MONSIEUR BÉRANGER.
It was the half-hour intermission at school; and Marion and Florence had
taken Julia Thayer up into their room to give her a taste of some of the
goodies they had brought from home with them. Their room was one of the
largest in the house, having two deep windows; one in front, the other
on the side. The side window faced the west, and in it the girls had
placed a very pretty flower-stand filled with plants; an ivy was trained
against the side, and a lovely mirandia hung from the top. The front
window had a long seat fitted into it, and as it overlooked the street
it was here that the girls almost always sat at their work or studies.
"Now, Julie," began Marion, "which will you have, sponge or currant?"
"Why, you are getting awfully stingy!" exclaimed Flo; "give her some of
both."
"No, she can't have both; it is altogether too extravagant. This is my
treat, and you need not make any comments."
"Well, if I can't have but one, I think I'll try sponge."
"Sensible girl! you knew it would not keep long. There, you shall have
an Havana orange to pay you for your consideration."
"Please, ma'am," said Flo, in a voice of mock humility, "may I give her
some of my French candies?"
"Yes, if you'll be a very good girl, and never interfere again when I am
'head-cook and bottle-washer.'"
The girls sat round the room chatting and eating; Flora and Julia were
on the bed, when Marion, who was at the front window, jumped up on the
seat, and called out: "O Flo! Julie! do come here! Just look at this man
coming down the street. Such a swell!"
The two girls rushed precipitately to the window, and they all stood
looking out with intense interest.
"I do declare, he is coming in here! Who in the world can he be? How he
struts!" said Marion. "What a startling mustache! I do wonder who in the
world he is."
"Allow me to see, young ladies; perhaps I can inform you," said a calm
voice directly in their ears; and, turning, they beheld Miss Stiefbach.
She had entered the room just as they began their comments, and now
stood directly behind them. Florence and Julia fell back in dismay, and
for a second a look of amazement passed over Marion's face; but it was
only a second, for she instantly replied to Miss Stiefbach, in the same
eager tone she had used when speaking to her companions: "Jump right up
here; you can see him better, for he is underneath on the steps."
Miss Stiefbach looked at her aghast, and for once she was overpowered.
She, the calm, the dignified, the stately Miss Stiefbach--jump! It was
too much. If a glance could have transfixed her, Marion would have been
immovable for life. Miss Stiefbach's usually pale face was flushed to a
burning red, and her voice was choked with suppressed excitement, as she
said, "Young ladies, you will go at once to the school-room. Miss
Berkley, report to me in my study, immediately after the close of
school;" and she sailed out of the room.
When she was gone, the girls stood and looked at each other, not exactly
knowing whether to laugh or cry; but Marion decided for herself, by
sitting down on the floor, and bursting into a fit of uncontrollable
laughter. Florence held up her finger warningly, "Hush-sh-sh! Mab,
she'll hop out from under the bed, like as not; do come downstairs."
"O girls! girls! that look!" shouted Marion. "Oh, I shall die! She was
furious. Won't I catch it?"
"O Mab, how did you dare? It was awfully impudent."
"I know it, and I'm sure I don't know what made me say it. I never
stopped to think; it just popped out, and I would not have lost that
scene for anything;" and Marion went off again into one of her
laughing-fits.
"O Mab, do stop!" said Julia, rather impatiently; "you'll get us into a
pretty scrape."
"Well, I won't laugh another bit, if I can help it; come on!" and,
jumping up, Marion ran downstairs, the others following her, into the
school-room; when, what was their astonishment to see before them "the
swell," who had been the cause of all their trouble, standing talking to
Miss Stiefbach. They went quietly to their seats, wondering what would
happen next. Marion whispered to Flo, "The new French teacher; a man, as
I live, and not very old either. Won't we have fun?"
"Young ladies of the first class in French go into the anteroom, where
M. Béranger will examine you. Miss Christine, accompany them, and
preserve order." As Miss Stiefbach said this in her usual calm tones,
Marion's recollections were almost too much for her; but she had a
little laugh all to herself, behind the cover of her desk, as she took
out her books.
The former French teacher had been a little, quiet woman, who had
allowed herself to be ruled over by her pupils; but she had gone back to
France, and Miss Stiefbach had secured the services of M. Béranger, who
was recommended to her, both for his complete knowledge of his own
language, and for his high moral character. The latter was indeed to be
considered, for many foreigners, calling themselves professors, often
prove to be mere worthless adventurers, knowing very little themselves
of what they attempt to teach others, and being in other respects unfit
for respectable society.
The young ladies were in quite a little flutter of expectation, as they
took their seats, for Mr. Stein, their old music-teacher, was the only
gentleman teacher of the establishment, and he was decidedly different
from this rather elegant-looking Frenchman. M. Béranger came in, bowed
in a dignified manner, took his chair, and at once began questioning the
girls as to what they had studied, how far they were advanced, etc.
Marion, who was ready for anything, and thought she might as well have a
little more fun for the scolding that she knew was in store for her,
tried hard to get up a little excitement; pretending not to understand
when M. Béranger spoke to her; replying to all his questions in English,
notwithstanding his repeated ejaculations of "Mademoiselle, je ne vous
comprends pas du tout; parlez Français." But Marion would not "parlez
Français," disregarding the beseeching looks of Miss Christine, and
either made no reply, or obstinately spoke in English. For some time M.
Béranger took no notice of her conduct, but went on questioning the rest
of the class; assuring the timid by his polite, considerate patience,
and quietly correcting the mistakes of the more confident. At last,
however, as Marion asked him some trifling question, he looked her
directly in the face, and simply replied, "M'lle Berkley, si vous parlez
l'Anglais, il faut que je vous mette dans la classe des petites filles."
Marion looked at him a moment, in doubt whether he could be in earnest;
but there was no mistaking that calm, determined look. Two things were
before her: to rebel, and go down to the lower class in disgrace, or to
yield gracefully to what she knew to be right. She chose the latter, and
replied, "Monsieur, je pense que je resterai ici." As she said this,
there was a slight flush of shame on her cheeks, and she bent her head
with a little gesture, which seemed to beg pardon for her rudeness. At
any rate, M. Béranger so understood it, and he ever afterwards
entertained a secret respect and admiration for M'lle Berkley.
That night, in her own room, Marion thus explained her singular conduct:
"You see, Flo, I wanted to find out, in the first place, what sort of
stuff he was made of; whether he was to rule us, or we him, as we did
poor little mademoiselle; and I found out pretty quickly. He came here
to teach, not to be made game of. In two weeks, I expect to have the
true Parisian accent, and to have entirely forgotten all the English I
ever knew. Bonne nuit, ma chère;" and Marion turned over, and was asleep
in five minutes.