 each sleeve, were borne afar; in a second, I
followed the furniture; in two minutes they and I were fixed in the centre of
the grand salle - a vast adjoining room, seldom used save for dancing and choral
singing-lessons - fixed with an emphasis which seemed to prohibit the remotest
hope of our ever being permitted to stir thence again.
    Having partially collected my scared wits, I found myself in the presence of
two men - gentlemen, I suppose I should say - one dark, the other light - one
having a stiff, half-military air, and wearing a braided surtout; the other
partaking, in garb and bearing, more of the careless aspect of the student or
artist class: both flourishing in full magnificence of moustaches, whiskers, and
imperial. M. Emanuel stood a little apart from these; his countenance and eyes
expressed strong choler; he held forth his hand with his tribune gesture.
    »Mademoiselle,« said he, »your business is to prove to these gentlemen that
I am no liar. You will answer, to the best of your ability, such questions as
they shall put. You will also write on such theme as they shall select. In their
eyes, it appears I hold the position of an unprincipled impostor. I write
essays; and, with deliberate forgery, sign to them my pupils' names, and boast
of them as their work. You will disprove this charge.«
    Grand Ciel! Here was the show-trial, so long evaded, come on me like a
thunder-clap. These two fine, braided, moustachioed, sneering personages, were
none other than dandy professors of the college - Messieurs Boissec and
Rochemorte - a pair of cold-blooded fops and pedants, sceptics, and scoffers. It
seems that M. Paul had been rashly exhibiting something I had written -
something he had never once praised, or even mentioned, in my hearing, and which
I deemed forgotten. The essay was not remarkable at all; it only seemed
remarkable, compared with the average productions of foreign school-girls; in an
English establishment it would have passed scarce noticed. Messrs Boissec and
Rochemorte had thought proper to question its genuineness, and insinuate a
cheat; I was now to bear my testimony to the truth, and to be put to the torture
of their examination.
    A memorable scene ensued.
    They began with classics. A dead blank. They went on to French history. I
hardly knew Mérovée from Pharamond. They tried me in various 'ologies, and still
only got a shake of the head, and
