Born at Warsaw, on the 7th of November, 1867, I was the last of five children, but my oldest sister died at the early age of fourteen, and we were left, three sisters and a brother. Cruelly struck by the loss of her daughter and worn away by a grave illness, my mother died at forty-two, leaving her husband in the deepest sorrow with his children. I was then only nine years old, and my eldest brother was hardly thirteen. This catastrophe was the first great sorrow of my life and threw me into a profound depression. My mother had an exceptional personality. With all her intellectuality she had a big heart and a very high sense of duty. And, though possessing infinite indulgence and good nature, she still held in the family a remarkable moral authority. She had an ardent piety (my parents were both Catholics), but she was never intolerant; differences in religious belief did not trouble her; she was equally kind to any one not sharing her opinions. Her influence over me was extraordinary, for in me the natural love of the little girl for her mother was united with a passionate admiration. Very much affected by the death of my mother, my father devoted himself entirely to his work and to the care of our education. His professional obligations were heavy and left him little leisure time. For many years we all felt weighing on us the loss of the one who had been the soul of the house. We all started our studies very young. I was only six years old, and, because I was the youngest and smallest in the class, was frequently brought forward to recite when there were visitors. This was a great trial to me, because of my timidity; I wanted always to run away and hide. My father, an excellent educator, was interested in our work and knew how to direct it, but the conditions of our education were difficult. We began our studies in private schools and finished them in those of the government. Warsaw was then under Russian domination, and one of the worst aspects of this control was the oppression exerted on the school and the child. The private schools directed by Poles were closely watched by the police and overburdened with the necessity of teaching the Russian language even to children so young that they could scarcely speak their native Polish. Nevertheless, since the teachers were nearly all of Polish nationality, they endeavored in every possible way to mitigate the difficulties resulting from the national persecution. These schools, however, could not legally give diplomas, which were obtainable only in those of the government.