er--though we made together an awful clamor (anything like
madame's gift of utterance I had not hitherto heard or imagined)--we
achieved little progress. She rang, ere long, for aid; which arrived in
the shape of a "maitresse," who had been partly educated in an Irish
convent, and was esteemed a perfect adept in the English language. A
bluff little personage this maitresse was--Labasse-courienne from top to
toe: and how she did slaughter the speech of Albion! However, I told her
a plain tale, which she translated. I told her how I had left my own
country, intent on extending my knowledge and gaining my bread; how I
was ready to turn my hand to any useful thing, provided it was not wrong
or degrading: how I would be a child's nurse or a lady's-maid, and would
not refuse even housework adapted to my strength. Madame heard this; and
questioning her countenance, I almost thought the tale won her ear.

"Il n'y a que les Anglaises pour ces sortes d'entreprises," said she:
"sont-elles done intrepides, ces femmes-la!"

She asked my name, my age; she sat and looked at me--not pityingly, not
with interest: never a gleam of sympathy or a shade of compassion
crossed her countenance during the interview. I felt she was not one to
be led an inch by her feelings: grave and considerate, she gazed,
consulting her judgment and studying my narrative....

In the dead of night I suddenly awoke. All was hushed, but a white
figure stood in the room--Madame in her night-dress. Moving without
perceptible sound, she visited the three children in the three beds; she
approached me; I feigned sleep, and she studied me long. A small
pantomime ensued, curious enough. I dare say she sat a quarter of an
hour on the edge of my bed, gazing at my face. She then drew nearer,
bent close over me; slightly raised my cap, and turned back the border
so as to expose my hair; she looked at my hand lying on the bed-clothes.
This done, she turned to the chair where my clothes lay; it was at the
foot of the bed. Hearing her touch and lift them, I opened my eyes with
precaution, for I own I felt curious to see how far her taste for
research would lead her. It led her a good way: every article did she
inspect. I divined her motive for this proceeding; viz., the wish to
form from the garments a judgment respecting the wearer, her station,
means, neatness, etc. The end was not bad, but the means were hardly
fair or justifiable. In my dress was a pocket; she fairly turn