The first picture is a full length of Aurelia Koslow， a Germanfr？ulein， or rather a half-breed between German and Russian.Sheis eighteen years of age， and has been sent to Brussels to finish her education； she is of middle size， stiffly made， body long， legs short， bust much developed but not compactly moulded， waist disproportionately compressed by an inhumanly braced corset， dress carefully arranged， large feet tortured into small bottines， head small， hair smoothed， braided， oiled， and gummed to perfection； very low forehead， very diminutive and vindictive grey eyes， somewhat Tartar features， rather flat nose， rather high- cheek bones， yet the ensemble not positively ugly； tolerably good complexion.So much for person.As to mind， deplorably ignorant and ill-informed： incapable of writing or speaking correctly even German， her native tongue， a dunce in French， and her attempts at learning English a mere farce， yet she has been at school twelve years； but as she invariably gets her exercises， of every description， done by a fellow pupil， and reads her lessons off a book； concealed in her lap， it is not wonderful that her progress has been so snail-like.I do not know what Aurelia’s daily habits of life are， because I have not the opportunity of observing her at all times； but from what I see of the state of her desk， books， and papers， I should say she is slovenly and even dirty； her outward dress， as I have said， is well attended to， but in passing behind her bench， I have remarked that her neck is grey for want of washing， and her hair， so glossy with gum and grease， is not such as one feels tempted to pass the hand over， much less to run the fingers through.Aurelia’s conduct in class， at least when I am present， is something extraordinary， considered as an index of girlish innocence.The moment I enter the room， she nudges her next neighbour and indulges in a half-suppressed laugh.As I take my seat on the estrade， she fixes her eye on me； she seems resolved toattract， and， if possible， monopolize my notice： to this end she launches at me all sorts of looks， languishing， provoking， leering， laughing.As I am found quite proof against this sort of artillery— for we scorn what， unasked， is lavishly offered—she has recourse to the expedient of making noises； sometimes she sighs， sometimes groans， sometimes utters inarticulate sounds， for which language has no name.If， in walking up the schoolroom， I pass near her， she puts out her foot that it may touch mine； if I do not happen to observe the manoeuvre， and my boot comes in contact with her brodequin， she affects to fall into convulsions of suppressed laughter； if I notice the snare and avoid it， she expresses her mortification in sullen muttering， where I hear myself abused in bad French， pronounced with an intolerable Low German accent.
Not far from Mdlle Koslow sits another young lady by name Adèle Dronsart： this is a Belgian， rather low of stature， in form heavy， with broad waist， short neck and limbs， good red and white complexion， features well chiselled and regular， well-cut eyes of a clear brown colour， light brown hair， good teeth， age not much above fifteen， but as full-grown as a stout young Englishwoman of twenty.This portrait gives the idea of a somewhat dumpy but good-looking damsel， does it not？ Well， when I looked along the row of young heads， my eye generally stopped at this of Adèle’s； her gaze was ever waiting for mine， and it frequently succeeded in arresting it.She was an unnatural-looking being—so young， fresh， blooming， yet so Gorgon-like.Suspicion， sullen ill-temper were on her forehead， vicious propensities in her eye， envy and panther- like deceit about her mouth.In general she sat very still； her massive shape looked as if it could not bend much， nor did herlarge head—so broad at the base， so narrow towards the top— seem made to turn readily on her short neck.She had but two varieties of expression； the prevalent one a forbidding， dissatisfied scowl， varied sometimes by a most pernicious and perfidious smile.She was shunned by her fellow-pupils， for， bad as many of them were， few were as bad as she.
Aurelia and Adèle were in the first division of the second class；the second division was headed by a pensionnaire named Juanna Trista.This girl was of mixed Belgian and Spanish origin； her Flemish mother was dead， her Catalonian father was a merchant residing in the — Isles， where Juanna had been born and whence she was sent to Europe to be educated.I wonder that any one， looking at that girl’s head and countenance， would have received her under their roof.She had precisely the same shape of skull as Pope Alexander the Sixth； her organs of benevolence， veneration， conscientiousness， adhesiveness， were singularly small， those of self-esteem， firmness， destructiveness， combativeness， preposterously large； her head sloped up in the penthouse shape， was contracted about the forehead， and prominent behind； she had rather good， though large and marked features； her temperament was fibrous and bilious， her complexion pale and dark， hair and eyes black， form angular and rigid but proportionate， age fifteen.
