My father was naturally mild and apathetic. Those qualities became more marked each day, as his wealth and comfort increased. My mother, being more active and younger, enjoyed unlimited freedom of action, and joyfully made the most of the advantages of wealth and the pleasures of society. She was kind-hearted, sincere and full of amiable qualities, but she was naturally frivolous, and her beauty, which was treated with marvellous respect by the years as they passed, prolonged her youth at the expense of my education. She loved me dearly, beyond question, but without prudence or discernment. Proud of my youthful charms and of the trivial talents which she had caused me to acquire, she thought of nothing but taking me about and exhibiting me; she took a delicious but perilous pride in covering me constantly with new jewels, and in appearing with me at parties. I recall those days with pain and yet with pleasure; since then, I have reflected sadly on the futile employment of my early years, and yet I sigh for those days of careless happiness which should never have ended or never have begun. I fancy that I can still see my mother with her plump, graceful figure, her white hands, her black eyes, her coquettish smile, and withal so kind that you could see at the first glance that she had never known anxiety or vexation, and that she was incapable of imposing the slightest restraint upon others, even with kindly intentions. Ah! yes, I remember her well! I remember our long mornings devoted to planning and preparing our ball dresses, our afternoons employed in making our toilets with such painstaking care that hardly an hour remained to show ourselves on the promenade. I see my mother, with her satin dresses, her furs, her long white feathers, and the whole fluffy mass of lace and ribbons. After finishing her toilet, she would forget herself a moment to look after me. It was a great deal of a bore to unlace my black satin boots in order to smooth out a wrinkle on the instep or to try on twenty pairs of gloves before finding one of a shade sufficiently delicate for her taste. Those gloves fitted so tight that I often tore them after taking the greatest pains about putting them on; then I must begin anew, and we would have heaps of débris in front of us before we had finally selected those that I was to wear an hour, and then leave to my maid. However, I had become so accustomed from childhood to regard these trifling details as the most important occupations of a woman's life, that I submitted patiently. We would set out at last, and at the rustling of our silk gowns and the perfume exhaled by our handkerchiefs, people would turn to look after us. I was accustomed to hearing our names mentioned as we passed, by all sorts and conditions of men, and to see them glance curiously at my impassive face. This mixture of coldness and innocent effrontery constitutes what is called good breeding in a young woman.