CHAPTER III
"Ah me! how much I fear lest pride it be; But if that pride it be which thus inspires, Beware, ye dames! with nice discernment see Ye quench not too the sparks of nobler fires."
SHENSTONE.
By repeated observation, and by attending to the minute reports of SisterFrances, Madame de Fleury soon became acquainted with the habits andtemper of each individual in this little society. The most intelligentand the most amiable of these children was Victoire. Whence hersuperiority arose, whether her abilities were naturally more vivaciousthan those of her companions, or whether they had been more earlydeveloped by accidental excitation, we cannot pretend to determine, lestwe should involve ourselves in the intricate question respecting naturalgenius--a metaphysical point, which we shall not in this place stop todiscuss. Till the world has an accurate philosophical dictionary (a worknot to be expected in less than half a dozen centuries), this questionwill never be decided to general satisfaction. In the meantime we mayproceed with our story.
Deep was the impression made on Victoire's heart by the kindness thatMadame de Fleury showed her at the time her arm was broken; and hergratitude was expressed with all the enthusiastic fondness of childhood.Whenever she spoke or heard of Madame de Fleury her countenance becameinterested and animated in a degree that would have astonished a coolEnglish spectator. Every morning her first question to Sister Franceswas: "Will _she_ come to-day?" If Madame de Fleury was expected, thehours and the minutes were counted, and the sand in the hour-glass thatstood on the schoolroom table was frequently shaken. The moment sheappeared Victoire ran to her, and was silent; satisfied with standingclose beside her, holding her gown when unperceived, and watching, as shespoke and moved, every turn of her countenance. Delighted by these marksof sensibility, Sister Frances would have praised the child, but waswarned by Madame de Fleury to refrain from injudicious eulogiums, lestshe should teach her affectation.
"If I must not praise, you will permit me at least to love her," saidSister Frances.
Her affection for Victoire was increased by compassion: during two monthsthe poor child's arm hung in a sling, so that she could not venture toplay with her companions. At their hours of recreation she used to siton the schoolroom steps, looking down into the garden at the scene ofmerriment in which she could not partake.
For those who know how to find it, there is good in everything. SisterFrances used to take her seat on the steps, sometimes with her work andsometimes with a book; and Victoire, tired of being quite idle, listenedwith eagerness to the stories which Sister Frances read, or watched withinterest the progress of her work; soon she longed to imitate what shesaw done with so much pleasure, and begged to be taught to work and read.By degrees she learned her alphabet, and could soon, to the amazement ofher schoolfellows, read the names of all the animals in Sister Frances'picture-book. No matter how trifling the thing done, or the knowledgeacquired, a great point is gained by giving the desire for employment.Children frequently become industrious from impatience of the pains andpenalties of idleness. Count Rumford showed that he understood childishnature perfectly well when, in his House of Industry at Munich, hecompelled the young children to sit for some time idle in a gallery roundthe hall, where others a little older than themselves were busied atwork. During Victoire's state of idle convalescence she acquired thedesire to be employed, and she consequently soon became more industriousthan her neighbours. Succeeding in her first efforts, she waspraised--was pleased, and persevered till she became an example ofactivity to her companions. But Victoire, though now nearly seven yearsold, was not quite perfect. Naturally, or accidentally, she was verypassionate, and not a little self-willed.
One day being mounted, horsemanlike, with whip in hand, upon the banisterof the flight of stairs leading from the schoolroom to the garden, shecalled in a tone of triumph to her playfellows, desiring them to standout of the way, and see her slide from top to bottom. At this momentSister Frances came to the schoolroom door and forbade the feat; butVictoire, regardless of all prohibition, slid down instantly, andmoreover was going to repeat the glorious operation, when Sister Frances,catching hold of her arm, pointed to a heap of sharp stones that lay onthe ground upon the other side of the banisters.
"I am not afraid," said Victoire.
"But if you fall there, you may break your arm again."
"And if I do, I can bear it," said Victoire. "Let me go, pray let me go:I must do it."
"No; I forbid you, Victoire, to slide down again. Babet and all thelittle ones would follow your example, and perhaps break their necks."
The nun, as she spoke, attempted to compel Victoire to dismount; but shewas so much of a heroine, that she would do nothing upon compulsion.Clinging fast to the banisters, she resisted with all her might; shekicked and screamed, and screamed and kicked, but at last her feet weretaken prisoners; then grasping the railway with one hand, with the othershe brandished high the little whip.
"What!" said the mild nun, "would you strike me with that _arm_?"
The arm dropped instantly--Victoire recollected Madame de Fleury'skindness the day when the arm was broken; dismounting immediately, shethrew herself upon her knees in the midst of the crowd of youngspectators, and begged pardon of Sister Frances. For the rest of the dayshe was as gentle as a lamb; nay, some assert that the effects of hercontrition were visible during the remainder of the week.
Having thus found the secret of reducing the little rebel to obedience bytouching her on the tender point of gratitude, the nun had recourse tothis expedient in all perilous cases; but one day, when she was boastingof the infallible operation of her charm, Madame de Fleury advised her toforbear recurring to it frequently, lest she should wear out thesensibility she so much loved. In consequence of this counsel,Victoire's violence of temper was sometimes reduced by force andsometimes corrected by reason; but the principle and the feeling ofgratitude were not exhausted or weakened in the struggle. The hope ofreward operated upon her generous mind more powerfully than the fear ofpunishment; and Madame de Fleury devised rewards with as much ability assome legislators invent punishments.
Victoire's brother Maurice, who was now of an age to earn his own bread,had a strong desire to be bound apprentice to the smith who worked in thehouse where his mother lodged. This most ardent wish of his soul he hadimparted to his sister; and she consulted her benefactress, whom sheconsidered as all-powerful in this, as in every other affair.
"Your brother's wish shall be gratified," replied Madame de Fleury, "ifyou can keep your temper one month. If you are never in a passion for awhole month, I will undertake that your brother shall be bound apprenticeto his friend the smith. To your companions, to Sister Frances, andabove all to yourself, I trust, to make me a just report this day month."
Murad the Unlucky, and Other Tales Page 9