His parents always told him to get something out of her, either a
package of brown sugar, or soap, or brandy, and sometimes even money.
He brought her his clothes to mend, and she accepted the task gladly,
because it meant another visit from him.

In August, his father took him on a coasting-vessel.

It was vacation time and the arrival of the children consoled Felicite.
But Paul was capricious, and Virginia was growing too old to be
thee-and-thou'd, a fact which seemed to produce a sort of embarrassment
in their relations.

Victor went successively to Morlaix, to Dunkirk, and to Brighton;
whenever he returned from a trip he would bring her a present. The first
time it was a box of shells; the second, a coffee-cup; the third, a big
doll of ginger-bread. He was growing handsome, had a good figure, a tiny
moustache, kind eyes, and a little leather cap that sat jauntily on the
back of his head. He amused his aunt by telling her stories mingled with
nautical expressions.

One Monday, the 14th of July, 1819 (she never forgot the date), Victor
announced that he had been engaged on a merchant-vessel and that in two
days he would take the steamer at Honfleur and join his sailer, which
was going to start from Havre very soon. Perhaps he might be away two
years.

The prospect of his departure filled Felicite with despair, and in order
to bid him farewell, on Wednesday night, after Madame's dinner, she put
on her pattens and trudged the four miles that separated Pont-l'Eveque
from Honfleur.