through the rooms once
or twice, observe what changes were being wrought, how a green-room and
a dressing-room were being contrived, a little stage with scenery
erected, how M. Paul Emanuel, in conjunction with Mademoiselle St.
Pierre, was directing all, a