Happy in the confidence given me by my brother's assurance that I should easily get rid of the rain-blot, I went back to the Rue d'Isabelle, in some anxiety about M. Heger, but _nearly_ persuaded that, after all, perhaps, with his umbrella to think of and grasp, and the hurry he was in, he _very likely_ hadn't seen us. But when the pupil's door was opened in answer to my ring, and I was hoping to hurry through the corridor to the staircase leading to the dormitories, I found M. Heger waiting for me. He barred my path and looked down at me with his penetrating, mocking eyes,--that, although I do not like to contradict Charlotte, I still think had more green and steel, than violet-blue, colour in them. 'A-ah,' he said with his long-drawn sigh, 'you are attentive at my lessons, Mees; do you now listen with the same attention to the sermon of the Minister at your Temple?' Here was my opportunity; of course I ought to have said, '_No, Monsieur, I don't listen to any one with so much attention as I do to you: no one interests me so much_.' When I had got upstairs and had taken off the _chapeau d'uniforme_, I realised that this was what any rational being would have said. But it was too late then--all I did say was, '_Je ne sais pas, Monsieur_' (a bad French accent too). 'A-ah,' he repeated, tightening his mouth, 'now I should like to see whether you profit by the instructions of your Minister: Thus I shall be glad if you will write me a _résumé_ in French of the sermon you heard to-day at the Temple. It will be a good exercise for you in the French language. And also I shall enjoy the happiness of knowing this wise Minister's advice. It is understood, you will give me the _résumé_ of this sermon to-morrow.' '_Oui, Monsieur_.'