A French Lesson

           WhenSaraenteredtheschoolroomthenextmorningeverybodylookedatherwithwide,interestedeyes.Bythattimeeverypupil—fromLaviniaHerbert,whowasnearlythirteenandfeltquitegrownup,toLottieLegh,whowasonlyjustfourandthebabyoftheschool—hadheardagreatdealabouther.TheyknewverycertainlythatshewasMissMinchin’sshowpupilandwasconsideredacredittotheestablishment.OneortwoofthemhadevencaughtaglimpseofherFrenchmaid,Mariette,whohadarrivedtheeveningbefore.LaviniahadmanagedtopassSara’sroomwhenthedoorwasopen,andhadseenMarietteopeningaboxwhichhadarrivedlatefromsomeshop.

           "Itwasfullofpetticoatswithlacefrillsonthem—frillsandfrills,"shewhisperedtoherfriendJessieasshebentoverhergeography."Isawhershakingthemout.IheardMissMinchinsaytoMissAmeliathatherclothesweresograndthattheywereridiculousforachild.Mymammasaysthatchildrenshouldbedressedsimply.Shehasgotoneofthosepetticoatsonnow.Isawitwhenshesatdown."

           "Shehassilkstockingson!"whisperedJessie,bendingoverhergeographyalso."Andwhatlittlefeet!Ineversawsuchlittlefeet."

           "Oh,"sniffedLavinia,spitefully,"thatisthewayherslippersaremade.Mymammasaysthatevenbigfeetcanbemadetolooksmallifyouhaveaclevershoemaker.Idon’tthinksheisprettyatall.Hereyesaresuchaqueercolor."

           "Sheisn’tprettyasotherprettypeopleare,"saidJessie,stealingaglanceacrosstheroom;"butshemakesyouwanttolookatheragain.Shehastremendouslylongeyelashes,buthereyesarealmostgreen."