d'enfans" fumigated and cleansed, windows thrown open, and every trace of the accomplished Mrs. Sweeny—even to the fine essence and spiritual fragrance which gave token so subtle and so fatal of the head and front of her offending—was annihilated from the Rue Fossette: all this, I say, was done between the moment of Madame Beck's issuing like Aurora from her chamber, and that in which she coolly sat down to pour out her first cup of coffee.
About noon, I was summoned to dress madame. (It appeared my place was to be a hybrid between gouvernante and lady's-maid). Till noon, she haunted the house in her wrapping-gown, shawl, and soundless slippers. How would the lady-chief of an English school approve this custom?
The dressing of her hair puzzled me; she had plenty of it; auburn, unmixed with grey: though she was forty years old. Seeing my embarrassment, she said, "You have not been a femme de chambre in your own country?" And taking the brush from my hand and setting me aside, not ungently or disrespectfully, she arranged it herself. In performing other offices of the toilet, she half-directed, half-aided me, without the least display of temper or impatience.
