What has come to you, my dear? After a silence of two years, surely
Renee has a right to feel anxious about Louise. So this is love! It
brushes aside and scatters to the winds a friendship such as ours! You
must admit that, devoted as I am to my children--more even perhaps than
you to your Gaston--a mother's love has something expansive about it
which does not allow it to steal from other affections, or interfere
with the claims of friendship. I miss your letters, I long for a sight
of your dear, sweet face. Oh! Louise, my heart has only conjecture to
feed upon!
As regards ourselves, I will try and tell you everything as briefly as
possible.
On reading your last letter but one, I find some stinging comments on
our political situation. You mocked at us for keeping the post in the
Audit Department, which, as well as the title of Count, Louis owed to
the favor of Charles X. But I should like to know, please, how it would
be possible out of an income of forty thousand livres, thirty thousand
of which go with the entail, to give a suitable start in life to
Athenais and my poor little beggar Rene. Was it not a duty to live on
our salary and prudently allow the income of the estate to accumulate?
In this way we shall, in twenty years, have put together about six
hundred thousand francs, which will provide portions for my daughter and
for Rene, whom I destine for the navy. The poor little chap will have an
income of ten thousand livres, and perhaps we may contrive to leave him
in cash enough to bring his portion up to the amount of his sister's.
When he is Captain, my beggar will be able to make a wealthy marriage,
and take a position in society as good as his elder brother's.
These considerations of prudence determined the acceptance in our family
of the new order of things. The new dynasty, as was natural, raised
Louis to the Peerage and made him a grand officer of the Legion of
Honor. The oath once taken, l'Estorade could not be half-hearted in his
services, and he has since then made himself very useful in the Chamber.
The position he has now attained is one in which he can rest upon his
oars till the end of his days. He has a good deal of adroitness in
business matters; and though he can hardly be called an orator, speaks
pleasantly and fluently, which is all that is necessary in politics.
His shrewdness and the extent of his information in all matters of
government and administration are fully appreciated, and all parties
consider him indispensable. I may tell you that he was recently offered
an embassy, but I would not let him accept it. I am tied to Paris by the
education of Armand and Athenais--who are now respectively thirteen and
nearly eleven--and I don't intend leaving till little Rene has completed
his, which is just beginning.
We could not have remained faithful to the elder branch of the dynasty
and returned to our country life without allowing the education and
prospects of the three children to suffer. A mother, my sweet, is hardly
called on to be a Decius, especially at a time when the type is rare. In
fifteen years from now, l'Estorade will be able to retire to La Crampade
on a good pension, having found a place as referendary for Armand in the
Audit Department.
As for Rene, the navy will doubtless make a diplomatist of him.
The little rogue, at seven years old, has all the cunning of an old
Cardinal.
Oh! Louise, I am indeed a happy mother. My children are an endless
source of joy to me.
Senza brama sicura ricchezza.
Armand is a day scholar at Henry IV.'s school. I made up my mind he
should have a public-school training, yet could not reconcile myself to
the thought of parting with him; so I compromised, as the Duc d'Orleans
did before he became--or in order that he might become--Louis Philippe.
Every morning Lucas, the old servant whom you will remember, takes
Armand to school in time for the first lesson, and brings him home again
at half-past four. In the house we have a private tutor, an admirable
scholar, who helps Armand with his work in the evenings, and calls him
in the morning at the school hour. Lucas takes him some lunch during the
play hour at midday. In this way I am with my boy at dinner and until he
goes to bed at night, and I see him off in the morning.
Armand is the same charming little fellow, full of feeling and unselfish
impulse, whom you loved; and his tutor is quite pleased with him. I
still have Nais and the baby--two restless little mortals--but I am
quite as much a child as they are. I could not bring myself to lose the
darlings' sweet caresses. I could not live without the feeling that
at any moment I can fly to Armand's bedside and watch his slumbers or
snatch a kiss.
Yet home education is not without its drawbacks, to which I am fully
alive. Society, like nature, is a jealous power, and will have not her
rights encroached on, or her system set at naught. Thus, children who
are brought up at home are exposed too early to the fire of the world;
they see its passions and become at home with its subterfuges. The finer
distinctions, which regulate the conduct of matured men and women, elude
their perceptions, and they take feeling and passion for their guide
instead of subordinating those to the code of society; whilst the gay
trappings and tinsel which attract so much of the world's favor blind
them to the importance of the more sober virtues. A child of fifteen
with the assurance of a man of the world is a thing against all nature;
at twenty-five he will be prematurely old, and his precocious knowledge
only unfits him for the genuine study on which all solid ability must
rest. Life in society is one long comedy, and those who take part in it,
like other actors, reflect back impressions which never penetrate
below the surface. A mother, therefore, who wishes not to part from her
children, must resolutely determine that they shall not enter the gay
world; she must have courage to resist their inclinations, as well
as her own, and keep them in the background. Cornelia had to keep her
jewels under lock and key. Shall I do less for the children who are all
the world to me?
Now that I am thirty, the heat of the day is over, the hardest bit of
the road lies behind me. In a few years I shall be an old woman, and the
sense of duty done is an immense encouragement. It would almost seem as
though my trio can read my thoughts and shape themselves accordingly. A
mysterious bond of sympathy unites me to these children who have never
left my side. If they knew the blank in my life which they have to fill,
they could not be more lavish of the solace they bring.
Armand, who was dull and dreamy during his first three years at school,
and caused me some uneasiness, has made a sudden start. Doubtless
he realized, in a way most children never do, the aim of all this
preparatory work, which is to sharpen the intelligence, to get them into
habits of application and accustom them to that fundamental principle of
all society--obedience. My dear, a few days ago I had the proud joy of
seeing Armand crowned at the great interscholastic competition in
the crowded Sorbonne, when your godson received the first prize for
translation. At the school distribution he got two first prizes--one for
verse, and one for an essay. I went quite white when his name was called
out, and longed to shout aloud, "I am his mother!" Little Nais squeezed
my hand till it hurt, if at such a moment it were possible to feel pain.
Ah! Louise, a day like this might outweigh many a dream of love!
His brother's triumphs have spurred on little Rene, who wants to go to
school too. Sometimes the three children make such a racket, shouting
and rushing about the house, that I wonder how my head stands it. I am
always with them; no one else, not even Mary, is allowed to take care
of my children. But the calling of a mother, if taxing, has so many
compensating joys! To see a child leave its play and run to hug one, out
of the fulness of its heart, what could be sweeter?
Then it is only in being constantly with them that one can study their
characters. It is the duty of a mother, and one which she can depute to
no hired teacher, to decipher the tastes, temper, and natural aptitudes
of her children from their infancy. All home-bred children are
distinguished by ease of manner and tact, two acquired qualities which
may go far to supply the lack of natural ability, whereas no natural
ability can atone for the loss of this early training. I have already
learned to discriminate this difference of tone in the men whom I meet
in society, and to trace the hand of a woman in the formation of a
young man's manners. How could any woman defraud her children of such a
possession? You see what rewards attend the performance of my tasks!
Armand, I feel certain, will make an admirable judge, the most upright
of public servants, the most devoted of deputies. And where would you
find a sailor bolder, more adventurous, more astute than my Rene will be
a few years hence? The little rascal has already an iron will, whatever
he wants he manages to get; he will try a thousand circuitous ways to
reach his end, and if not successful then, will devise a thousand and
first. Where dear Armand quietly resigns himself and tries to get at the
reason of things, Rene will storm, and strive, and puzzle, chattering
all the time, till at last he finds some chink in the obstacle; if there
is room for the blade of a knife to pass, his little carriage will ride
through in triumph.
And Nais? Nais is so completely a second self that I can hardly realize
her as distinct from my own flesh and blood. What a darling she is, and
how I love to make a little lady of her, to dress her curly hair, tender
thoughts mingling the while with every touch! I must have her happy; I
shall only give her to the man who loves her and whom she loves.
But, Heavens! when I let her put on her little ornaments, or pass a
cherry-colored ribbon through her hair, or fasten the shoes on her tiny
feet, a sickening thought comes over me. How can one order the destiny
of a girl? Who can say that she will not love a scoundrel or some man
who is indifferent to her? Tears often spring to my eyes as I watch her.
This lovely creature, this flower, this rosebud which has blossomed in
one's heart, to be handed over to a man who will tear it from the stem
and leave it bare! Louise, it is you--you, who in two years have not
written three words to tell me of your welfare--it is you who have
recalled to my mind the terrible possibilities of marriage, so full of
anguish for a mother wrapped up, as I am, in her child. Farewell now,
for in truth you don't deserve my friendship, and I hardly know how to
write. Oh! answer me, dear Louise.