She never mentioned her anxieties, however.
Madame Aubain worried about her daughter.
The sisters thought that Virginia was affectionate but delicate.
The slightest emotion enervated her.

She had to give up her piano lessons.

Her mother insisted upon regular letters from the convent.

One morning, when the postman failed to come, she grew impatient and began to pace to and fro, from her chair to the window.

It was really extraordinary! No news since four days! In order to console her mistress by her own example, Felicite said: "Why, Madame, I haven't had any news since six months!"-- "From whom ?"-- The servant replied gently: "Why--from my nephew." "Oh, yes, your nephew!" And shrugging her shoulders, Madame Aubain continued to pace the floor as if to say: "I did not think of it .-- Besides, I do not care, a cabin-boy, a pauper!--but my daughter--what a difference! just think of it!--" Felicite, although she had been reared roughly, was very indignant.