d been at home a week Mdlle. Reuter called one
evening, just after I had got my aunt to bed; she went into her room
to speak to her, and was extremely civil and affable, as she always is;
afterwards she came and sat with me a long time, and just as she rose to
go away, she said: "Mademoiselle, I shall not soon cease to regret your
departure from my establishment, though indeed it is true that you have
taught your class of pupils so well that they are all quite accomplished
in the little works you manage so skilfully, and have not the slightest
need of further instruction; my second teacher must in future supply
your place, with regard to the younger pupils, as well as she can,
though she is indeed an inferior artiste to you, and doubtless it will
be your part now to assume a higher position in your calling; I am sure
you will everywhere find schools and families willing to profit by your
talents.' And then she paid me my last quarter's salary. I asked, as
mademoiselle would no doubt think, very bluntly, if she designed to
discharge me from the establishment. She smiled at my inelegance of
speech, and answered that 'our connection as employer and employed was
certainly dissolved, but that she hoped still to retain the pleasure of
my acquaintance; she should always be happy to see me as a friend;' and
then she said something about the excellent condition of the streets,
and the long continuance of fine weather, and went away quite cheerful."

I laughed inwardly; all this was so like the directress--so like what I
had expected and guessed of her conduct; and then the exposure and proof
of her lie, unconsciously afforded by Frances:--"She had frequently
applied for Mdlle. Henri's address," forsooth; "Mdlle. Henri had always
evaded giving it," &c., &c., and here I found her a visitor at the very
house of whose locality she had professed absolute ignorance!

Any comments I might have intended to make on my pupil's communication,
were checked by the plashing of large rain-drops on our faces and on the
path, and by the muttering of a distant but coming storm. The warning
obvious in stagnant air and leaden sky had already induced me to take
the road leading back to Brussels, and now I hastened my own steps and
those of my companion, and, as our way lay downhill, we got on rapidly.
There was an interval after the fall of the first broad drops before
heavy rain came on; in the meantime we had passed through the Porte de
Louvain, a