A few days after this occurrence, Louis received a letter from his mother, written at the end of her first day's journey.
"Bear in mind, above all things, my dear son," she said in this letter, "never to swerve from the respect you owe your aunt. You may sometimes think she demands a greater degree of submission than she has a right to exact; yet you must submit to this, in order to please her; for it is your duty to make her satisfied with you.
"Should you sometimes think she opposes you unreasonably, or from ill-humour, the best way of showing yourself a man is by not allowing yourself to be irritated by this conduct; for it is little children only that people are anxious not to oppose unreasonably, for fear of spoiling their tempers; but when they become men, they must in their turn conform to the tempers of others.
"In a short time, my dear son, you will have to conduct yourself properly, not only towards those who behave well to you, but towards all with whom you have any intercourse. So long as you are unable to fulfil your duty, unless you have to deal with just and reasonable persons, so long will you be unfit to dispense with the guidance of your father and mother; for you will meet with no one else in the world who, for the sake of sparing you the commission of a fault, will be careful to treat you on all occasions with kindness and justice."
The day that Louis received this letter he was more assiduous in his attentions to his aunt; he took care not to leave the door open when she was in the draught, and he prevented Barogo from eating up the food prepared for Robinet—an occurrence which the evening before had occasioned great offence. Left to himself, Louis was naturally disposed to be obliging; but he wanted that self-control which can alone secure us against the caprices of others. He was consequently never so much at the mercy of his aunt's whims as when he allowed her to put him in a passion, in spite of his good resolutions. Now, as her caprices became every day more frequent, in proportion to the effect they produced on him, and as in proportion to their frequency his resolution became every day weaker, his desire of maintaining peace soon gave way to a complete abandonment of himself to all those emotions which naturally excite discord. The counsels of his mother now produced only a feeling of irritation, for he had persuaded himself that what she required of him was impossible. His home became insupportable, and he was always anxious to escape from it; nor could his mind rest with pleasure on anything but the idea of the enjoyment which he promised himself in going to spend the three holidays of Whitsuntide with Madame Lebeau in the country.
This excursion had been arranged before the departure of Madame Delong. Louis had often mentioned it, and considered it as a settled affair, but Madame Ballier took it into her head, as the best possible means of annoying him, to oblige him to ask specially for her permission.
It had been arranged that on the Saturday preceding Whitsunday Louis was to dine with M. Lebeau, in order to be ready to set out with the family for the country immediately afterwards.
On the day in question, the moment before he returned home to dress for dinner, and make up his little package of what was to be taken with him, Madame Ballier left the house, carrying with her the keys of the wardrobe. Louis, greatly annoyed at not finding the keys when he came in, asked Marianne for them, and then inquired for his aunt. Marianne had not seen her go out, and knew not where to find her. They separated in search of her. Louis ran out, boiling with impatience; and, perceiving her seated on one of the benches in the promenade, he could scarcely restrain himself sufficiently to avoid demanding his keys before he came up to her, or ask for them, when he did arrive, in terms of proper politeness. Madame Ballier quietly inquired what he wanted them for?
"I want to dress, aunt—I am in a great hurry—pray give them to me immediately;"—and he held out a hand tremulous with impatience.
"To dress! you never dress but on Sundays," replied Madame Ballier with the utmost coolness.