Anna, the only servant Miriam had seen so far--an enormous woman whose face, apart from the small eyes, seemed all "bony structure," Miriam noted in a phrase borrowed from some unremembered reading--brought in a tray filled with cups of milk, a basket of white rolls and a pile of little plates. Gertrude took the tray and handed it about the room. As Miriam took her cup, chose a roll, deposited it on a plate and succeeded in abstracting the plate from the pile neatly, without fumbling, she felt that for the moment Gertrude was prepared to tolerate her. She did not desire this in the least, but when the deep harsh voice fell against her from the bending Australian, she responded to the "Wie gefällt's Ihnen?" with an upturned smile and a warm "sehr gut!" It gratified her to discover that she could, at the end of this one day, understand or at the worst gather the drift of, all she heard, both of German and French. Mademoiselle had exclaimed at her French--les mots si bien choisis--un accent sans faute--it must be ear. She must have a very good ear. And her English was all right--at least, if she chose.... Pater had always been worrying about slang and careless pronunciation. None of them ever said "cut in half" or "very unique" or "ho'sale" or "phodygraff." She was awfully slangy herself--she and Harriett were, in their thoughts as well as their words--but she had no provincialisms, no Londonisms--she could be the purest Oxford English. There was something at any rate to give her German girls.... She could say, "There are no rules for English pronunciation, but what is usual at the University of Oxford is decisive for cultured people"--"decisive for cultured people." She must remember that for the class. "Na, was sticken Sie da Miss Henderson?" It was Fräulein Pfaff. Miriam who had as yet hardly spoken to her, did not know whether to stand or to remain seated. She half rose and then Fräulein Pfaff took the chair near her and Miriam sat down, stiff with fear. She could not remember the name of the thing she was making. She flushed and fumbled--thought of dressing-tables and the little objects of which she had made so many hanging to the mirror by ribbons; "toilet-tidies" haunted her--but that was not it--she smoothed out her work as if to show it to Fräulein--"Na, na," came the delicate caustic voice. "Was wird das wohl sein?" Then she remembered. "It's for a pin-cushion," she said. Surely she need not venture on German with Fräulein yet. "Ein Nadelkissen," corrected Fräulein, "das wird niedlich aussehen," she remarked quietly, and then in English, "You like music, Miss Henderson?" "Oh, _yes_," said Miriam, with a pounce in her voice. "You play the piano?" "A little." "You must keep up your practice then, while you are with us--you must have time for practice." 11