Authors: Charlotte Brontë
"Monsieur Creemsvort, n'est ce pas?" said a voice behind me; and,
starting involuntarily, I turned. I had been so taken up with
the contemplation of the pretty little salon that I had not
noticed the entrance of a person into the larger room. It was,
however, Mdlle. Reuter who now addressed me, and stood close
beside me; and when I had bowed with instantaneously recovered
sang-froid—for I am not easily embarrassed—I commenced the
conversation by remarking on the pleasant aspect of her little
cabinet, and the advantage she had over M. Pelet in possessing a
garden.
"Yes," she said, "she often thought so;" and added, "it is my
garden, monsieur, which makes me retain this house, otherwise I
should probably have removed to larger and more commodious
premises long since; but you see I could not take my garden with
me, and I should scarcely find one so large and pleasant anywhere
else in town."
I approved her judgment.
"But you have not seen it yet," said she, rising; "come to the
window and take a better view." I followed her; she opened the
sash, and leaning out I saw in full the enclosed demesne which
had hitherto been to me an unknown region. It was a long, not
very broad strip of cultured ground, with an alley bordered by
enormous old fruit trees down the middle; there was a sort of
lawn, a parterre of rose-trees, some flower-borders, and, on the
far side, a thickly planted copse of lilacs, laburnums, and
acacias. It looked pleasant, to me—very pleasant, so long a
time had elapsed since I had seen a garden of any sort. But it
was not only on Mdlle. Reuter's garden that my eyes dwelt; when
I had taken a view of her well-trimmed beds and budding
shrubberies, I allowed my glance to come back to herself, nor did
I hastily withdraw it.
I had thought to see a tall, meagre, yellow, conventual image in
black, with a close white cap, bandaged under the chin like a
nun's head-gear; whereas, there stood by me a little and roundly
formed woman, who might indeed be older than I, but was still
young; she could not, I thought, be more than six or seven and
twenty; she was as fair as a fair Englishwoman; she had no cap;
her hair was nut-brown, and she wore it in curls; pretty her
features were not, nor very soft, nor very regular, but neither
were they in any degree plain, and I already saw cause to deem
them expressive. What was their predominant cast? Was it
sagacity?—sense? Yes, I thought so; but I could scarcely as yet
be sure. I discovered, however, that there was a certain
serenity of eye, and freshness of complexion, most pleasing to
behold. The colour on her cheek was like the bloom on a good
apple, which is as sound at the core as it is red on the rind.
Mdlle. Reuter and I entered upon business. She said she was not
absolutely certain of the wisdom of the step she was about to
take, because I was so young, and parents might possibly object
to a professor like me for their daughters: "But it is often
well to act on one's own judgment," said she, "and to lead
parents, rather than be led by them. The fitness of a professor
is not a matter of age; and, from what I have heard, and from
what I observe myself, I would much rather trust you than M.
Ledru, the music-master, who is a married man of near fifty."
I remarked that I hoped she would find me worthy of her good
opinion; that if I knew myself, I was incapable of betraying any
confidence reposed in me. "Du reste," said she, "the
surveillance will be strictly attended to." And then she
proceeded to discuss the subject of terms. She was very cautious,
quite on her guard; she did not absolutely bargain, but she
warily sounded me to find out what my expectations might be; and
when she could not get me to name a sum, she reasoned and
reasoned with a fluent yet quiet circumlocution of speech, and at
last nailed me down to five hundred francs per annum—not too
much, but I agreed. Before the negotiation was completed, it
began to grow a little dusk. I did not hasten it, for I liked
well enough to sit and hear her talk; I was amused with the sort
of business talent she displayed. Edward could not have shown
himself more practical, though he might have evinced more
coarseness and urgency; and then she had so many reasons, so many
explanations; and, after all, she succeeded in proving herself
quite disinterested and even liberal. At last she concluded, she
could say no more, because, as I acquiesced in all things, there
was no further ground for the exercise of her parts of speech. I
was obliged to rise. I would rather have sat a little longer;
what had I to return to but my small empty room? And my eyes had
a pleasure in looking at Mdlle. Reuter, especially now, when the
twilight softened her features a little, and, in the doubtful
dusk, I could fancy her forehead as open as it was really
elevated, her mouth touched with turns of sweetness as well as
defined in lines of sense. When I rose to go, I held out my hand,
on purpose, though I knew it was contrary to the etiquette of
foreign habits; she smiled, and said—
"Ah! c'est comme tous les Anglais," but gave me her hand very
kindly.
"It is the privilege of my country, Mademoiselle," said I; "and,
remember, I shall always claim it."
She laughed a little, quite good-naturedly, and with the sort of
tranquillity obvious in all she did—a tranquillity which soothed
and suited me singularly, at least I thought so that evening.
Brussels seemed a very pleasant place to me when I got out again
into the street, and it appeared as if some cheerful, eventful,
upward-tending career were even then opening to me, on that
selfsame mild, still April night. So impressionable a being is
man, or at least such a man as I was in those days.
NEXT day the morning hours seemed to pass very slowly at M.
Pelet's; I wanted the afternoon to come that I might go again to
the neighbouring pensionnat and give my first lesson within its
pleasant precincts; for pleasant they appeared to me. At noon
the hour of recreation arrived; at one o'clock we had lunch; this
got on the time, and at last St. Gudule's deep bell, tolling
slowly two, marked the moment for which I had been waiting.
At the foot of the narrow back-stairs that descended from my
room, I met M. Pelet.
"Comme vous avez l'air rayonnant!" said he. "Je ne vous ai
jamais vu aussi gai. Que s'est-il donc passe?"
"Apparemment que j'aime les changements," replied I.
"Ah! je comprends—c'est cela-soyez sage seulement. Vous etes
bien jeune—trop jeune pour le role que vous allez jouer; il faut
prendre garde—savez-vous?"
"Mais quel danger y a-t-il?"
"Je n'en sais rien—ne vous laissez pas aller a de vives
impressions—voila tout."
I laughed: a sentiment of exquisite pleasure played over my
nerves at the thought that "vives impressions" were likely to be
created; it was the deadness, the sameness of life's daily
ongoings that had hitherto been my bane; my blouse-clad "eleves"
in the boys' seminary never stirred in me any "vives impressions"
except it might be occasionally some of anger. I broke from M.
Pelet, and as I strode down the passage he followed me with one
of his laughs—a very French, rakish, mocking sound.
Again I stood at the neighbouring door, and soon was re-admitted
into the cheerful passage with its clear dove-colour imitation
marble walls. I followed the portress, and descending a step,
and making a turn, I found myself in a sort of corridor; a
side-door opened, Mdlle. Reuter's little figure, as graceful as
it was plump, appeared. I could now see her dress in full
daylight; a neat, simple mousseline-laine gown fitted her compact
round shape to perfection—delicate little collar and manchettes
of lace, trim Parisian brodequins showed her neck, wrists, and
feet, to complete advantage; but how grave was her face as she
came suddenly upon me! Solicitude and business were in her eye
—on her forehead; she looked almost stern. Her "Bon jour,
monsieur," was quite polite, but so orderly, so commonplace, it
spread directly a cool, damp towel over my "vives impressions."
The servant turned back when her mistress appeared, and I walked
slowly along the corridor, side by side with Mdlle. Reuter.
"Monsieur will give a lesson in the first class to-day," said
she; "dictation or reading will perhaps be the best thing to
begin with, for those are the easiest forms of communicating
instruction in a foreign language; and, at the first, a master
naturally feels a little unsettled."
She was quite right, as I had found from experience; it only
remained for me to acquiesce. We proceeded now in silence. The
corridor terminated in a hall, large, lofty, and square; a glass
door on one side showed within a long narrow refectory, with
tables, an armoire, and two lamps; it was empty; large glass
doors, in front, opened on the playground and garden; a broad
staircase ascended spirally on the opposite side; the remaining
wall showed a pair of great folding-doors, now closed, and
admitting: doubtless, to the classes.
Mdlle. Reuter turned her eye laterally on me, to ascertain,
probably, whether I was collected enough to be ushered into her
sanctum sanctorum. I suppose she judged me to be in a tolerable
state of self-government, for she opened the door, and I followed
her through. A rustling sound of uprising greeted our entrance;
without looking to the right or left, I walked straight up the
lane between two sets of benches and desks, and took possession
of the empty chair and isolated desk raised on an estrade, of one
step high, so as to command one division; the other division
being under the surveillance of a maitresse similarly elevated.
At the back of the estrade, and attached to a moveable partition
dividing this schoolroom from another beyond, was a large tableau
of wood painted black and varnished; a thick crayon of white
chalk lay on my desk for the convenience of elucidating any
grammatical or verbal obscurity which might occur in my lessons
by writing it upon the tableau; a wet sponge appeared beside the
chalk, to enable me to efface the marks when they had served the
purpose intended.
I carefully and deliberately made these observations before
allowing myself to take one glance at the benches before me;
having handled the crayon, looked back at the tableau, fingered
the sponge in order to ascertain that it was in a right state of
moisture, I found myself cool enough to admit of looking calmly
up and gazing deliberately round me.
And first I observed that Mdlle. Reuter had already glided away,
she was nowhere visible; a maitresse or teacher, the one who
occupied the corresponding estrade to my own, alone remained to
keep guard over me; she was a little in the shade, and, with my
short sight, I could only see that she was of a thin bony figure
and rather tallowy complexion, and that her attitude, as she sat,
partook equally of listlessness and affectation. More obvious,
more prominent, shone on by the full light of the large window,
were the occupants of the benches just before me, of whom some
were girls of fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, some young women from
eighteen (as it appeared to me) up to twenty; the most modest
attire, the simplest fashion of wearing the hair, were apparent
in all; and good features, ruddy, blooming complexions, large and
brilliant eyes, forms full, even to solidity, seemed to abound.
I did not bear the first view like a stoic; I was dazzled, my
eyes fell, and in a voice somewhat too low I murmured—
"Prenez vos cahiers de dictee, mesdemoiselles."
Not so had I bid the boys at Pelet's take their reading-books. A
rustle followed, and an opening of desks; behind the lifted lids
which momentarily screened the heads bent down to search for
exercise-books, I heard tittering and whispers.
"Eulalie, je suis prete a pamer de rire," observed one.
"Comme il a rougi en parlant!"
"Oui, c'est un veritable blanc-bec."
"Tais-toi, Hortense—il nous ecoute."
And now the lids sank and the heads reappeared; I had marked
three, the whisperers, and I did not scruple to take a very
steady look at them as they emerged from their temporary eclipse.
It is astonishing what ease and courage their little phrases of
flippancy had given me; the idea by which I had been awed was
that the youthful beings before me, with their dark nun-like
robes and softly braided hair, were a kind of half-angels. The
light titter, the giddy whisper, had already in some measure
relieved my mind of that fond and oppressive fancy.
The three I allude to were just in front, within half a yard of
my estrade, and were among the most womanly-looking present.
Their names I knew afterwards, and may as well mention now; they
were Eulalie, Hortense, Caroline. Eulalie was tall, and very
finely shaped: she was fair, and her features were those of a
Low Country Madonna; many a "figure de Vierge" have I seen in
Dutch pictures exactly resembling hers; there were no angles in
her shape or in her face, all was curve and roundness—neither
thought, sentiment, nor passion disturbed by line or flush the
equality of her pale, clear skin; her noble bust heaved with her
regular breathing, her eyes moved a little—by these evidences of
life alone could I have distinguished her from some large
handsome figure moulded in wax. Hortense was of middle size and
stout, her form was ungraceful, her face striking, more alive and
brilliant than Eulalie's, her hair was dark brown, her complexion
richly coloured; there were frolic and mischief in her eye:
consistency and good sense she might possess, but none of her
features betokened those qualities.
Caroline was little, though evidently full grown; raven-black
hair, very dark eyes, absolutely regular features, with a
colourless olive complexion, clear as to the face and sallow
about the neck, formed in her that assemblage of points whose
union many persons regard as the perfection of beauty. How, with
the tintless pallor of her skin and the classic straightness of
her lineaments, she managed to look sensual, I don't know. I
think her lips and eyes contrived the affair between them, and
the result left no uncertainty on the beholder's mind. She was
sensual now, and in ten years' time she would be coarse—promise
plain was written in her face of much future folly.