er dinner; but this inestimable
privilege was always marred by the fact that Madame invariably came for
us before the quarter of an hour had expired. No other part of school
discipline annoyed us as this did. It had that element of injustice
against which children always rebel. Why she did so remains to this day
a puzzle to me. She worked very hard for her living--a fact which did
not occur to us in those days to modify our view of her as our natural
tormentor. In breaking faith with us daily by curtailing our allotted
fifteen minutes of recreation, she deprived herself of rest to the exact
amount by which she defrauded us.

She cannot have pined to begin to teach as soon as she had swallowed her
food! I may do her an injustice, but the only reason I can think of as a
likely one is that, by taking us unawares, she (I won't say hoped, but)
expected to find us "in mischief."

It was a weak point of the arrangements of Bush House that Miss Mulberry
left us so much to the care of Madame. Madame was twice as energetic as
Miss Mulberry. Madame never spared herself if she never spared us.
Madame was indefatigable, and in her own way as conscientious as Miss
Mulberry herself. But Madame was not just, and she was not truthful. She
had--either no sense at all, or--a quite different sense from ours of
honour and uprightness. Perhaps the latter, for she seemed to break
promises, tell lies, open letters, pry into drawers and boxes, and
listen at keyholes from the highest sense of duty. And, which was even
worse for us, she had no belief whatever in the trustworthiness of her
pupils.

Miss Mulberry felt it to be her duty towards our parents and guardians
to keep us under constant supervision; but Madame watched and worried
us, I am convinced, in the persuasion that we were certain to get into
mischief if we had the chance, and equally certain to do so deceitfully.
She gave us full credit (I never could trace that she saw any discredit
in deceit) for slyness in evading her authority, but flattered herself
that her own superior slyness would maintain it in spite of us.

It vexed us all, but there were times when it irritated Eleanor almost
to frenzy. She would have been in disgrace oftener and more seriously on
the subject, but that Madame was a little afraid of her, and was, I
think, not a little fond of her.

Madame was a clever woman, and a good teacher. She was sharp-witted,
ready of tongue, and indefatigably industrious herse