Villette

herbs, »though scentless when entire, yield fragrance when they're bruised.«
    »Do not be sorrowful, do not grieve,« I broke out. »If there is in Ginevra one spark of worthiness of your affection, she will – she
must
feel devotion in return. Be cheerful, be hopeful, Dr. John. Who should hope, if not you?«
    In return for this speech I got – what, it must be supposed, I deserved – a look of some surprise: I thought also of some disapprobation. We parted, and I went into the house very chill. The clocks struck and the bells tolled midnight; people were leaving fast: the fête was over; the lamps were fading. In another hour all the dwelling-house, and all the Pensionnat, were dark and hushed. I too was in bed, but not asleep. To me it was not easy to sleep after a day of such excitement.
     

 
Chapter XV
The Long Vacation
    Following Madame Beck's fête, with its three preceding weeks of relaxation, its brief twelve hours' burst of hilarity and dissipation, and its one subsequent day of utter languor, came a period of reaction; two months of real application, of close, hard study. These two months, being the last of the ›année scolaire,‹ were indeed the only genuine working months in the year. To them was procrastinated – into them concentrated, alike by professors, mistresses, and pupils – the main burden of preparation for the examinations preceding the distribution of prizes. Candidates for rewards had then to work in good earnest; masters and teachers had to set their shoulders to the wheel, to urge on the backward, and diligently aid and train the more promising. A showy demonstration – a telling exhibition – must be got up for public view, and all means were fair to this end.
    I scarcely noted how the other teachers went to work; I had my own business to mind: and
my
task was not the least onerous, being to embue some ninety sets of brains with a due tincture of what they considered a most complicated and difficult science, that of the English language; and to drill ninety tongues in what, for them, was an almost impossible pronounciation – the lisping and hissing dentals of the isles.
    The examination-day arrived. Awful day! Prepared for with anxious care, dressed for with silent despatch – nothing vaporous or fluttering now – no white gauze or azure streamers; the grave, close, compact was the order of the toilette. It seemed to me that I was this day especially doomed – the main burden and trial falling on me alone of all the female teachers. The others were not expected to examine in the studies they taught; the professor of literature, M. Paul, taking upon himself this duty. He, this school-autocrat, gathered all and sundry reins into the hollow of his one hand; he irefully rejected any colleague; he would not have help. Madame herself, who evidently rather wished to undertake the examination in geography – her favourite study, which she taught well – was forced to succumb, and be subordinate to her despotic kinsman's direction. The whole staff of instructors, male and female, he set aside, and stood on the examiner's estrade alone. It irked him that he was forced to make one exception to this rule. He could not manage English: he was obliged to leave that branch of education in the English teacher's hands; which he did, not without a flash of naïve jealousy.
    A constant crusade against the ›amour-propre‹ of every human-being, but himself, was the crotchet of this able, but fiery and grasping little man. He had a strong relish for public representation in his own person, but an extreme abhorrence of the like display in any other. He quelled, he kept down when he could; and when he could not, he fumed like a bottled storm.
    On the evening preceding the examination-day, I was walking in the garden, as were the other teachers and all the boarders. M. Emanuel joined me in the ›allée défendue‹; his cigar was at his lips; his paletot – a most characteristic garment of no particular shape – hung dark and menacing; the tassel of his bonnet grec sternly shadowed his left temple; his black whiskers curled like those of a wrathful cat; his blue eye had a cloud in its glitter.
    »Ainsi,« he began, abruptly fronting and arresting me, »vous allez trôner comme une reine; domain – trôner à mes côtés? Sans doute vous savourez d'avance les délices de l'autorité. Je crois voir en vous je ne sais quoi de rayonnante, petite ambitieuse!«
    Now the fact was, he happened