With anguish of spirit
he felt the approach of the moment which summoned him to this dread
duty, for, in addition to the lively spite of Master Felix and the
other children, he had to face the awful superintendence of Mrs.
Tootle herself; who was invariably present at these lessons. Mrs.
Tootle had somehow conceived the idea that French was a second
mother-tongue to her, and her intercourse with Mr. Egger was
invariably carried on in that language. Now this was a refinement of
torture, seeing that it was often impossible to gather a meaning
from her remarks, whilst to show any such difficulty was to incur
her most furious wrath. Egger trembled when he heard the rustle of
her dress outside, the perspiration stood on his forehead as he rose
and bowed before her.
"Bon jour, Monsieur," she would come in exclaiming. "Quel un beau
matin! Vous trouverez les jeunes dames et messieurs en bons eaprits
ce matin."
The spirits of Master Felix had manifested themselves already in his
skilfully standing a book upright on the teacher's chair, so that
when Egger subsided from his obeisance he sat down on a sharp edge
and was thrown into confusion.
"Monsieur Felix," cried his mother, "que faites-vous la?--Les
jeunes messieurs anglais sont plus spirituels que les jeunes
messieurs suisses, n'est ce pas, Monsieur Egger?"
"En effet, madame," muttered the teacher, nervously arranging his
books.
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