Our dortoir is a large airy room, with a row of
windows and beds on each side, divided into two by a
large archway; it contains sixteen beds, occupied mostly
by anciennes élèves. I have a window behind my bed; I
have shoved the bed forward, fitted in a chair behind,
hung up my dressing-gown, and put a few books on the
floor by my side, and call it my room. I am now sitting
there writing to you. I have just room enough to move
my right arm freely, but I am out of the way, I am
breathing fresh air, so I consider myself very well off. An
old crucifix ornamented by gilded leaves hangs at one end
of the dortoir, two little lamps are suspended from the ceiling,
an iron bedstead and a chair are appropriated to each
individual. The floor is formed of little hexagon bricks,
which in some of the rooms are so terribly polished that
I walk on them with difficulty. The dortoir is seldom
quiet; the girls sit there a good deal, and some who have
watched through the night are generally there in bed;
and how French girls do chatter! How they do go into
sudden fits of ecstasy or rage! Once at least in the
day we have a grand storm, Madame Blockel coming in
for some trouble or other, in which she and the accused
out-scream each other, and appear to be mortal enemies
for a few minutes, and the best of friends immediately
after. At twelve o'clock we receive our supply of bread
for the day, which we keep in our bedroom and take
backwards and forwards to meals. I have frequently
wished that you could see me walking gravely along the
gallery with my loaf of bread wrapped in a napkin under
my arm. The dining-room is a large hall full of round
tables, only three of which are occupied at present, as the
élèves only number thirty, instead of ninety, the usual
number. At dinner I saw them all together for the first
time; some very pretty and graceful, some very rough. I
am learning to take wine; everyone advises me to do so,
and I shall soon be able to drink my bottle a day.
