he arrows that fly by
night; nor the pestilence that wastes by day! I cannot express how
deeply I am moved and how grateful I am for God's goodness toward
me.

September 12th, 1873.

This morning I made a scene with Mamma and my aunt. I could stand it
no longer, the bottle had to be opened, there was too much gas in
it. I wept. It lasted two hours and a half.

I asked forgiveness. Just at that moment some one said that a house
on the Rue de France was burning. I ran to see it. We were all at
the windows. The carriages were brought from the stables, women came
out carrying children. The building was not yet in flames. There was
a courtyard surrounded by four sheds filled with hay. The fire
flared high, but the people in Nice are always the same. They do
nothing to subdue it, only stand at a distance to enjoy the
spectacle.

Oh! if it were in Russia, it would have been extinguished long ago.
Our fire engines are terrible when they are heard a league away,
every quarter has one. The firemen in golden helmets and lots of
little bells. (The noise the Duc de H----'s carriage makes coming
from a distance reminds me of the fire engines.)

At last, after half an hour, a cart arrived, dragged by ten men,
what a mere nothing! And four soldiers with guns.

No doubt they were going to extinguish the fire with them! But it
was out before they came.

So I return to what I was saying: A complete reform in my costume
and character, I will become kind, pleasant, gentle. I will try to
be the good genius of the house.

I want to make myself loved and esteemed by every one, from the
meanest beggar to the duke and king. This is the promise I make to
God. Since I desire so great a happiness, I must deserve it. That is
the way I hope to obtain it.

Therefore I make a solemn vow to God that I will do what I say. If I
fail once in my oath, I shall lose everything. I will address myself
to the Holy Virgin and pray her, with Her Son, to guide and protect
me.

I rose at five o'clock to-day. I have worked well, I am satisfied
with myself. How happy we are when we are content with ourselves!
All the rest matters little; we find everything, satisfactory, we
are happy. My happiness depends upon myself. I have only to study
well.

September 15th, 1873.

I spoke Italian to-day for the first time. Poor M. (my professor)
almost fell in a faint, or threw himself out of the window. I can
say that I speak English, French, Italian, and a