e author of "Guy
Livingstone" calls breakfast) that the young ladies were all compelled
to talk French (and such French!) during this period of refreshment.

"Toutes choses, la cuisine exceptee, sont Francaises, dans cet
etablissement peu recreatif," went on Janey, speaking low and fast.

"Je deteste le Francais," Margaret answered, "mais je le prefere
infiniment a l'Allemand."

"Comment accentuez, vous le mot prefere, Marguerite?" asked Miss
Marlett, who had heard the word, and who neglected no chance of
conveying instruction.

"Oh, two accents--one this way, and the other that," answered Margaret,
caught unawares. She certainly did not reply in the most correct
terminology.

"Vous allez perdre dix marks," remarked the schoolmistress, if
incorrectly, perhaps not too severely. But perhaps it is not easy
to say, off-hand, what word Miss Marlett ought to have employed for
"marks."

"Voici les lettres qui arrivent," whispered Janey to Margaret, as the
post-bag was brought in and deposited before Miss Marlett, who opened it
with a key and withdrew the contents.

This was a trying moment for the young ladies. Miss Marlett first
sorted out all the letters for the girls, which came, indubitably and
unmistakably, from fathers and mothers. Then she picked out the other
letters, those directed to young ladies whom she thought she could
trust, and handed them over in honorable silence. These maidens were
regarded with envy by the others. Among them was not Miss Harman,
whose letters Miss Marlett always deliberately opened and read before
delivering them.

"Il y a une lettre pour moi, et elle va la lire," said poor Janey to her
friend, who, for her part, never received any letters, save a few, at
stated intervals, from Maitland. These Miss Shields used to carry about
in her pocket without opening them till they were all crumply at the
edges. Then she hastily mastered their contents, and made answer in the
briefest and most decorous manner.

"Qui est votre correspondent?" Margaret asked. We are not defending her
French.

"C'est le pauvre Harry Wyville," answered Janey. "Il est sous-lieutenant
dans les Berkshires a Aldershot Pourquoi ne doit il pas ecrire a moi, il
est comme on diroit, mon frere."

"Est il votre parent?"

"Non, pas du tout, mais je l'ai connu pour des ans. Oh, pour des ans!
Voici, elle a deux depeches telegraphiques," Janey added, observing
two orange colored envelopes which had come in the mail-bag