Villette

irits refreshed: physical debility no longer ene

door: I said, “Come in,” expecting the chambe

your key

” I a

half-snatched them from my hand, he ad

stom-house. Where to go to get some breakfast I could not

ully little haste to get down), I gazed at the high ceiling above me, at the painted walls around, at the wide windows which filled the house with light, at the veined marble I trod (for the steps were all of mar

t I, for instance, was an individual of no social significance, and little burdened by cash? They did know it evidently: I saw quite well that they all, in a moment’s calculation, estimated me at

myself. Acting in the spirit and with the calm of a fatalist, I sat down at a small table, to which a waiter presently brought me some breakfast; and I partook of that meal in a frame of mind not greatly calculated to favour digestion. There were many other people breakfasting at other tables in the room; I should have felt rather more hap

ion of this slight sentence uttered carelessly and at random by Miss Fanshawe, as she bid me good-by: “I wish you would come to Ma

I knew I was catching at straws; but in the wide and weltering deep where I found myself, I would have caught at cobwebs. Having inquired about the means of travelling to Villette, and secured a seat in the diligence, I departed on the strength of this out

and slimy canals crept, like half-torpid green snakes, beside the road; and formal pollard willows edged level fields, tilled like kitchen-garden beds. The sky, too, was monotonously gray; the atmosphere was stagnant and humid; yet amidst all these deadening influences, my fancy budded fresh and my heart basked in sunshine. These feelings, however, w

ems to throw round a first arrival at an unknown bourne; but, what with our slow progress and long stoppages — what with a thi

s alighted. My first business was to get my trunk; a small matter enough, but important to me. Understanding that it was best not to be importunate or over-eager about luggage, but to wait and watch quietly the delivery of other boxes till I saw my own, and then p

might know it at a glance: not a fringe or fragment of green was perceptible. Every package was removed; every tin-case and brown-pa

nd little pocket-book enclasping the remn

only, the whole world seemed now gabbling around me. What should I do? Approaching the conductor, I just laid my hand on his arm, pointed to a trunk, thence t

good English; then, in correction, “Qu’est-ce

I, appealing to the stranger, without, in my distress, noticing what he was like, “I c

my eyes were raised and on which they were fixed, I felt in its expressi

ould do as much

gentlemanly tone — that is to say, a tone not har

he took the conductor under hand, and I felt, through all the storm of Frenc

it put on, and has left it behind at Boue-Marine with other parcels; he has promised, howeve

said I: but m

tleman saw the failure of courage in my face; he in

don’t know

dsome man; he might be a lord, for anything I knew: nature had made him good enough for a prince, I thought. His face was very pleasant; he looked high but n

in your trunk?” he

(for I had near twenty francs) “to keep me at a quiet inn till the day after to-morr

s you want,” said he; “and it is not far off

and as to distrusting him, or his advice, or his address, I should almost as soon have thought

park,” he continued; “but it is too late and too dark for a wom

r dripping from its trees; the park was black as midnight. In the double gloom of trees and fog, I could not see my guide; I could only f

will show you where they are: these steps you will descend: a narrower street lies below; following that, at the b

I: “accept my sinceres

the sound in my ear of his voice, which spoke a nature chivalric to the needy and feeble, as well as

ir dress implied pretensions to the rank of gentlemen, but, poor things! they were very plebeian in soul. They spoke with insolence, and, fast as I walked, they kept pace with me a long way. At last I met a sort of patrol, and my dreaded hunters were turned from the pursuit; but they had driven me beyond my reckoning: when I could c

eed narrow, but it contained no inn. On I wandered. In a very quiet and comparatively clean and well-paved street, I saw a light burning over the door of a rather

at porte-cochère: “Pensionnat de Demoiselles” was

ing, and considered nothing: I had not time. Providence said, “Stop here; this is your inn.”

door-lamp shone, and counted them and noted their shapes, and the glitter of wet on th

adame Beck?”

e concluded I was a foreign teacher come on business connected with the pensionnat, and, eve

orcelain stove, unlit, and gilded ornaments, and polished

sat with my eyes fixed on the door — a great white folding-door, with gilt mouldings: I watched to see a l

ow. I almost bounded, so unexpected was th

pect; merely a motherly, dumpy little woman, in a lar

e, but as I did not at all understand her — though we made together an awful clamour (anything like Madame’s gift of utterance I had not hitherto heard or imagined)— we achieved little progress. She rang, ere long, for aid; which arrived in the shape of a “ma?tresse,” who had been partly educated in an Irish convent, and was esteemed a perfect adept in the English language. A bluff little personage this ma?tresse was — Labassecourienne from top to toe: and how she did sla

sortes d’entreprises,” said she: “son

or a shade of compassion, crossed her countenance during the interview. I felt she was not one to be led an inch

et with a collected and controlled manner, I said, addressing herself personally, and not the ma?tresse: “Be assured, madame, that by instantly securing my services, your interests will be served and not injured: you will find me one who will wi

e; “but at least you

on

d in the vestibule, hastily proceeding to the outer door. (I shall go on with this part of my tale as if I had

emanded Madame Beck,

. “He came this evening to giv

at this moment most w

Paul was summoned. He entered: a sma

opinion. We know your skill in physiogn

n of the lips, and gathering of the brow, seemed to say that he

t,” he pr

en dite

choses,” was th

or

thout doubt,” pur

trust h

ating a matter

e or gouvernante; tells a tale full

s a st

woman, as o

peaks

a w

derstan

N

peak plainly in

btle

ly. “Do you nee

You know I am disgust

, when it at last came, was as ind

own reward; if evil — eh bien! ma cousine, ce sera toujours une bonne oeuvre

sing I was spared the necessity of passing forth again i