a yellow riband, is Madame Pierrot; she comes from Lisle, in
France, and teaches French."

"Do you like the teachers?"

"Well enough."

"Do you like the little black one, and the Madame -- ? I
cannot pronounce her name as you do."

" Miss Scatcherd is hasty -- you must take care not to offend
her; Madame Pierrot is not a bad sort of person."

"But Miss Temple is the best -- isn't she?"

" Miss Temple is very good, and very clever; she is above
the rest, because she knows far more than they do."

"Have you been long here?"

"Two years."

"Are you an orphan?"

"My mother is dead."

"Are you happy here?"

"You ask rather too many questions. I have given you an-
swers enough for the present. Now I want to read."

But at that moment the summons sounded for dinner: all
re-entered the house. The odour which now filled the refec-
tory was scarcely more appetizing than that which had regaled
our nostrils at breakfast. The dinner was served in two huge
tin-plated vessels, whence rose a strong steam redolent of
rancid fat. I found the mess to consist of indifferent potatoes
and strange shreds of rusty meat, mixed and cooked together.
Of this preparation a tolerably abundant plateful was appor-
tioned to each pupil. I ate what I could, and wondered
within myself whether every day's fare would be like this.

After dinner, we immediately adjourned to the schoolroom:
lessons recommenced, and were continued till five o'clock.

The only marked event of the afternoon was that I saw
the girl with whom I had conversed in the verandah, dis-
missed in disgrace, by Miss Scatcherd, from a history class,
and sent to stand in the middle of the large schoolroom. The
punishment seemed to me in a high degree ignominious, es-
pecially for so great a girl -- she looked thirteen or upwards.
I expected she would show signs of great distress and shame;
but to my surprise she neither wept nor blushed. Composed,
though grave, she stood, the central mark of all eyes. "How

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