CHAPTER X.

tocomplaintoMdlle.Reuter,andIreceivedherconsiderateinvitationtoconfidencewithasmile. “Athousandthanks,mademoiselle,allhasgoneverysmoothly.” Shelookedmorethandoubtful. “Etlestroisdemoisellesdupremierbanc?”saidshe. “Ah!toutvaaumieux!”wasmyanswer,andMdlle.Reuterceasedtoquestionmebuthereye—notlarge,notbrilliant,notmelting,orkindling,butastute,penetrating,practical,showedshewasevenwithmeitletoutamomentarygleam,whichsaidplainly,“Beascloseasyoulike,IamnotdependentonyourcandourwhatyouwouldconcealIalreadyknow.” Byatransitionsoquietastobescarcelyperceptible,thedirectress’smannerchangedtheanxiousbusiness-airpassedfromherface,andshebeganchattingabouttheweatherandthetown,andaskinginneighbourlywiseafterM.andMadamePelet.Iansweredallherlittlequestionssheprolongedhertalk,Iwentonfollowingitsmanylittlewindingsshesatsolong,saidsomuch,variedsooftenthetopicsofdiscourse,thatitwasnotdifficulttoperceiveshehadaparticularaiminthusdetainingme.Hermerewordscouldhaveaffordednocluetothisaim,buthercountenanceaidedwhileherlipsutteredonlyaffablecommonplaces,hereyesrevertedcontinuallytomyface.Herglanceswerenotgiveninfull,butoutofthecorners,soquietly,sostealthily,yetIthinkIlostnotone.IwatchedheraskeenlyasshewatchedmeIperceivedsoonthatshewasfeelingaftermyrealcharactershewassearchingforsalientpoints,andweakpoints,andeccentricpointsshewasapplyingnowthistest,nowthat,hopingintheendtofindsomechink,someniche,whereshecouldputinherlittlefirmfootandstanduponmyneck—mistressofmynature.Donotmistakeme,reader,itwasnoamorousinfluenceshewishedtogain—atthattimeitwasonlythepowerofthepoliticiantowhichsheaspiredIwasnowinstalledasaprofessorinherestablishment,andshewantedtoknowwherehermindwassuperiortomine—bywhatfeelingoropinionshecouldleadme. Ienjoyedthegamemuch,anddidnothastenitsconclusionsometimesIgaveherhopes,beginningasentenceratherweakly,whenhershrewdeyewouldlightup—shethoughtshehadmehavingledheralittleway,Idelightedtoturnroundandfinishwithsound,hardsense,whereathercountenancewouldfall.Atlastaservantenteredtoannouncedinnertheconflictbeingthusnecessarilyterminated,wepartedwithouthavinggainedanyadvantageoneitherside:Mdlle.Reuterhadnotevengivenmeanopportunityofattackingherwithfeeling,andIhadmanagedtobaffleherlittleschemesofcraft.Itwasaregulardrawnbattle.IagainheldoutmyhandwhenIlefttheroom,shegavemehersitwasasmallandwhitehand,buthowcool!Imethereyetooinfull—obliginghertogivemeastraightforwardlookthislasttestwentagainstme:itleftherasitfoundher—moderate,temperate,tranquilmeitdisappointed. “Iamgrowingwiser,”thoughtI,asIwalkedbacktoM.Pelet’s.“Lookatthislittlewomanisshelikethewomenofnovelistsandromancers?ToreadoffemalecharacterasdepictedinPoetryandFiction,onewouldthinkitwasmadeupofsentiment,eitherforgoodorbad—hereisaspecimen,andamostsensibleandrespectablespecimen,too,whosestapleingredientisabstractreason.NoTalleyrandwasevermorepassionlessthanZoraideReuter!”SoIthoughtthenIfoundafterwardsthatbluntsusceptibilitiesareveryconsistentwithstrongpropensities.