the wardrobe, she made me put it on, and admonished me to eat mybreakfast quickly, as I must rise and attend prayers in the space ofthree-quarters of an hour.
Here was hurry indeed. I munched my delicious rolls, and sipped mycoffee, and thought of the new life which was before me, and then I gotup with energy and washed and dressed. When I had completed my toilet Iwent into the sitting-room, for although our rooms opened one into theother, there were other doors on to an adjoining landing. Here I foundHermione waiting for me.
"Where's Augusta?" I said.
"I don't know--surely she is dressed."
"I'll go to her room and find out," I said.
I went and knocked at the door. A heavy voice said "Come in," and Ientered. Augusta was now lying well wrapped up in the bedclothes. Shehad not touched either her coffee or her rolls.
"Aren't you getting up?" I said. "The bell will ring in a moment forprayers. We are expected to go down."
"I have a headache," said Augusta.
"Are you really ill, Augusta? I am sorry."
"I am not ill, but I have a headache. I had bad dreams last night."
"And you never got into bed at all."
"I fell asleep, and my dreams were troublesome. I can't get up yet.No, I won't have any breakfast. I wish I hadn't come; I don't like thisplace."
I knelt down by the bed and took her hand.
"You know that your mother and your uncle wouldn't have made such aneffort to send you here if they didn't think it would be for your good,"I said. "Do try and like it."
There was a new tone in my voice. I really felt sorry for her. Sheraised her head and fixed her dark eyes on my face.
"Do you think your father would like it?"
"I am sure he would, Augusta," I said; and an idea flashed through mybrain. I would write that very day to my step-mother and beg her to getmy father to send Augusta a message. The slightest word from him wouldcontrol her life; she would work hard at her French, her German, hard atmanners, refinement--at everything--if only he would give her the clue.Surely my step-mother would manage it.
I flashed a bright glance at her now.
"I know that my father would like it. I'll tell the Baroness you arenot well and cannot come down this morning."
"The Baroness? What did you say?" said Augusta.
"Our head-mistress; her name is Baroness von Gablestein."
Augusta closed her eyes and shivered.
"To this we have sunk," I heard her mutter, and then she turned her faceto the wall.
A great bell, musical and dear, sounded all over the house.
"That is our summons," I said. "Mademoiselle Wrex will meet us on thenext landing, and I will come to you as soon as I can."
I left the room.
"What's the matter?" said Hermione.
"She says she has a headache, but I think she is mostly sulking," Ireplied. "I am going to write to my step-mother; I think I know how tomanage her."
"Dumps, how bright you look--and how happy!" Yes, I was happy; I wasfeeling in my heart of hearts that I really meant to do my very best.
On the next landing we met Mademoiselle Wrex. See looked approvingly atus. I told her about Augusta, and she said she would see to the younglady, but in the meantime we must follow her downstairs. We went downand down. How airy and fresh, and I must say how cold also, the housefelt! I had always imagined that French houses were warm. When wearrived on the ground _etage_ we turned to our left and entered a verylarge room. Like all the other rooms in the house, it was bare ofcarpet. On a sort of dais at the top of the room there stood theBaroness von Gablestein. She was one of the handsomest and mostdistinguished-looking women I had ever seen. She was not young; shemust have been between forty and fifty years of age. Her hair was darkby nature, but was now very much mixed with grey. She had dark and verythick eyebrows, and a broad and massive forehead. She wore her hair ona high cushion rolled back from her face. The rest of her features wereregular and very clearly cut. Her lips were sweet but firm, and hereyes dark and very penetrating. But it was not her mere features, itwas the clear, energetic, and yet joyous expression of her face which socaptivated me that I, Dumps, stood perfectly still when I saw her, anddid not move for the space of two or three seconds. I felt some onepoke me in the back, and a voice in broken English said, "But stare notso. Go right forward."
I turned, and saw a girl much shorter than myself, and much more podgy,who glanced at me, smiled, and pointed to a bench where I was to sit.
The Baroness read a few verses of Scripture in the French tongue, andthen we all knelt down and a collect for the day was read, also inFrench, and then we were desired to join our different classes in theschoolroom. I stood still, and so did Hermione. The Baroness seemed toobserve us for the first time, and raised her brows.
Mademoiselle Wrex came up and said something to her.
"Ah, yes," I heard her say in very sweet, clear English. "The dearchildren! But certainly I will speak with them."
She went down two or three steps and came to meet us.
"You are Rachel Grant," she said. "Welcome to our school.--And you areHermione Aldyce. Welcome to our school."
She had a sort of regal manner; she bent and kissed me on the centre ofmy forehead, and she did the same to Hermione.
"I trust you will enjoy your life here. I trust you will in allrespects be worthy of the reputation of our school; and I trust, also,that we shall do our utmost to make you happy and wise."
She paused for a minute.
"My dear children," she said then, "this is a very busy hour for me, andI will see you later; in the meantime I leave you in the care ofMademoiselle Wrex, who will take you to those teachers who willsuperintend your studies."
I felt my cheeks growing very red. Hermione was cool and composed. Wefollowed Mademoiselle Wrex through several rooms into the schoolroom,and there we were examined by a German lady, who put us in a very lowform as regarded that language. We were next questioned by a Frenchmademoiselle, who did likewise; but an English lady, with amatter-of-fact and very quiet face, rescued us from the ignominiousposition in which we found ourselves with regard to German and French bydiscovering that our attainments in our mother-tongue were by no meanscontemptible.
In the end we found, so to speak, our level, and our school life beganright merrily.
Late that evening I found time to write a few words to my step-mother.
"I will tell you all about the school later on," I began. "At present I feel topsy-turvy and whirly-whirly; I don't know where I am, nor what has happened to me. I dare say I shall like it very much, but I will keep my long letter for Sunday; we have all the time we want for ourselves on Sunday; no one interferes, and we are allowed to talk in our own tongue--that is, if we wish to do so. What I am specially writing to you about now is Augusta. She is taking the change in her circumstances very badly, I must say, my dear step-mother; she is not reconciled. She would not get up this morning, nor would she undress last night. She pleads a headache, and will not eat. But, at the same time, Mademoiselle Wrex, who has the charge of our department, cannot find anything special the matter with her. I think it is a case of homesickness, but not the ordinary sort, for she is certainly not pining for her mother. It really is a case of grieving because she cannot attend my father's lectures. She does think a great deal of him, and seems to have set her whole life by his example. Now, if you could get him to send her the tiniest little note, just the merest line, to say he hopes she will do well and like her French and German--oh, anything will do--she will do her duty and will be as happy as the day is long. You are so clever, I know you can manage it. I haven't time for another word.--Your affectionate step-daughter, Rachel Grant."
PART TWO, CHAPTER TEN.
THE PROFESSOR'S LETTER.
I cannot give all the particulars with regard to my life at the school,which was called Villa Bella Vista, although I cannot tell why; perhapsbecause
from the upper windows you could catch a glimpse of the ChampsElysees. Be that as it may, it was in some ways a Bella Vista for me, avery great change from my old life in the dark house near the ancientcollege, from poverty to luxury, from dullness to sunshine, from thecommonplace school to one which was the best that it was possible for aschool to be. The Baroness von Gablestein was a woman of greatintegrity of mind and great uprightness of bearing, and her strongpersonality she managed more or less to impress on all the girls. Ofcourse, there were black sheep in this fold, as there must be blacksheep in every fold; but Hermione and I soon found our niche, and madefriends with some of the nicest girls. We liked our lessons; we tookkindly to French and German; Italian would follow presently. French andGerman were now the order