This, however, did not prevent her from reproaching her
daughter in private with telling me everything, and loving me too
much, observing to her she was a fool and would at length be made a
dupe.
This woman possessed, to a supreme degree, the art of multiplying
the presents made her, by concealing from one what she received from
another, and from me what she received from all. I could have pardoned
her avarice, but it was impossible I should forgive her dissimulation.
What could she have to conceal from me whose happiness she knew
principally consisted in that of herself and her daughter? What I
had done for the daughter I had done for myself, but the services I
rendered the mother merited on her part some acknowledgement. She
ought, at least, to have thought herself obliged for them to her
daughter, and to have loved me for the sake of her by whom I was
already beloved. I had raised her from the lowest state of
wretchedness; she received from my hands the means of subsistence, and
was indebted to me for her acquaintance with the persons from whom she
found means to reap considerable benefit. Theresa had long supported
her by her industry, and now maintained her with my bread. She owed
everything to this daughter, for whom she had done nothing, and her
other children, to whom she had given marriage portions, and on
whose account she had ruined herself, far from giving her the least
aid, devoured her substance and mine. I thought that in such a
situation she ought to consider me as her only friend and most sure
protector, and that, far from making of my own affairs a secret to me,
and conspiring against me in my house, it was her duty faithfully to
acquaint me with everything in which I was interested, when this
came to her knowledge before it did to mine.
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