"Come, come, cheer up, you shall be cured as soon as possible. You are a good and a brave boy;" and Jacques bowed with an air of increased embarrassment.
They went to the surgeon's, who was not acquainted with Jacques's whole history, because he would not allow his mother to relate it at their former visit. As soon as he learned it, he took the most lively interest in the courageous child, and his attentions were soon efficacious. At the end of a fortnight, the swelling began to decrease. They were obliged to prevent Jacques from working so soon as he wished, but they gave him hope that it would not be long before he was again in a condition to handle the plane; and in the mean time he wanted for nothing. Louis, on his return home, said to his mother, "Mamma, tie a thread round my tooth," and he immediately pulled it out himself, having learned by the example of the pensioner, as well as by that of Jacques, never to cry out, "Oh! oh! oh!" for so slight a cause as a little cold, or a prick of a pin.
HELEN;
OR THE FAILURE.
"Take care, Helen!" said Madame d'Aubigny, to her daughter, "when you are going one way, you are looking another; in this manner you will never go straight anywhere."
And such was exactly the case. Whether in the street, or on the promenade or even when running in the fields, Helen seldom thought of looking before her, or watching her steps; her attention was constantly directed to one side or the other, to see if any one noticed her; and when she fancied herself observed, she gave herself all sorts of airs and graces. Often when at the Tuileries, she was so completely absorbed in endeavouring to give a graceful turn to her head, or in casting down her eyes, when she considered it suitable to do so, or in looking at the leaves with an air of abstraction, according as one or other of these different movements appeared to her best calculated to attract attention, that she struck against a tree, or against some one coming in an opposite direction. Often when wishing to jump gracefully over a pool of water, she fell into the middle of it, and was covered with mud. In fine, Helen did nothing in a simple manner, like other people, and merely for having the thing done; she neither walked, nor ate, nor drank, for the sake of walking, or eating, or drinking, but in order that people might see the grace she was able to throw into all her movements; and had there been any one to observe her while sleeping, she would certainly have contrived the means of sleeping gracefully.
She little thought how much all these efforts tended to defeat the very object which she had in view, and yet she might easily have perceived, that if, while doing one thing, her thoughts were on another, it was quite impossible that she should do the thing well, and consequently impossible that she should be favourably noticed. If, when she saw some one entering the room, in whose eyes she wished to appear agreeable, she began to talk with greater animation to the person near her; if she threw more vivacity into her gestures, and made her gaiety more conspicuous, still, as she was not really amused, but only supposed that she had the appearance of being so, her laugh was not hearty, her gestures were unnatural, and her gaiety so obviously forced, that no one could possibly fancy that she was really gay, while the pretence of being so occupied her thoughts. In like manner, no one who saw her bestowing alms would have supposed that she was really kind-hearted, and yet Helen gave when she was not observed, and she gave with good will; but if there happened to be any one near to notice her, it was no longer of the poor that she thought, but of the pleasure of being seen bestowing alms. Her pity then assumed an appearance of exaggeration and eagerness, which made it quite apparent that her object was to display it. Her eyes indeed expressed compassion, but instead of being fixed upon the beggar, they were turned towards the persons present, so that it might have been said that it was they, and not the beggar, who had caused her emotion.
Madame d'Aubigny had continually reprimanded her daughter for this tendency, which she had displayed from her childhood, and had succeeded in correcting the most absurd and gross of her affectations; and Helen herself, as she advanced in age, became more skilful in detecting such as were likely to appear too glaring; but as her affectations also increased in number, she merely took a little more pains to conceal them, without being able to persuade herself that, while she had them at all, they could not possibly be concealed. "My child," her mother would sometimes say to her, "there is but one way of obtaining praise, and that is by acting well; and as there is nothing commendable in an action done for the sake of commendation, it is impossible that such actions should secure you praise: rest assured, therefore, that to make praise and reputation your aim, is a certain way of never obtaining it." Helen felt, to some extent, the truth of these remarks, and she promised herself to conceal her vanity with greater care, but it returned at the first opportunity; and besides, where is the girl who fully believes all her mother says to her?