My family at that time lived in the same house as he did, on the floor above him; we were eight children, our ages ranging from one to sixteen years. We were noisy neighbours and we incommoded Metchnikoff, who was awakened every morning by the noise in our kitchen, where meat was being minced for the children. One fine day he could stand it no longer and went upstairs to ask if this nuisance could not be stopped; my father promised that he would see that it ceased. We were all seated round the tea-table when he came in, and, seeing a stranger, my sister and I hurriedly collected our lesson books, and hastened to leave the room. We did not even have time to distinguish Metchnikoff's features, but were struck by his paleness. Shortly after that incident we met him at the house of a mutual friend. He had already seen us from his window as we went off to the Lycée, and it used to amuse him to see us bravely stepping over a large pool of water which was permanent in the street. One of his pupils was a professor in our Lycée, and Elie had the opportunity of informing himself concerning our studies. Having heard that I was interested in natural science, it occurred to him to offer to give me lessons in zoology. I was delighted. He asked and obtained permission from my parents, and we eagerly set to work. Elie, being strongly attracted by me, returned to his former idea of training a girl according to his own ideas and afterwards making her his wife. He might have realised his programme of completing my education first and marrying me afterwards if he had not been prevented by the complete lack of accord between his ideas and those of my father. It was the eternal conflict of two generations, "fathers and children." My father was an excellent man, of great nobility of character, but he was a type of the old Russian patrician school and belonged to a different epoch, with different opinions and customs. This caused inevitable and frequent disagreements, and Elie decided to ask for my hand without further delay.