he French when I was a child."

"Why do you not speak it now?"

"Because I have no English friends."

"You live with your father, I suppose?"

"My father is dead."

"You have brothers and sisters?"

"Not one."

"Do you live alone?"

"No--I have an aunt--ma tante Julienne."

"Your father's sister?"

"Justement, monsieur."

"Is that English?"

"No--but I forget--"

"For which, mademoiselle, if you were a child I should certainly devise
some slight punishment; at your age--you must be two or three and
twenty, I should think?"

"Pas encore, monsieur--en un mois j'aurai dix-neuf ans."

"Well, nineteen is a mature age, and, having attained it, you ought to
be so solicitous for your own improvement, that it should not be needful
for a master to remind you twice of the expediency of your speaking
English whenever practicable."

To this wise speech I received no answer; and, when I looked up, my
pupil was smiling to herself a much-meaning, though not very gay smile;
it seemed to say, "He talks of he knows not what:" it said this
so plainly, that I determined to request information on the point
concerning which my ignorance seemed to be thus tacitly affirmed.

"Are you solicitous for your own improvement?"

"Rather."

"How do you prove it, mademoiselle?"

An odd question, and bluntly put; it excited a second smile.

"Why, monsieur, I am not inattentive--am I? I learn my lessons well--"

"Oh, a child can do that! and what more do you do?"

"What more can I do?"

"Oh, certainly, not much; but you are a teacher, are you not, as well as
a pupil?"

"Yes."

"You teach lace-mending?"

"Yes."

"A dull, stupid occupation; do you like it?"

"No--it is tedious."

"Why do you pursue it? Why do you not rather teach history, geography,
grammar, even arithmetic?"

"Is monsieur certain that I am myself thoroughly acquainted with these
studies?"

"I don't know; you ought to be at your age."

"But I never was at school, monsieur--"

"Indeed! What then were your friends--what was your aunt about? She is
very much to blame."

"No monsieur, no--my aunt is good--she is not to blame--she does what
she can; she lodges and nourishes me" (I report Mdlle. Henri's phrases
literally, and it was thus she translated from the French). "She is not
rich; she has only an annuity of twelve hundred francs, and it would be
impossible for her to send me to school."

"Rather," thought I to myself on hearing this, but