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child matched that of the mother。 A child is a diplomatist； only to be
mastered； like the diplomatists of the great world； through his
passions！ Happily； it takes little to make these cherubs laugh； the
fall of a brush； a piece of soap slipping from the hand； and what
merry shouts！ And if our triumphs are dearly bought； still triumphs
they are； though hidden from mortal eye。 Even the father knows nothing
of it all。 None but God and His angelsand perhaps youcan fathom
the glances of satisfaction which Mary and I exchange when the little
creatures' toilet is at last concluded； and they stand； spotless and
shining； amid a chaos of soap； sponges； combs； basins； blotting…paper；
flannel； and all the nameless litter of a true English 〃nursery。〃
For I am so far a convert as to admit that English women have a talent
for this department。 True； they look upon the child only from the
point of view of material well…being； but where this is concerned；
their arrangements are admirable。 My children must always be bare…
legged and wear woollen socks。 There shall be no swaddling nor
bandages； on the other hand； they shall never be left alone。 The
helplessness of the French infant in its swaddling…bands means the
liberty of the nursethat is the whole explanation。 A mother； who is
really a mother； is never free。
There is my answer to your question why I do not write。 Besides the
management of the estate； I have the upbringing of two children on my
hands。
The art of motherhood involves much silent； unobtrusive self…denial；
an hourly devotion which finds no detail too minute。 The soup warming
before the fire must be watched。 Am I the kind of woman； do you
suppose； to shirk such cares？ The humblest task may earn a rich
harvest of affection。 How pretty is a child's laugh when he finds the
food to his liking！ Armand has a way of nodding his head when he is
pleased that is worth a lifetime of adoration。 How could I leave to
any one else the privilege and delight； as well as the responsibility；
of blowing on the spoonful of soup which is too hot for my little
Nais； my nursling of seven months ago； who still remembers my breast？
When a nurse has allowed a child to burn its tongue and lips with
scalding food； she tells the mother； who hurries up to see what is
wrong； that the child cried from hunger。 How could a mother sleep in
peace with the thought that a breath； less pure than her own； has
cooled her child's foodthe mother whom Nature has made the direct
vehicle of food to infant lips。 To mince a chop for Nais； who has just
cut her last teeth； and mix the meat； cooked to a turn； with potatoes；
is a work of patience； and there are times； indeed； when none but a
mother could succeed in making an impatient child go through with its
meal。
No number of servants； then； and no English nurse can dispense a
mother from taking the field in person in that daily contest； where
gentleness alone should grapple with the little griefs and pains of
childhood。 Louise； the care of these innocent darlings is a work to
engage the whole soul。 To whose hand and eyes； but one's own； intrust
the task of feeding； dressing； and putting to bed？ Broadly speaking； a
crying child is the unanswerable condemnation of mother or nurse；
except when the cry is the outcome of natural pain。 Now that I have
two to look after （and a third on the road）； they occupy all my
thoughts。 Even you； whom I love so dearly； have become a memory to me。
My own dressing is not always completed by two o'clock。 I have no
faith in mothers whose rooms are in apple…pie order； and who
themselves might have stepped out of a bandbox。 Yesterday was one of
those lovely days of early April； and I wanted to take my children for
a walk； while I was still ablefor the warning bell is in my ears。
Such an expedition is quite an epic to a mother！ One dreams of it the
night before！ Armand was for the first time to put on a little black
velvet jacket； a new collar which I had worked； a Scotch cap with the
Stuart colors and cock's feathers； Nais was to be in white and pink；
with one of those delicious little baby caps； for she is a baby still；
though she will lose that pretty title on the arrival of the impatient
youngster； whom I call my beggar； for he will have the portion of a
younger son。 （You see； Louise； the child has already appeared to me in
a vision； so I know it is a boy。）
Well； caps； collars； jackets； socks； dainty little shoes； pink
garters； the muslin frock with silk embroidery；all was laid out on
my bed。 Then the little brown heads had to be brushed； twittering
merrily all the time like birds； answering each other's call。 Armand's
hair is in curls； while Nais' is brought forward softly on the
forehead as a border to the pink…and…white cap。 Then the shoes are
buckled； and when the little bare legs and well…shod feet have trotted
off to the nursery； while two shining faces （/clean/； Mary calls them）
and eyes ablaze with life petition me to start； my heart beats fast。
To look on the children whom one's own hand has arrayed； the pure skin
brightly veined with blue； that one has bathed； laved； and sponged and
decked with gay colors of silk or velvetwhy； there is no poem comes
near to it！ With what eager； covetous longing one calls them back for
one more kiss on those white necks； which； in their simple collars；
the loveliest woman cannot rival。 Even the coarsest lithograph of such
a scene makes a mother pause； and I feast my eyes daily on the living
picture！
Once out of doors； triumphant in the result of my labors； while I was
admiring the princely air with which little Armand helped baby to
totter along the path you know； I saw a carriage coming； and tried to
get them out of the way。 The children tumbled into a dirty puddle； and
lo！ my works of art are ruined！ We had to take them back and change
their things。 I took the little one in my arms； never thinking of my
own dress； which was ruined； while Mary seized Armand； and the
cavalcade re…entered。 With a crying baby and a soaked child； what mind
has a mother left for herself？
Dinner time arrives； and as a rule I have done nothing。 Now comes the
problem which faces me twice every dayhow to suffice in my own
person for two children； put on their bibs； turn up their sleeves； and
get them to eat。 In the midst of these ever…recurring cares； joys； and
catastrophes； the only person neglected in the house is myself。 If the
children have been naughty； often I don't get rid of my curl…papers
all day。 Their tempers rule my toilet。 As the price of a few minutes
in which I write you these half…dozen pages； I have had to let them
cut pictures out of my novels； build castles with books； chessmen； or
mother…of…pearl counters； and give Nais my silks and wools to arrange
in her own fashion； which； I assure you； is so complicated； that she
is entirely absorbed in it； and has not uttered a word。
Yet I have nothing to complain of。 My children are both strong and
independent； they amuse themselves more easily then you would think。
They find delight in everything； a guarded liberty is worth many toys。
A few pebblespink； yellow； purple； and black； small shells； the
myste