merous little acts that placed him in positions beneath the
dignity of an author's standing were an incessant source of annoyance
to him.

She did not remain with him long, but he tried to perform his filial
duties and make her comfortable, as various letters show. One of these
reads as follows:

"My dear Mother,--It is very difficult for me to enter into the
engagement you ask of me, and to do so without reflection would
entail consequences most serious both for you and for myself. The
money necessary for my existence is, as it were, wrung from what
should go to pay my debts, and hard work it is to get it. The sort
of life I lead is suitable for no one; it wears out relations and
friends; all fly from my dreary house. My affairs will become more
and more difficult to manage, not to say impossible. The failure
of my play, as regards money, still further complicates my
situation. I find it impossible to work in the midst of all the
little storms raised up in a household where the members do not
live in harmony. My work has become feeble during the last year,
as any one can see. I am in doubt what to do. But I must come to
some determination within a few days. When my furniture has been
sold, and when I have disposed of 'Les Jardies,' I shall not have
much left. And I shall find myself alone in the world with nothing
but my pen, and an attic. In such a situation shall I be able to
do more for you than I am doing at this moment? I shall have to
live from hand to mouth by writing articles which I can no longer
write with the agility of youth which is no more. The world, and
even relations, mistake me; I am engrossed by my work, and they
think I am absorbed in myself. I am not blind to the fact, that up
to the present moment, working as I work, I have not succeeded in
paying my debts, nor in supporting myself. No future will save me.
I must do something else, look out for some other position. And it
is at a time like this that you ask me to enter into an
engagement! Two years ago I should have done so, and have deceived
myself. Now all I can say is, come to me and share my crust. You
were in a tolerable position; I had a domestic whose devotion
spared you all the worry of housekeeping; you were not called on
to enter into every detail, you were quiet and peaceful. You
wished me to count for something in your life, when it was
imperative for you to forget my