After that I knew nothing more; everything seemed dark; there was a noise in the distance. I could hear voices far, far away. I had managed to escape from my poor nurse, and had fallen down on the pavement in front of my aunt. I had broken my arm in two places, and injured my left kneecap. I only came to myself again a few hours later, to find that I was in a beautiful, wide bed which smelled very nice. It stood in the middle of a large room, with two lovely windows, which made me very joyful, for I could see the ceiling of the street through them. My mother, who had been sent for immediately, came to take care of me, and I saw the rest of my family, my aunts and my cousins. My poor little brain could not understand why all these people should suddenly be so fond of me, when I had passed so many days and nights only cared for by one single person. As I was weakly, and my bones small and friable, I was two years recovering from this terrible fall, and during that time was nearly always carried about. I will pass over these two years of my life, which have left me only a vague memory of being petted, and of a chronic state of torpor. One day my mother took me on her knees, and said to me: “You are a big girl now, and you must learn to read and write.” I was then seven years old, and could neither read, write, nor count, as I had been five years with the old nurse, and two years ill. “You must go to school,” continued my mother, playing with my curly hair, “like a big girl.” I did not know what all this meant, and I asked what a school was. “It’s a place where there are many little girls,” replied my mother. “Are they ill?” I asked. “Oh, no! They are quite well, as you are now, and they play together, and are very gay and happy.” I jumped about in delight, and gave free vent to my joy, but on seeing tears in my mother’s eyes, I flung myself in her arms. “But what about you, mamma?” I asked. “You will be all alone, and you won’t have any little girl.” She bent down to me and said: “God has told me that he will send me some flowers, and a little baby.” My delight was more and more boisterous. “Then I shall have a little brother?” I exclaimed, “or else a little sister? Oh, no, I don’t want that, I don’t like little sisters!” Mamma kissed me very affectionately, and then I was dressed, I remember, in a blue, corded velvet frock, of which I was very proud. Arrayed thus in all my splendor, I waited impatiently for Aunt Rosine’s carriage, which was to take us to Auteuil.