uld vex, tease, pique me
sometimes about what she called my "bizarreries anglaises," my "caprices
insulaires," with a wild and witty wickedness that made a perfect white
demon of her while it lasted. This was rare, however, and the elfish
freak was always short: sometimes when driven a little hard in the war
of words--for her tongue did ample justice to the pith, the point, the
delicacy of her native French, in which language she always attacked
me--I used to turn upon her with my old decision, and arrest bodily the
sprite that teased me. Vain idea! no sooner had I grasped hand or arm
than the elf was gone; the provocative smile quenched in the expressive
brown eyes, and a ray of gentle homage shone under the lids in its
place. I had seized a mere vexing fairy, and found a submissive and
supplicating little mortal woman in my arms. Then I made her get a book,
and read English to me for an hour by way of penance. I frequently dosed
her with Wordsworth in this way, and Wordsworth steadied her soon; she
had a difficulty in comprehending his deep, serene, and sober mind; his
language, too, was not facile to her; she had to ask questions, to sue
for explanations, to be like a child and a novice, and to acknowledge
me as her senior and director. Her instinct instantly penetrated and
possessed the meaning of more ardent and imaginative writers. Byron
excited her; Scott she loved; Wordsworth only she puzzled at, wondered
over, and hesitated to pronounce an opinion upon.

But whether she read to me, or talked with me; whether she teased me
in French, or entreated me in English; whether she jested with wit,
or inquired with deference; narrated with interest, or listened with
attention; whether she smiled at me or on me, always at nine o'clock I
was left abandoned. She would extricate herself from my arms, quit
my side, take her lamp, and be gone. Her mission was upstairs; I have
followed her sometimes and watched her. First she opened the door of the
dortoir (the pupils' chamber), noiselessly she glided up the long room
between the two rows of white beds, surveyed all the sleepers; if any
were wakeful, especially if any were sad, spoke to them and soothed
them; stood some minutes to ascertain that all was safe and tranquil;
trimmed the watch-light which burned in the apartment all night, then
withdrew, closing the door behind her without sound. Thence she glided
to our own chamber; it had a little cabinet within; this she sought;