And Madame Bastien found a thousand reasons to excuse and console him.
So on this occasion the young mother fully expected to see Frederick soon abandon his work. What was her astonishment, consequently, to see him for the first time write on and on with increasing interest and eagerness.
In this return to former habits Madame Bastien fancied she could detect the first sign of the end of this critical period in the life of her son. Doubtless his mind was beginning to emerge from the sort of haze which had so long obscured it, and, eager to satisfy herself of the fact, Madame Bastien rose, and noiselessly approaching her son on tiptoe, she placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned over to read what he had written.
In his surprise the youth gave a violent start, then, hastily closing his exercise book, turned an impatient, almost angry face, toward his mother and exclaimed:
"You had no right to do that, mother."
Then reopening his book, he tore out the pages he had just written, crumpled them up in his hands, and threw them into the fire that was blazing on the hearth, where they were soon burnt to ashes.
Madame Bastien, overwhelmed with astonishment, stood for a moment speechless and motionless; then, comparing this rudeness on the part of her son with the delightful camaraderie which had formerly existed between them, she burst into tears.
It was the first time her son had ever wounded her feelings. Seeing his mother's tears, Frederick, in an agony of remorse, threw his arms around his mother's neck and covered her face with tears and kisses, exclaiming in a voice broken by sobs:
"Oh, forgive me, mother, forgive me!"
On hearing this repentant cry, Madame Bastien reproached herself for her tears. She even reproached herself for the painful impression the incident had made upon her, for was it not due to Frederick's unfortunate condition? so, covering her son's face with passionate kisses, she, in her turn, implored his forgiveness.