Maybe, too, Susan’s French phrases would not have been turned back. Miss Fosbrook would have given a great deal not to have been obliged to do it, but she had prompted flagrantly already, and a teacher is obliged to have a conscience quite as much as a scholar; so the book was given back, and Susan spent twelve minutes in see-sawing herself, and going over the sentences in a rapid whispering gabble, a serious worry to the governess in listening to Bessie’s practising and David’s reading, but she thought it would be a hardship to be forbidden to learn in her own way at that moment, and forbore. David was interrupted in his “Little Arthur’s History,” and looked rather cross about it, for Susan to try again. She made all the same blunders—and more too! Back again! Poor Susie! Once, twice, thrice, has she read those stupid words over, and knows less of them than before. Davy’s loud voice will go into her understanding instead of those French phrases. She looks up in dull stupefaction. William Rufus is disposed of, and David, as grave as a judge, is taking up his slate, looking a little fussed because there is a scratch in the corner. “Well, Susan,” says Miss Fosbrook. Susan jumps up in desperation, and puts her hands behind her. Oh dear! oh dear! all that the gentlemen on a journey were saying to one another has gone clean out of her head! She cannot recollect the three first words. She only remembers that this is the third time, and another farthing is gone! She stands and stares. “Susan,” says Miss Fosbrook severely, “you never tried to learn this.” Susan gives a little gasp; and Elizabeth, who has said her French without a blunder, puts in an unnecessary and not very sisterly word: “Susan never will learn her French.” Susan’s honest eyes fill with tears, but she gulps them back. She will not cry away another farthing, but she does feel it very cross in Bessie, and she is universally miserable. Christabel feels heated, wearied, and provoked, and as if she were fast losing her own temper; and that made her resolve on mercy. “Susie,” she said with an effort, “run twice to the great lime-tree and back. Then take the book into my room, read this over three times, and we will try again.” Susan looked surprised, but she obeyed, came back, and repeated the phrases better than she had ever said French before. She was absolutely surprised and highly pleased, and she finished off her other lessons swimmingly; but oh, she was glad to be rid of them! Yes, they were off her mind, and so she deserved that they should be! She flew away to the nursery, and little Sarah was soon crowing in her arms.