be stigmatized; and then with some sarcasm, flavoured with contemptuous
bitterness for the ringleaders, and relieved with easy banter for the weaker
but less knavish followers, it seemed to me that one might possibly get
command over this wild herd, and bring them into training, at least. All I
could now do was to walk up to Blanche— Mademoiselle de Melcy, a
young baronne— the eldest, tallest, handsomest, and most vicious— stand
before her desk, take from under her hand her exercise-book, remount the
estrade, deliberately read the composition, which I found very stupid, and,
as deliberately, and in the face of the whole school, tear the blotted page in
two.
This action availed to draw attention and check noise. One girl alone,
quite in the background, persevered in the riot with undiminished energy. I
looked at her attentively. She had a pale face, hair like night, broad strong