The arm dropped instantly—­Victoire recollected Madame de Fleury’s kindness the day when the arm was broken; dismounting immediately, she threw herself upon her knees in the midst of the crowd of young spectators, and begged pardon of Sister Frances.  For the rest of the day she was as gentle as a lamb; nay, some assert that the effects of her contrition were visible during the remainder of the week.

Having thus found the secret of reducing the little rebel to obedience by touching her on the tender point of gratitude, the nun had recourse to this expedient in all perilous cases; but one day, when she was boasting of the infallible operation of her charm, Madame de Fleury advised her to forbear recurring to it frequently, lest she should wear out the sensibility she so much loved.  In consequence of this counsel, Victoire’s violence of temper was sometimes reduced by force and sometimes corrected by reason; but the principle and the feeling of gratitude were not exhausted or weakened in the struggle.  The hope of reward operated upon her generous mind more powerfully than the fear of punishment; and Madame de Fleury devised rewards with as much ability as some legislators invent punishments.

Victoire’s brother Maurice, who was now of an age to earn his own bread, had a strong desire to be bound apprentice to the smith who worked in the house where his mother lodged.  This most ardent wish of his soul he had imparted to his sister; and she consulted her benefactress, whom she considered as all-powerful in this, as in every other affair.

“Your brother’s wish shall be gratified,” replied Madame de Fleury, “if you can keep your temper one month.  If you are never in a passion for a whole month, I will undertake that your brother shall be bound apprentice to his friend the smith.  To your companions, to Sister Frances, and above all to yourself, I trust, to make me a just report this day month.”

CHAPTER IV

   “You she preferred to all the gay resorts,
   Where female vanity might wish to shine,
   The pomp of cities, and the pride of courts.”

   LYTTELTON.

At the end of the time prescribed, the judges, including Victoire herself, who was the most severe of them all, agreed she had justly deserved her reward.  Maurice obtained his wish; and Victoire’s temper never relapsed into its former bad habits—­so powerful is the effect of a well-chosen motive!  Perhaps the historian may be blamed for dwelling on such trivial anecdotes; yet a lady, who was accustomed to the conversation of deep philosophers and polished courtiers, listened without disdain to these simple annals.  Nothing appeared to her a trifle that could tend to form the habits of temper, truth, honesty, order, and industry:  habits which are to be early induced, not by solemn precepts, but by practical lessons.  A few more examples of these shall be recorded, notwithstanding the fear of being tiresome.