CHAPTER VI. Uprouse ye then, my merry, merry, men, JOANNA BAILLIE. HE grand, the important day, the opening THE day, arrived. How many times did I go into every room, look at each little white bed, see that everything was as it should be, and then return to my sofa, to remember something I had forgotten, and repeat my round! Fanny Ward had arrived the previous evening, as an inmate,—a privilege for which she had been burning, and already considered herself an established resident. This girl had conceived a strong affection for all of us, an intense love for Marian; and it was difficult not to reciprocate it, and to fancy her some young kinswoman, whose credit and interests were involved in the same concern. All the morning she was assisting in various little arrangements with the most pleasing alacrity, at everybody's call, running on messages, upstairs, downstairs, without the least obtrusiveness or fuss. "Jacintha! where are my keys?" "Here, Fanny! run with these keys to Miss Middlemass." "Fanny! Miss Marian is calling you." "Oh, Fanny, do help me to carry away all these old music-books. No! you can't carry them all, they are too heavy—I will help you." Fanny, however, triumphantly bore them off, and then returned for some other errand. Now and then, I saw her arm slip round Marian's waist. "The girls"-"the girls”— were frequently in her mouth. "Fanny, you must call them young ladies. And, remember, you must always henceforth say 'ma'am,' even to me." "Yes, ma'am." "Good girl. Not broadly, you know, but slightly, lightly." "Yes, ma'am." "That's it. You are going to be my tame elephant, you know, Fanny, and to teach the others how to fall into the right ways. You are not going to let them ever see the least insubordination or indiscretion on your part." Certainly, I ain't," said Fanny, aggrieved. "You must not say ain't,' Fanny." "Bain't?" said Fanny, pursing up her mouth, and looking droll. A pat was her rebuke: but a little smile. followed it. "Oh no," said Fanny, very seriously. "I only said that for fun, and I am never going to say such things when the others come. I will not give you the least morsel of trouble, if I can help it. I would rather save you a great deal! Only give me just a smile, or a kiss, or a pat, now and then, when nobody is by." "Well, I'll think of it, Fanny." Seven pupils were expected. The first was to come at about four o'clock, by the heavy coach, from some distance. Fanny sat near the window, anxiously watching for her, and, at intervals, reading Jane Taylor's "Correspondence between a Mother and a Daughter at School," frequently expressing her intention to be another Grace Dacre. "Here comes Miss Unwin!" said she at last. "Is there any reason, Miss Middlemass, why we should not call one another by our Christian names?" "Well-no, I think not," said I. "Isabella!" said Jacintha in an undertone, "you really must leave off speaking in that undecided way. 'I think not,' will never do for a schoolmistress!" "True," said I; and, at the same instant, Hawkins ushered in the new comer. She looked formal and shy. Jacintha and I received her with kindness; and then Marian and Fanny carried her off to her room. In about an hour Marian returned, saying she had left the two girls to get on together, which they were doing very well, and that Miss Unwin's ice was rapidly thawing under Fanny's sociability. Next came the two Miss Duncans, under the escort of their pleasant father. He was quite sure we should find them very good girls indeed, and that they would like school very much;" and while they, like Miss Unwin, were carried off by Marian and Fanny, he I |