The night passed rapidly.  I was too tired even to dream; I only once awoke to hear the wind rave in furious gusts, and the rain fall in torrents, and to be sensible that Miss Miller had taken her place by my side.  When I again unclosed my eyes, a loud bell was ringing; the girls were up and dressing; day had not yet begun to dawn, and a rushlight or two burned in the room.  I too rose reluctantly; it was bitter cold, and I dressed as well as I could for shivering, and washed when there was a basin at liberty, which did not occur soon, as there was but one basin to six girls, on the stands down the middle of the room.  Again the bell rang:  all formed in file, two and two, and in that order descended the stairs and entered the cold and dimly lit schoolroom:  here prayers were read by Miss Miller; afterwards she called out —

“Form classes!”

A great tumult succeeded for some minutes, during which Miss Miller repeatedly exclaimed, “Silence!” and “Order!” When it subsided, I saw them all drawn up in four semicircles, before four chairs, placed at the four tables; all held books in their hands, and a great book, like a Bible, lay on each table, before the vacant seat.  A pause of some seconds succeeded, filled up by the low, vague hum of numbers; Miss Miller walked from class to class, hushing this indefinite sound.

A distant bell tinkled:  immediately three ladies entered the room, each walked to a table and took her seat.  Miss Miller assumed the fourth vacant chair, which was that nearest the door, and around which the smallest of the children were assembled:  to this inferior class I was called, and placed at the bottom of it.

Business now began, the day’s Collect was repeated, then certain texts of Scripture were said, and to these succeeded a protracted reading of chapters in the Bible, which lasted an hour.  By the time that exercise was terminated, day had fully dawned.  The indefatigable bell now sounded for the fourth time:  the classes were marshalled and marched into another room to breakfast:  how glad I was to behold a prospect of getting something to eat!  I was now nearly sick from inanition, having taken so little the day before.

The refectory was a great, low-ceiled, gloomy room; on two long tables smoked basins of something hot, which, however, to my dismay, sent forth an odour far from inviting.  I saw a universal manifestation of discontent when the fumes of the repast met the nostrils of those destined to swallow it; from the van of the procession, the tall girls of the first class, rose the whispered words —

“Disgusting!  The porridge is burnt again!”

“Silence!” ejaculated a voice; not that of Miss Miller, but one of the upper teachers, a little and dark personage, smartly dressed, but of somewhat morose aspect, who installed herself at the top of one table, while a more buxom lady presided at the other.  I looked in vain for her I had first seen the night before; she was not visible:  Miss Miller occupied the foot of the table where I sat, and a strange, foreign-looking, elderly lady, the French teacher, as I afterwards found, took the corresponding seat at the other board.  A long grace was said and a hymn sung; then a servant brought in some tea for the teachers, and the meal began.