But, peaceable by nature, the lad answered only poorly to his notions.

His mother always kept him near her; she cut out cardboard for him, told him tales, entertained him with endless monologues full of melancholy gaiety and charming nonsense.

In her life's isolation she centered on the child's head all her shattered, broken little vanities.

She dreamed of high station; she already saw him, tall, handsome, clever, settled as an engineer or in the law.

She taught him to read, and even, on an old piano, she had taught him two or three little songs.