We lived far more in the garden than under a roof: classes were held, and meals partaken of, in the "grand berceau." Moreover, there was a note of holiday preparation, which almost turned freedom into licence.

The autumnal long vacation was but two months distant; but before that, a great day--an important ceremony--none other than the fete of Madame--awaited celebration.
The conduct of this fete devolved chiefly on Mademoiselle St.Pierre: Madame herself being supposed to stand aloof, disinterestedly unconscious of what might be going forward in her honour.

Especially, she never knew, never in the least suspected, that a subscription was annually levied on the whole school for the purchase of a handsome present.

The polite tact of the reader will please to leave out of the account a brief, secret consultation on this point in Madame's own chamber.
"What will you have this year ?" was asked by her Parisian lieutenant.
"Oh, no matter! Let it alone.

Let the poor children keep their francs," And Madame looked benign and modest.
The St.Pierre would here protrude her chin; she knew Madame by heart; she always called her airs of "bonte"-- "des grimaces." She never even professed to respect them one instant.
"Vite!" she would say coldly.