This person to whose care he was confined was the master of a
small boarding-school, and his wife was the kindest and most
patient of women. However, this did not prevent Wilkie from
crying and begging for his mother at first; but gradually he
forgot her. He was not unhappy, for he was petted and indulged
more than any of the other pupils, and he spent most of his time
playing on the terrace or wandering about the garden. But this
charming life could not last for ever. According to his
calculation, he was just ten years old when, one Sunday, toward
the end of October, a grave-looking, red-whiskered gentleman, clad
in solemn black with a white necktie, presented himself at the
school, and declared that he had been instructed by Wilkie's
relatives to place him in a college to continue his education.

Young Wilkie's lamentations were long and loud; but they did not
prevent M. Patterson--for that was the gentleman's name--from
taking him to the college of Louis-the-Great, where he was entered
as a boarder. As he did not study, and as he was only endowed
with a small amount of intelligence, he learned scarcely anything
during the years he remained there. Every Sunday and every fete
day, M. Patterson made his appearance at ten o'clock precisely,
took Wilkie for a walk in Paris or the environs, gave him his
breakfast and dinner at some of the best restaurants, bought
everything he expressed a desire to have, and at nine o'clock
precisely took him back to the college again. During the holidays
M. Patterson kept the boy with him, refusing him nothing in the
way of pleasure, granting all his wishes, but never losing sight
of him for a moment. And if Wilkie complained of this constant
watchfulness, M. Patterson always replied, "I must obey orders;"
and this answer invariably put an end to the discussion.