Hubertine had taken upon herself the charge of the education of
Angelique. Moreover, she was very old-fashioned in her ideas, and
maintained that a woman knew enough if she could read well, write
correctly, and had studied thoroughly the first four rules of
arithmetic. But even for this limited instruction she had constantly to
contend with an unwillingness on the part of her pupil, who, instead of
giving her attention to her books, preferred looking out of the windows,
although the recreation was very limited, as she could see nothing but
the garden from them. In reality, Angelique cared only for reading;
notwithstanding in her dictations, chosen from some classic writer, she
never succeeded in spelling a page correctly, yet her handwriting was
exceedingly pretty, graceful, and bold, one of those irregular styles
which were quite the fashion long ago. As for other studies, of
geography and history and cyphering, she was almost completely ignorant
of them. What good would knowledge ever do her? It was really useless,
she thought. Later on, when it was time for her to be Confirmed, she
learned her Catechism word for word, and with so fervent an ardour that
she astonished everyone by the exactitude of her memory.

Notwithstanding their gentleness, during the first year the Huberts
were often discouraged. Angelique, who promised to be skilful in
embroidering, disconcerted them by sudden changes to inexplicable
idleness after days of praiseworthy application. She was capricious,
seemed to lose her strength, became greedy, would steal sugar to eat
when alone, and her cheeks were flushed and her eyes looked wearied
under their reddened lids. If reproved, she would reply with a flood of
injurious words. Some days, when they wished to try to subdue her, her
foolish pride at being interfered with would throw her into such serious
attacks that she would strike her feet and her hands together, and