g left me very
hoarse and tired; as I quitted the schoolroom, and was passing along the
corridor, I met Mdlle. Reuter; she remarked, with an anxious air, that
I looked very pale and tired. "Yes," I said, "I was fatigued;" and then,
with increased interest, she rejoined, "You shall not go away till you
have had some refreshment." She persuaded me to step into the parlour,
and was very kind and gentle while I stayed. The next day she was kinder
still; she came herself into the class to see that the windows were
closed, and that there was no draught; she exhorted me with friendly
earnestness not to over-exert myself; when I went away, she gave me
her hand unasked, and I could not but mark, by a respectful and gentle
pressure, that I was sensible of the favour, and grateful for it. My
modest demonstration kindled a little merry smile on her countenance;
I thought her almost charming. During the remainder of the evening, my
mind was full of impatience for the afternoon of the next day to arrive,
that I might see her again.

I was not disappointed, for she sat in the class during the whole of my
subsequent lesson, and often looked at me almost with affection. At four
o'clock she accompanied me out of the schoolroom, asking with solicitude
after my health, then scolding me sweetly because I spoke too loud and
gave myself too much trouble; I stopped at the glass-door which led into
the garden, to hear her lecture to the end; the door was open, it was a
very fine day, and while I listened to the soothing reprimand, I looked
at the sunshine and flowers, and felt very happy. The day-scholars began
to pour from the schoolrooms into the passage.

"Will you go into the garden a minute or two," asked she, "till they are
gone?"

I descended the steps without answering, but I looked back as much as to
say--

"You will come with me?"

In another minute I and the directress were walking side by side down
the alley bordered with fruit-trees, whose white blossoms were then in
full blow as well as their tender green leaves. The sky was blue, the
air still, the May afternoon was full of brightness and fragrance.
Released from the stifling class, surrounded with flowers and foliage,
with a pleasing, smiling, affable woman at my side--how did I feel? Why,
very enviably. It seemed as if the romantic visions my imagination had
suggested of this garden, while it was yet hidden from me by the jealous
boards, were more than realized; and, when