_SCHOOL-DAYS AT CAEN._


One morning Bessie Fairfax rose to a new sensation. "To-day the classes
open, and there is an end of treats," cried Janey Fricker with a
despairing resignation. "You will soon see the day-scholars, and by
degrees the boarders will arrive. Madame was to come late last night,
and the next news will be of Miss Hiloe. Perhaps they will appear
to-morrow. Heigh-ho!"

"You are not to care for Miss Hiloe; I shall stand up for you. I have no
notion of tyrants," said Bessie in a spirited way. But her feelings were
very mixed, very far from comfortable. This morning it seemed more than
ever cruel to have sent her to school at her age, ignorant as she was of
school ways. She shuddered in anticipation of the dreadful moment when
it would be publicly revealed that she could neither play on the piano
nor speak a word of French. Her deficiencies had been confided to Janey
in a shy, shamefaced way, and Janey, who could chatter fluently in
French and play ten tunes at least, had betrayed amazement. Afterward
she had given consolation. There was one boarder who made no pretence of
learning music, and several day-scholars; of course, being French, they
spoke French, but not a girl of them all, not madame herself, could
frame three consecutive sentences in English to be understood.

In the novelty of the situation Janey was patroness for the day. Madame
Fournier had to be encountered after breakfast, and proved to be a
perfectly small lady, of most intelligent countenance and kind
conciliatory speech. She kissed Janey on both cheeks, and bent a
penetrating pair of brown eyes on Bessie's face, which looked intensely
proud in her blushing shyness. Madame had received from Mrs. Wiley (a