me, "Boarding School, Madame Fressard," and very promptly I said to
mamma, "It says 'Boarding School, Madame Fressard.'"

Mamma, my aunt, and the three gentlemen laughed heartily at my
assurance, and we entered the house. Madame Fressard came forward to
meet us, and I liked her at once. She was of medium height, rather
stout, and her hair turning grey, _a la Sevigne_. She had beautiful
large eyes, rather like George Sand's, and very white teeth, which
showed up all the more as her complexion was rather tawny. She looked
healthy, spoke kindly; her hands were plump and her fingers long. She
took my hand gently in hers, and half kneeling, so that her face was
level with mine, she said in a musical voice, "You won't be afraid of
me, will you, little girl?" I did not answer, but my face flushed as red
as a cockscomb. She asked me several questions, but I refused to reply.
They all gathered round me.

"Speak, child----Come, Sarah, be a good girl----Oh, the naughty little
child!"

It was all in vain. I remained perfectly mute. The customary round was
then made, to the bed-rooms, the dining-hall, the class-rooms, and the
usual exaggerated compliments were paid. "How beautifully it is all
kept! How spotlessly clean everything is!" and a hundred stupidities of
this kind about the comfort of these prisons for children. My mother
went aside with Madame Fressard, and I clung to her knees so that she
could not walk. "This is the doctor's prescription," she said, and then
followed a long list of things that were to be done for me.

Madame Fressard smiled rather ironically. "You know, Madame," she said
to my mother, "we shall not be able to curl her hair like that."