tand it. It
would be quite impossible for me to tell you what I suffered for
nearly two years. All my thoughts and actions, even the simplest,
were a source of trouble and anguish to me; I had no peace till I
had told Marie everything, and this was most painful, since I
imagined I was obliged to tell absolutely all my thoughts, even
the most extravagant. As soon as I had unburdened myself I felt a
momentary peace, but it passed like a flash, and my martyrdom
began again. Many an occasion for patience did I provide for my
dear sister.

That year we spent a fortnight of our holidays at the sea-side. My
aunt, who always showed us such motherly care, treated us to all
possible pleasures--donkey rides, shrimping, and the rest. She
even spoiled us in the matter of clothes. I remember one day she
gave me some pale blue ribbon; although I was twelve and a half, I
was still such a child that I quite enjoyed tying it in my hair.
But this childish pleasure seemed sinful to me, and I had so many
scruples that I had to go to Confession, even at Trouville.

While I was there I had an experience which did me good. My cousin
Marie often suffered from sick headaches. On these occasions my
aunt used to fondle her and coax her with the most endearing
names, but the only response was continual tears and the unceasing
cry: "My head aches!" I had a headache nearly every day, though I
did not say so; but one evening I thought I would imitate Marie.
So I sat down in an armchair in a corner of the room, and set to
work to cry. My aunt, as well as my cousin Jeanne, to whom I was
very devoted, hastened to me to know what was the matter. I
answered like Marie: "My head aches." It would seem that
complaining was not in my line; no one would believe that a
headache was the reason of my tears. Instead of petting me as
usual, my aunt spoke to me seriously. Even Jeanne reproached me,
very kindly it is true, and was grieved at my want of simplicity
and trust in my aunt. She thought I had a big scruple, and was not
giving the real reason of my tears. At last, getting nothing for
my pains, I made up my mind not to imitate other people any more.
I thought of the fable of the ass and the little dog; I was the
ass, who, seeing that the little dog got all the petting, put his
clumsy hoof on the table to try and secure his share. If I did not
have a beating like the poor beast, at any rate I got what I
deserved--a severe lesson, which cured me once for all