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somewhat marked preponderance in her character； celebrity has a
tendency to foster this sentiment； and in her it should be rather
repressed—she rather needs keeping down than bringing forward；
and then I think； monsieur—it appears to me that ambition；
literary ambition especially； is not a feeling to be cherished in the
mind of a woman： would not Mdlle Henri be much safer and
happier if taught to believe that in the quiet discharge of social
duties consists her real vocation； than if stimulated to aspire after
applause and publicity？ She may never marry； scanty as are her
resources； obscure as are her connections； uncertain as is her
health （for I think her consumptive； her mother died of that
complaint）； it is more than probable she never will。 I do not see
how she can rise to a position； whence such a step would be
possible； but even in celibacy it would be better for her to retain
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the character and habits of a respectable decorous female。”
“Indisputably； mademoiselle；” was my answer。 “Your opinion
admits of no doubt；” and； fearful of the harangue being renewed； I
retreated under cover of that cordial sentence of assent。
At the date of a fortnight after the little incident noted above； I
find it recorded in my diary that a hiatus occurred in Mdlle Henri’s
usually regular attendance in class。 The first day or two I
wondered at her absence； but did not like to ask an explanation of
it； I thought indeed some chance word might be dropped which
would afford me the information I wished to obtain； without my
running the risk of exciting silly smiles and gossiping whispers by
demanding it。 But when a week passed and the seat at the desk
near the door still remained vacant； and when no allusion was
made to the circumstance by any individual of the class—when； on
the contrary； I found that all observed a marked silence on the
point—I determined； coute qui coute； to break the ice of this silly
reserve。 I selected Sylvie as my informant； because from her I
knew that I should at least get a sensible answer； unaccompanied
by wriggle； titter； or other flourish of folly。
“Où donc est Mdlle Henri？” I said one day as I returned an
exercise…book I had been examining。
“Elle est partie； monsieur。”
“Partie？ et pour combien de temps？ Quand reviendra…t…elle？”
“Elle est partie pour toujours； monsieur； elle ne reviendra
plus。”
“Ah！” was my involuntary exclamation； then after a pause：—
“En êtes…vous bien sure； Sylvie？”
“Oui； oui； monsieur； mademoiselle la directrice nous l’a dit elle…
même il y a deux ou trois jours。”
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And I could pursue my inquiries no further； time； place； and
circumstances forbade my adding another word。 I could neither
comment on what had been said； nor demand further particulars。
A question as to the reason of the teacher’s departure； as to
whether it had been voluntary or otherwise； was indeed on my
lips； but I suppressed it—there were listeners all round。 An hour
after； in passing Sylvie in the corridor as she was putting on her
bonnet； I stopped short and asked：—
“Sylvie； do you know Mdlle Henri’s address？ I have some books
of hers；” I added carelessly； “and I should wish to send them to
her。”
“No； monsieur；” replied Sylvie； “but perhaps Rosalie； the
portress； will be able to give it you。”
Rosalie’s cabinet was just at hand； I stepped in and repeated
the inquiry。 Rosalie—a smart French grisette—looked up from her
work with a knowing smile； precisely the sort of smile I had been
so desirous to avoid exciting。 Her answer was prepared； she knew
nothing whatever of Mdlle Henri’s address—had never known it。
Turning from her with impatience—for I believed she lied and was
hired to lie—I almost knocked down some one who had been
standing at my back； it was the directress。 My abrupt movement
made her recoil two or three steps。 I was obliged to apologize；
which I did more concisely than politely。 No man likes to be
dogged； and in the very irritable mood in which I then was the
sight of Mdlle Reuter thoroughly incensed me。 At the moment I
turned her countenance looked hard； dark； and inquisitive； her
eyes were bent upon me with an expression of almost hungry
curiosity。 I had scarcely caught this phase of physiognomy ere it
had vanished； a bland smile played on her features； my harsh
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apology was received with good…humoured facility。
“Oh； don’t mention it； monsieur； you only touched my hair with
your elbow； it is no worse； only a little dishevelled。” She shook it
back； and passing her fingers through her curls； loosened them
into more numerous and flowing ringlets。 Then she went on with
vivacity：—
Rosalie； I was coming to tell you to go instantly and close the
windows of the salon； the wind is rising； and the muslin curtains
will be covered with dust。”
Rosalie departed。 “Now；” thought I； “this will not do； Mdlle
Reuter thinks her meanness in eaves…dropping is screened by her
art in devising a pretext； whereas the muslin curtains she speaks
of are not more transparent than this same pretext。” An impulse
came over me to thrust the flimsy screen aside； and confront her
craft boldly with a word or two of plain truth。 “The rough…shod
foot treads most firmly on slippery ground；” thought I； so I
began：—
“Mademoiselle Henri has left your establishment—been
dismissed； I presume？”
“Ah； I wished to have a little conversation with you； monsieur；”
replied the directress with the most natural and affable air in the
world； “but we cannot talk quietly here； will Monsieur step into
the garden a minute？” And she preceded me； stepping out
through the glass…door I have before mentioned。
“There；” said she； when we had reached the centre of the
middle alley； and when the foliage of shrubs and trees； now in
their summer pride； closing behind end around us； shut out the
view of the house； and thus imparted a sense of seclusion even to
this little plot of ground in the very core of a capital。
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“There； one feels quiet and free when there are only pear…trees
and rose…bushes about one； I dare say you； like me； monsieur； are
sometimes tired of being eternally in the midst of life； of having
human faces always round you； human eyes always upon you；
human voices always in your ear。 I am sure I often wish intensely
for liberty to spend a whole month in the country at some little
farm…house； bien gentille； bien propre； tout entourée de champs et
de bois； quelle vie charmante que la vie champêtre！ N’est…ce pas；
monsieur？”
“Cela dépend； mademoiselle。”
“Que le vent est bon et frais！” continued the directress； and she
was right there； for it was a south wind； soft and sweet。 I carried
my hat in my hand； and this gentle breeze； passing through my
hair； soothed my temples like balm。 Its refreshing effect； however；
penetrated no deeper than