All her life long, one may fancy, would Madelon cherish the
remembrance of his unceasing tenderness, of his unwearying
love for his little girl, which showed itself in a thousand
different ways, and which, with one warm, loving little heart,
at any rate, would ever go far to cover a multitude of sins.
The only drawback to her perfect content in these early days
was the presence of her uncle Charles, whom she could not
bear, and who, for his part, looked upon her as a mere
encumbrance, and her being with them at all as a piece of
fatuity on the part of his brother-in-law. There were constant
skirmishes between them while they were together; but even
these ceased after a time, for Moore, who, ever since his
sister's marriage, had clung fitfully to M. Linders, as a
luckier and more prosperous man than himself, was accustomed
to be absent on his own account for months together, and
during one of these solitary journeys he died, about two years
after Horace Graham had seen him at Chaudfontaine. Henceforth
Madelon and her father were alone.
Madelon, then, by the time she was eight years old, had learnt
to sing, dance, speak several languages, to write, to play
_rouge et noir_, and _roulette_, and indeed _piquet_ and _ecarte_,
too, to great perfection, and to read books of fairy tales.
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