My mother, attracted by the noise I was making, half opened the door. Mlle. De Brabender explained to her very gravely that she was showing me M. Meydieu’s method. My mother expostulated with me, but I would not listen to anything, as I was nearly beside myself with laughter. She then took Mlle. De Brabender away and left me alone, for she feared that I would finish with hysterics. When once I was by myself, I began to calm down. I closed my eyes and thought of my convent again. The “te ... de ... de” got mixed up in my enervated brain with the “Our Father,” which I used to have to repeat some days fifteen or twenty times as a punishment. Finally, I came to myself again, got up, and, after bathing my face in cold water, went to my mother, whom I found playing whist with my governess and godfather. I kissed Mlle. De Brabender, and she returned my kiss with such indulgent kindness that I felt quite embarrassed by it. Ten days passed by and I did none of M. Meydieu’s exercises, except the “te ... de ... de” at the piano. My mother came and woke me every morning for this, and it drove me wild. My godfather made me learn “Aricie,” but I understood nothing of what he told me about the verses. He considered, and explained to me, that poetry must be said with an intonation, and that the value must only be put on the rhyme. His theories were boring to listen to and impossible to execute. Then I could not understand _Aricie’s_ character, for it did not seem to me that she loved _Hippolyte_ at all, and she appeared to me to be a scheming flirt. My godfather explained to me that in olden times this was the way people loved each other, and when I remarked that _Phèdre_ appeared to love in a better way than that, he took me by the chin, and said: “Just look at this naughty child. She is pretending not to understand, and would like us to explain to her....” This was simply idiotic. I did not understand, and had not asked anything, but this man had a _bourgeois_ mind, and was sly and lewd. He did not like me because I was thin, but he was interested in me because I was going to be an actress. That word evoked for him the weak side of our art. He did not see the beauty, the nobleness of it, nor yet its beneficial power. I could not fathom all this at that time, but I did not feel at ease with this man, whom I had seen from my childhood, and who was almost like a father to me. I did not want to continue learning “Aricie.” In the first place, I could not talk about it with my governess, as she would not discuss the piece at all. I then learned the “Ecole des Femmes,” and Mlle. De Brabender explained _Agnes_ to me. The dear, good lady did not see much in it, for the whole story appeared to her of childlike simplicity, and when I said the lines: “He has taken from me, he has taken from me the ribbon you gave me,” she smiled in all confidence when Meydieu and my godfather laughed heartily.