One Never Thinks of Everything

Too bad. How, how, a young man?

He is the brother of a boarder at the same convent: he left us five leagues from here, & he did not even say goodbye to her.

Not say goodbye! That would prove nothing: in short, I do not want her to speak to anyone anymore.

But to me.

Ah, to you, to me, to us. Then I want... Well, aren't you looking elsewhere now, instead of listening to me?

Me, not at all.

Listen well.

Yes, Sir.

I want, pay attention, that when she goes out, & she will only go out on Sundays & Holidays, as well as today; I want her to always walk straight ahead, never to the side, veil lowered, hands under her mantle or in her pockets. When she has them there, she will not have them elsewhere. When one hand gives a Letter, it is a hand that receives it.

That is true.

I want, take good care, I want her to always be in front of you at your right hand, at the distance of your arm, so that you can stop her if she goes too fast. Do not ever let yourself be cut off by a carriage, when one passes by: make her turn her face toward the wall; she has no business spying on what is happening in the carriages.