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Updated: June 19, 2025
I could hear my gentle, timid Madame Guerard arguing with every one, so courageous was she always in her confidence in my future. "Well, Mademoiselle?" said M. Thierry curtly. I looked at him without speaking, and he began to get impatient.
In another section, the carpenter Tortellier, a roving agitator and militant anarchist, had already persuaded a large number of unions to declare for the general strike as the sole effective weapon for revolutionary purposes. Moreover, Guérard, Griffuelhes, and other opponents of political action were preparing the ground in the unions for an open break with the socialists.
My mother was now exhausted with so much talking, and lay back in an arm-chair. I got very much excited, and my mother asked me to go away. Mlle. de Brabender and Madame Guerard were arguing in a low voice, and I thought of the aristocratic man who had just left us. I was very angry with him, for this idea of the Conservatoire was his. Mlle. de Brabender tried to console me.
She turned away brusquely to avoid my kiss, and knocked her head against the stove. Finally Madame Guerard appeared again, and I went with her. Oh, how repentant I was, and how deeply affected. I knocked gently at the door of the room, which was hung with pale blue rep. My mother looked very white, lying in her bed. Her face was thinner, but wonderfully beautiful.
As a little child I was always clinging to the skirts of my nurse; at the convent I was always with one of my friends or one of the sisters; at home either with Mlle. de Brabender or Madame Guerard, or if they were not there in the kitchen with Marguerite.
The doctors decided that I must go to Eaux-Bonnes. I did not want to leave Paris, for I had caught the general fever of excitement. My weakness increased, though, day by day, and on July 27 I was taken away in spite of myself. Madame Guerard, my man-servant, and my maid accompanied me, and I also took my child with me.
I threw myself down on the floor, and was deaf to the knocks on my door and to Jarrett's supplications. I did not want to argue the matter, so I did not utter a word. I heard the murmur of grumbling voices, and Jarrett's words tactfully persuading the visitors to stay. I heard the rustle of paper being pushed under the door, and Madame Guerard whispering to Jarrett, who was furious.
"I wanted to finish this dress, and I have worked at it three days and nights. But look how nice your costume is!" And he spread it out with loving respect before me. "Look!" remarked Guerard, "a little spot!" "Ah, I pricked myself," answered the poor artist quickly. But I had just caught sight of a drop of blood at the corner of his lips.
My uncle, Felix Faure, was gazing at the floor in an absent-minded way; the notary had a spiteful look in his eyes, my aunt was holding forth in a very excited manner, and M. Meydieu kept shaking his head and muttering, "Perhaps yes who knows? hum hum!" Madame Guerard was very pale and sad, and she looked at me with infinite tenderness. What could this Conservatoire be?
After this final episode in my first cruise I went ashore, but I went ashore a sailor to the core, and my one idea, when I got back to Paris, was to acquire the technical information needed for my profession. To this the years 1832 and 1833 were devoted. M. Guerard, a charming fellow, universally liked and an incomparable instructor, was my mathematical teacher.
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