LETTER OF THE LADY SUPERIOR
"Your ladyship will forgive the brevity of my present letter. The public
examinations are but just concluded, and I have to communicate to all
the parents and guardians the progress which our pupils have made during
the past year. To you I may well be brief, having to say much in few
words. Your ladyship's daughter has proved herself first in every sense
of the word. The testimonials which I inclose, and her own letter, in
which she will detail to you the prizes which she has won, and the
happiness which she feels in her success, will surely please, and I hope
delight you. For myself, it is the less necessary that I should say
much, because I see that there will soon be no more occasion to keep
with us a young lady so far advanced. I send my respects to your
ladyship, and in a short time I shall take the liberty of offering you
my opinion as to what in future may be of most advantage to her.
"My good assistant will tell you about Ottilie."
LETTER OF THE ASSISTANT.
"Our reverend superior leaves it to me to write to you of Ottilie,
partly because, with her ways of thinking about it, it would be painful
to her to say what has to be said; partly, because she herself requires
some excusing, which she would rather have done for her by me.
"Knowing, as I did too well, how little able the good Ottilie was to
show out what lies in her, and what she is capable of, I was all along
afraid of this public examination. I was the more uneasy, as it was to
be of a kind which does not admit of any especial preparation; and even
if it had been conducted as usual, Ottilie never can be prepared to make
a display. The result has only too entirely justified my anxiety. She
has gained no prize; she is not even amongst those whose names have been
mentioned with approbation. I need not go into details. In writing, the
letters of the other girls were not so well formed, but their strokes
were far more free. In arithmetic, they were all quicker than she; and
in the more difficult problems, which she does the best, there was no
examination. In French, she was outshone and out-talked by many; and in
history she was not ready with her names and dates. In geography, there
was a want of attention to the political divisions; and for what she
could do in music there was neither time nor quiet enough for her few
modest melodies to gain attention. In drawing she certainly would have
gained the prize; her outlines were clear, and the execution most
careful and full of spirit; unhappily, she had chosen too large a
subject, and it was incomplete.
"After the pupils were dismissed, the examiners consulted together, and
we teachers were partially admitted into the council. I very soon
observed that of Ottilie either nothing would be said at all, or if her
name was mentioned, it would be with indifference, if not absolute
disapproval. I hoped to obtain some favor for her by a candid
description of what she was, and I ventured it with the greater
earnestness, partly because I was only speaking my real convictions, and
partly because I remembered in my own younger years finding myself in
the same unfortunate case. I was listened to with attention, but as soon
as I had ended, the presiding examiner said to me very kindly but
laconically, 'We presume capabilities: they are to be converted into
accomplishments. This is the aim of all education. It is what is
distinctly intended by all who have the care of children, and silently
and indistinctly by the children themselves. This also is the object of
examinations, where teachers and pupils are alike standing their trial.
From what we learn of you, we may entertain good hopes of the young
lady, and it is to your own credit also that you have paid so much
attention to your pupil's capabilities. If in the coming year you can
develop these into accomplishments, neither yourself nor your pupil
shall fail to receive your due praise.'
"I had made up my mind to what must follow upon all this; but there was
something worse that I had not anticipated, which had soon to be added
to it. Our good Superior, who like a trusty shepherdess could not bear
to have one of her flock lost, or, as was the case here, to see it
undistinguished, after the examiners were gone could not contain her
displeasure, and said to Ottilie, who was standing quite quietly by the
window, while the others were exulting over their prizes: 'Tell me, for
heaven's sake, how can a person look so stupid if she is not so?'
Ottilie replied, quite calmly, 'Forgive me, my dear mother, I have my
headache again today, and it is very painful.' Kind and sympathizing as
she generally is, the Superior this time answered, 'No one can believe
that,' and turned angrily away.
"Now it is true--no one can believe it--for Ottilie never alters the
expression of her countenance. I have never even seen her move her hand
to her head when she has been asleep.
"Nor was this all. Your ladyship's daughter, who is at all times
sufficiently lively and impetuous, after her triumph today was
overflowing with the violence of her spirits. She ran from room to room
with her prizes and testimonials, and shook them in Ottilie's face. 'You
have come badly off this morning,' she cried. Ottilie replied in her
calm, quiet way, 'This is not the last day of trial.' 'But you will
always remain the last,' cried the other, and ran away.
"No one except myself saw that Ottilie was disturbed. She has a way when
she experiences any sharp unpleasant emotion which she wishes to resist,
of showing it in the unequal color of her face; the left cheek becomes
for a moment flushed, while the right turns pale. I perceived this
symptom, and I could not prevent myself from saying something. I took
our Superior aside, and spoke seriously to her about it. The excellent
lady acknowledged that she had been wrong. We considered the whole
affair; we talked it over at great length together, and not to weary
your ladyship, I will tell you at once the desire with which we
concluded, namely, that you will for a while have Ottilie with yourself.
Our reasons you will yourself readily perceive. If you consent, I will
say more to you on the manner in which I think she should be treated.
The young lady your daughter we may expect will soon leave us, and we
shall then with pleasure welcome Ottilie back to us.
"One thing more, which another time I might forget to mention: I have
never seen Ottilie eager for anything, or at least ask pressingly for
anything. But there have been occasions, however rare, when on the other
hand she has wished to decline things which have been pressed upon her,
and she does it with a gesture which to those who have caught its
meaning is irresistible. She raises her hands, presses the palms
together, and draws them against her breast, leaning her body a little
forward at the same time, and turns such a look upon the person who is
urging her that he will be glad enough to cease to ask or wish for
anything of her. If your ladyship ever sees this attitude, as with your
treatment of her it is not likely that you will, think of me, and spare
Ottilie."
Edward read these letters aloud, not without smiles and shakes of the
head. Naturally, too, there were observations made on the persons and on
the position of the affair.
"Enough!" Edward cried at last, "it is decided. She comes. You, my love,
are provided for, and now we can get forward with our work. It is
becoming highly necessary for me to move over to the right wing to the
Captain; evenings and mornings are the time for us best to work
together, and then you, on your side, will have admirable room for
yourself and Ottilie."
Charlotte made no objection, and Edward sketched out the method in which
they should live. Among other things, he cried, "It is really very
polite in this niece to be subject to a slight pain on the left side of
her head. I have it frequently an the right. If we happen to be
afflicted together, and sit opposite one another--I leaning on my right
elbow, and she on her left, and our heads on the opposite sides, resting
on our hands--what a pretty pair of pictures we shall make."
The Captain thought that might be dangerous. "No, no!" cried out Edward.
"Only do you, my dear friend, take care of the D, for what will become
of B, if poor C is taken away from it?"
"That, I should have thought, would have been evident enough," replied
Charlotte.
"And it is, indeed," cried Edward; "he would turn back to his A, to his
Alpha and Omega;" and he sprung up and taking Charlotte in his arms,
pressed her to his breast.