But although it was understood that they must not go to
their mother's room before a certain hour, they peeped in at the door
continually; and these morning inroads, made in defiance of the
original compact, were delicious moments for all three. Marie sprang
upon the bed to put his arms around his idolized mother, and Louis,
kneeling by the pillow, took her hand in his. Then came inquiries,
anxious as a lover's, followed by angelic laughter, passionate
childish kisses, eloquent silences, lisping words, and the little
ones' stories interrupted and resumed by a kiss, stories seldom
finished, though the listener's interest never failed.
"Have you been industrious?" their mother would ask, but in tones so
sweet and so kindly that she seemed ready to pity laziness as a
misfortune, and to glance through tears at the child who was satisfied
with himself.
She knew that the thought of pleasing her put energy into the
children's work; and they knew that their mother lived for them, and
that all her thoughts and her time were given to them. A wonderful
instinct, neither selfishness nor reason, perhaps the first innocent
beginnings of sentiment teaches children to know whether or not they
are the first and sole thought, to find out those who love to think of
them and for them.
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