rect carriage, flexible
figures, white and taper hands, features more irregular, but also more
intellectual than those of the Belgians, grave and modest countenances,
a general air of native propriety and decency; by this last circumstance
alone I could at a glance distinguish the daughter of Albion and
nursling of Protestantism from the foster-child of Rome, the PROTEGEE
of Jesuistry: proud, too, was the aspect of these British girls; at once
envied and ridiculed by their continental associates, they warded off
insult with austere civility, and met hate with mute disdain; they
eschewed company-keeping, and in the midst of numbers seemed to dwell
isolated.

The teachers presiding over this mixed multitude were three in number,
all French--their names Mdlles. Zephyrine, Pelagie, and Suzette; the two
last were commonplace personages enough; their look was ordinary,
their manner was ordinary, their temper was ordinary, their thoughts,
feelings, and views were all ordinary--were I to write a chapter on the
subject I could not elucidate it further. Zephyrine was somewhat more
distinguished in appearance and deportment than Pelagie and Suzette,
but in character genuine Parisian coquette, perfidious, mercenary, and
dry-hearted. A fourth maitresse I sometimes saw who seemed to come daily
to teach needlework, or netting, or lace-mending, or some such flimsy
art; but of her I never had more than a passing glimpse, as she sat in
the CARRE, with her frames and some dozen of the elder pupils about her,
consequently I had no opportunity of studying her character, or even of
observing her person much; the latter, I remarked, had a very English
air for a maitresse, otherwise it was not striking; of character I
should think; she possessed but little, as her pupils seemed constantly
"en revolte" against her authority. She did not reside in the house; her
name, I think, was Mdlle. Henri.

Amidst this assemblage of all that was insignificant and defective, much
that was vicious and repulsive (by that last epithet many would have
described the two or three stiff, silent, decently behaved, ill-dressed
British girls), the sensible, sagacious, affable directress shone like a
steady star over a marsh full of Jack-o'-lanthorns; profoundly aware
of her superiority, she derived an inward bliss from that consciousness
which sustained her under all the care and responsibility inseparable
from her position; it kept her temper calm, her brow smooth,