. She was a docile pupil, thoughtful
and attentive, though not peculiarly quick, and Mr. Fairchild, in spite
of his rather nervously irritable temper, was an earnest and intelligent
teacher. The sums were fairly correct and the multiplication table was
repeated faultlessly. But when it came to the history Celestina was less
ready and accurate in her replies.

'My dear,' said her mother, who had sat down beside them with her sewing
by this time, 'you are not giving your full attention. I can see you are
thinking of something else. If it is anything you do not understand ask
father to explain it.'

'Certainly,' Mr. Fairchild agreed. 'There is nothing worse than giving
half attention. What are you thinking about, child?'

Celestina looked up timidly.

'It wasn't anything in the lesson--at least not exactly,' she said. 'But
when father asked me who was the king of France then, it made me think
of what father said about a French ma'amselle, and I wondered what it
meant.'

'Ma'amselle,' said her father, 'is only our English way of saying
"mademoiselle," which means a miss, a young lady.'

'But those young ladies, the Rectory young ladies, aren't French,'
Celestina said.

'Of course not. What I meant was that very likely they have a French
governess. It's the mode nowadays when every one wants to speak French
well.'

'Oh,' said Celestina, 'I didn't understand. I'd like to hear somebody
speak French,' she added. 'Did you ever hear it, mother?'

'Yes,' Mrs. Fairchild replied. 'When I was a girl there was a French
lady came to live near us that I was very fond of; and she was very kind
to us. She sent me a beautiful present when I married. I called you
after her, you know, Celestina--I'm sure I've told you that before. Her
name was Celestine.'

'I remember,' the little girl replied; 'but I forgot about her being
French. I would like to see her, mother.'

'I do not know if she is still alive,' said Mrs. Fairchild. 'She must be
an old lady by now, if so. She went back to France many years ago; she
was in England with her husband, who had some business here. They had no
children, and she was always asking mother to let her adopt me. But
though there were so many of us, mother couldn't make up her mind to
spare one.'

'Things would have turned out pretty different for you, Mary, if she
had. You'd have been married to a French "mounseer" by now,' and he
laughed a little, as if there was something exceedingly funny in t