To allow her to
remain of this opinion seems an abuse of her good faith; to tell
her that nothing is to be expected from me would be a more likely
conclusion, but at the same time inflict upon the dear old lady a
cruel blow.
To my misfortune many of those near me share my aunt's opinion, and
this brings me to the point of drawing a sketch of my own character,
which is by no means an easy task, as my nature is rather a
complicated one.
I brought with me into the world very sensitive nerves, nerves
perfected by the culture of generations. During the first years of my
childhood I remained under the care of my aunt; after her departure,
according to the custom of our country, a nursery governess was
engaged for me. As we lived in Rome, among foreign surroundings, and
my father wished me to be well grounded in my own language, he engaged
a Polish governess. She is still with us as housekeeper at Babuino.
My father also bestowed some pains upon me, especially after my fifth
year. I used to go to his room to talk with him, and this developed my
mind prodigiously, too much so perhaps for my age. Later on, when his
studies and archaeologic researches took up his whole time, he engaged
a tutor, Father Calvi. This was an old man, with a mind and faith
exceedingly serene. He loved art beyond everything. I believe religion
even reacted upon him through its beauty.
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