Besides, I seemed to hold two lives--the life of thought, and that of reality; and, provided the former was nourished with a sufficiency of the strange necromantic joys of fancy, the privileges of the latter might remain limited to daily bread, hourly work, and a roof of shelter.
"Come," said Madame, as I stooped more busily than ever over the cutting-out of a child's pinafore, "leave that work." "But Fifine wants it, Madame." "Fifine must want it, then, for I want _you_." And as Madame Beck did really want and was resolved to have me--as she had long been dissatisfied with the English master, with his shortcomings in punctuality, and his careless method of tuition--as, too, _she_ did not lack resolution and practical activity, whether _I_ lacked them or not--she, without more ado, made me relinquish thimble and needle; my hand was taken into hers, and I was conducted down-stairs.

When we reached the carre, a large square hall between the dwelling-house and the pensionnat, she paused, dropped my hand, faced, and scrutinized me.

I was flushed, and tremulous from head to foot: tell it not in Gath, I believe I was crying.

In fact, the difficulties before me were far from being wholly imaginary; some of them were real enough; and not the least substantial lay in my want of mastery over the medium through which I should be obliged to teach.

I had, indeed, studied French closely since my arrival in Villette; learning its practice by day, and its theory in every leisure moment at night, to as late an hour as the rule of the house would allow candle-light; but I was far from yet being able to trust my powers of correct oral expression.
"Dites donc," said Madame sternly, "vous sentez vous reellement trop faible ?" I might have said "Yes," and gone back to nursery obscurity, and there, perhaps, mouldered for the rest of my life; but looking up at Madame, I saw in her countenance a something that made me think twice ere I decided.