canvas painting

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