The day had now arrived when Mrs. Roberts was expected; the young people were all assembled in the school-room busy with their different tasks; Selina and Leila were seated silently at their writing-desks, translating English into French; Alfred quietly in a corner, drawing birds and animals on a slate, his favourite employment. Matilda alone was restless and unquiet; she kept constantly running from the table to the window, holding a book of French dialogues in her hand, and looking out on the approach, while she rhymed the same phrase over and over again: “Il faudra faire comme nous pourrons, il faudra faire comme nous pourrons, il faudra faire comme nous pourrons; now surely this is knocked into my brains.” Selina shook her head. “Well, Selina,” she continued, “you need not shake your head; il faudra faire comme nous pourrons, and I am sure I am doing the best I can.” “Are you?” Selina quickly said, and went on with her writing. “How provoking you are, Selina; there do you two sit as quietly as if nothing were going to happen, and as if Mrs. Roberts might not arrive every moment.” “But will running to the window and shaking the whole room make her come any sooner?” Selina inquired. “To be sure it will, that is, I shall see her sooner. Alfred, do run down and listen if you hear a carriage,” and she snatched the slate from his hand; “there’s a good boy, run down and do like Fine-ear, you know; stoop down and put your ear to the ground, there’s a man,” and she pushed him out at the door. Alfred returned again almost immediately. “I could not play at fine-ear, Matilda,” he said, “for I saw the carriage at a little distance the moment I went out; listen, it is stopping at the door now.” All the three young girls jumped up and ran instantly to the window. The steps of the carriage were let down, a ladylike person, rather slender, and rather above the middle height, stepped out, her bonnet entirely concealing her face. Mr. Stanley came forward, he seemed to welcome her kindly; they entered the house together. The next moment they heard the drawing-room door close. Matilda glided from the room. Selina looked anxiously after her; in a few minutes she returned. “I have seen her trunks,” she said; “I don’t like them.” Selina looked distressed. “Well, Selina, why do you put on that sorrowful face? I did not say I did not like her. Come, cheer up, I will do the best I can.” The drawing-room bell rang; in a few minutes Amy tapped at the school-room door to say the young ladies were wanted in the drawing-room. They all went down.