Seven years passed. I had lived during that time the life of my
foster-brothers, flitting everywhere with them over the flowery grass like
the veritable lark that I was. Two or three times during that period my
parents came to see me, but without company, quite alone. They brought me
a lot of beautiful things; but really I was afraid of them, particularly
of my mother, who was so beautiful and wore a grand air full of dignity
and self-regard. She would kiss me, but in a way very different from
mother Catharine's way--squarely on the forehead, a kiss that seemed made
of ice.

One fine day she arrived at the cottage with a tall, slender lady who wore
blue spectacles on a singularly long nose. She frightened me, especially
when my mother told me that this was my governess, and that I must return
to the château with her and live there to learn a host of fine things of
which even the names were to me unknown; for I had never seen a book
except my picture books.

I uttered piercing cries; but my mother, without paying any attention to
my screams, lifted me cleverly, planted two spanks behind, and passed me
to the hands of Mme. Levicq--that was the name of my governess. The next
day my mother left me and I repeated my disturbance, crying, stamping my
feet, and calling to mother Catharine and Bastien. (To tell the truth,
Jerome and Matthieu were two big lubbers [rougeots] very peevish and
coarse-mannered, which I could not endure.) Madame put a book into my
hands and wished to have me repeat after her; I threw the book at her
head. Then, rightly enough, in despair she placed me where I could see the
cottage in the midst of the garden and told me that when the lesson was
ended I might go and see my mother Catharine and play with my brothers. I
promptly consented, and that is how I learned to read.