young and tall, well-dressed, brown of complexion, and restless; she does everything as though on springs, is affected by a mere trifle, and at such times speaks with great tenderness.
“But the children become attached to you, surely” my mother said to her.
“Many do,” she replied; “but at the end of the year the majority of them pay no further heed to us. When they are with the masters, they are almost ashamed of having been with a woman teacher. After two years of cares, after having loved a child so much, it makes us feel sad to part from him; but we say to ourselves, ‘Oh, I am sure of that one; he is fond of me.’ But the vacation over, he comes back to school. I run to meet him; ‘Oh, my child, my child!’ And he turns his head away.” Here the teacher interrupted herself. “But you will not do so, little one? she said, raising her humid eyes, and kissing my brother. You will not turn aside your head, will you? You will not deny your poor friend?”
MY MOTHER
Thursday, November 10th.
In the presence of your brother's teacher you failed in respect to your mother! Let this never happen again, my Enrico, never again! Your irreverent word pierced my heart like a point of steel. I thought of your mother when, years ago, she bent the whole of one night over your little bed, watching your breathing, weeping in her anguish, and with her teeth chattering with terror, because she thought that she had lost you; and I feared that she would lose her reason. And at this thought