Susan was silent. There was not much reason certainly that Sophia Jane should wish to please her; then a bright idea came into her head.

"If you'll promise not to laugh at French lessons," she said, "I'll give you a new head for your doll as soon as I've got enough money."

Sophia Jane considered this offer with her head on one side; then she asked:

"What price?"

"Half-a-crown," answered Susan, "and that will buy the very best you can get."

"Well," said Sophia Jane slowly, "I promise."

"But if you whisper, or make faces, or nudge me with your elbow you won't have it," added Susan hastily.

"You didn't say all that at first," said Sophia Jane; "but I _will_ promise."

So the agreement was made, and moreover written down in Susan's best printing hand, and signed by Sophia Jane. Even then Susan felt by no means sure of the result, for it was so much more natural to her companion to be naughty than good.

Thursday came, and Monsieur La Roche also at his usual hour; Susan put on her most discreet behaviour, and kept anxious watch over Sophia Jane.

But there was no need for anxiety, her conduct was perfect, and she not only preserved the strictest gravity, but also showed the most marvellous quickness in learning her lessons. Though she might be a naughty child, no one could accuse her of being a dull one; she grasped the meaning of anything like lightning, and while Susan was steadily bringing her mind to bear on a French verb, Sophia Jane knew it already, and could repeat it without a mistake. She showed indeed such zeal and attention throughout the lessons, that it had a sobering effect even upon Nanna and Margaretta, who were so employed in wondering at her that they did not giggle nearly so much as usual.

Monsieur himself was not less surprised at this sudden improvement in his cla.s.s, and above all in Sophia Jane, who had, without question, been his worst and most backward pupil. When his lesson was finished he beamed kindly at her and said, "It is _tr-res_ bien, mademoiselle. I am much pleased with you to-day."

It was such a new thing for anyone to be much pleased with Sophia Jane that it hardly seemed possible, and everyone stared at her. Aunt Hannah turned round from her chair at the fireside to see who had deserved this praise. Sophia Jane! It was an unheard-of thing. The child herself was so unused to the sound of kindness and approval, that it startled her as though she had received a blow. She reddened, gave all her features a sudden twist, and blinked her eyes at Monsieur for an answer.

"Sit straight, Sophia Jane, and don't make faces," said Aunt Hannah, and the well-known accents of blame at once restored her to her usual state.

The moment Monsieur was gone she was the old Sophia Jane again, tiresome and disobedient as ever. And Susan, remembering the compact about the half-crown, was not surprised at this, for, she thought to herself, "she's not really doing it because she wants to be good, but because she wants a new head for the doll." It was quite possible, therefore, still to feel that she was much better than her companion, and this was not unpleasant.

Meanwhile she was much looking forward to seeing Mademoiselle Delphine again, for Aunt Hannah intended to pay her a visit soon to thank her for her kindness, and she had promised to take both the little girls with her. Grace, the doll, must also be fetched home, for Susan had been too sleepy to remember her, and had left her behind. Monsieur's house was found with some difficulty, but at length Sophia Jane's sharp eyes spied a dusty card in a window with "Monsieur La Roche, Professor of French,"

written on it, and they knew that this must be the right one. Susan wondered whether Mademoiselle would quickly open the door herself as she had done before, but this time a very untidy maid-servant appeared with smudges on her face. There were many other lodgers in the house beside Monsieur and his sister, who had the cheapest rooms of all, an underground one which Susan had thought to be the kitchen, and two tiny attics in the roof. They found Mademoiselle waiting to receive them with a yellow ribbon at her neck, and a manner full of gracious affability. Gambetta sat on the hearth, and the room was perfectly neat and clean, but by daylight; it wanted the air of snugness and comfort which Susan remembered. There was a very tiny fire, and it all looked bare and cold, for the window was so placed that the sunlight could not possibly enter. Mademoiselle partly made up, however, for the dreariness of her lodging by smiles and pleasant conversation. She was delighted to see them all, and to renew her acquaintance with Susan, chattering so fast that Sophia Jane had plenty of time to notice everything, and presently fixed her eyes, full of admiration, on Gambetta, who sat with rather a vexed look on his face by the small fire.

Presently he rose, stretched himself, humped his back, and then jumped up on his mistress' lap.

"Fi donc!" said she, settling her knees more comfortably for him.

"That is a fine cat," remarked Aunt Hannah; "a great pet, no doubt?"

"You say truly, Madame," replied Delphine gently rubbing Gambetta under the chin; "but above all with my brother. I may say that Gambetta is the pupil of his eye. How often have I made him reproaches because he will leave the best of his potage, and pour it in the saucer for this cat! And that in the days when there was not too much potage, look you, for either of us. On his side the animal adores Adolphe. He knows his step, he has his little pleasantries for him, and his caresses. When my brother arrives at night tired, and perhaps a little dejected, it is Gambetta who knows how to cheer him. And then, he reminds us of Paris, he is the only thing of value we brought from there. He is an exile as well as we, and has shared our fortunes."

"No wonder you are so fond of him," said Aunt Hannah; "but I see he has no collar. Are you not afraid of losing such a valuable cat?"

"That is often in my mind," replied Mademoiselle. "I fear it may arrive some day, for at times he makes long courses. The next time we have a little money to spare we will buy him one, and cause the address to be graved upon it."

Both Susan and Sophia Jane listened with much interest to all this, and the latter was particularly impressed by it; she looked from Delphine's expressive face to Gambetta's when the collar was mentioned, and seemed about to ask a question, but checked herself suddenly. Grace being now produced from a table drawer, it was found that Mademoiselle's clever fingers had actually made for her a new bonnet, a most elegant one, of drawn grey silk. While Susan was admiring it, Delphine turned to Sophia Jane:

"And the leetle companion?" she said, "has she also a poupee?"

Sophia Jane hung her head, and looked rather ashamed. "Only one without a head," she muttered.

"Ah! that is sad indeed," said Mademoiselle. "It is impossible to fashion a bonnet for a lady without a head, is it not? But when you have a new one, I will also make her a bonnet like this. I have yet some more silk."

Susan could not help giving a glance full of meaning at her companion, but Sophia Jane did not respond to it, except by a dark frown.

"When Mademoiselle La Roche is so kind, Sophia Jane," said Aunt Hannah, "the least you can do is to thank her and look pleasant. You never see Susan frown like that."

On the way home there was a great deal to be said about Mademoiselle Delphine, and Susan was so delighted with Grace's new bonnet that she could not repeat too often how kind it was of her to have made it.

"And aren't you glad she's going to make one for you too?" she asked.

Sophia Jane had been unusually silent and thoughtful since they had started, and made absent replies to all Susan's remarks. She seemed to be turning something over in her mind, and the question had to be repeated before she took any notice. Then she only answered calmly:

"Oh, yes, of course," as if it were the very merest trifle, and she had presents every day, which was by no means the case. Susan looked curiously at her, there were often moments when she did not know what to make of Sophia Jane. Then she said:

"Shall I ask Aunt Hannah to let us stop and look up at Miss Powter's window?"

Miss Powter kept a toy-shop in the High Street, and only a few days ago had shown in her window quite a collection of dolls' heads, both china and wax.

"If you like," said Sophia Jane indifferently.

Susan ran up to Aunt Hannah, who was walking a little way in front, and put her request, which being granted, the little girls were soon gazing in at Mrs Powter's shop-front. The heads were still there, a long row of them, some fair, some dark, some with blue eyes, some with black.

"Now, which should you choose?" asked Susan with much interest; "a wax or a china one?"

"A wax one," said Sophia Jane; "because I could brush her hair."

"But you couldn't wash her," objected Susan; "and china wears best."

Sophia Jane did not seem disposed to linger long, though generally she was never tired of Miss Powter's window. She did not enter into the matter with nearly enough spirit to please Susan, who as they walked on suggested:

"If I were you I should have that one--the last in the row, with fair hair. She's rather like Grace, and you see, as their bonnets will be alike, we might call them sisters."

"If I buy a head at all perhaps I may," was Sophia's puzzling remark.

"Well, but you're sure to," said Susan. "Next week I shall have the half-crown, and we can go and choose it together. You mean to, don't you?"

"Perhaps I do and perhaps I don't," answered Sophia Jane, and could not be induced to say more on the subject.

Certainly she would win that half-crown easily, for her behaviour to Monsieur La Roche was worthy of all praise. Susan even began to think that she was overdoing it a little, for she was now beyond all the others in the cla.s.s. Earnest effort, and a naturally quick intelligence joined to it, produced such good results that Monsieur had now a habit of turning to Sophia Jane when he asked an unusually difficult question.

Could it be entirely for the sake of the half-crown that she made these extraordinary exertions? Susan began to feel jealous of her companion's progress and a little ill-used; for although she tried hard to please Monsieur, it was quite evident that the pupil he was most proud of was Sophia Jane. "If he knew," thought Susan to herself, "why she does it, perhaps he wouldn't be so pleased. And I don't suppose she'll take so much trouble when once she's got the money."

It was a very new thing for Sophia Jane to be more praised than herself; and though Susan would not perhaps have acknowledged that she was sorry to see her good behaviour, it yet made her feel uncomfortable when Monsieur looked so very pleased with her. She had fully intended to be his model pupil herself, an example to all the others, and it was disappointing to give up that place to one whom she had considered so far beneath her. Besides this, it was a little difficult when the time came to part with the half-crown. It would only leave sixpence in her purse--Maria's lucky sixpence with a hole in it--and that she did not want to spend. It was comforting, however, to remember that her birthday was near, when her mother would certainly send her some money as a present. And she was really anxious for Sophia Jane to have a doll to play with, and it would be nice to go and see Mademoiselle Delphine again about the bonnet; and finally, a bargain was a bargain, and decidedly the half-crown had been fairly earned. So, all these things considered, she cheerfully counted out one shilling, two sixpences, and six pennies, and went to look for Sophia Jane.

She was in the sitting-room alone, seated in Aunt Hannah's large arm-chair with an open book in her lap which she was intently studying.

"Here's your money," said Susan, plunging at once into the business on hand.

Sophia Jane neither answered or took the least notice; but as this was often a tiresome way of hers Susan was not surprised, and only repeated a little louder:

"Here's your money!"