the first pages of this good lady's letters, and her monthly notices of progress, are forever hymns about the excellence of such a child, which I have to translate into my own prose; while her concluding sentences about Ottilie are nothing but excuse after excuse-attempts at explaining how it can be that a girl in other respects growing up so lovely seems coming to nothing, and shows neither capacity nor accomplishment.
bitartean bere gutunen lehen orrialdeak eta hileroko txostenak halako haurraren bikaintasunari buruzko goraltzak besterik ez dira, nik neure prosara ongi itzultzen ditudanak; aitzitik, berriz, azkenean Ottiliaz aipatzen didana, beti desenkusa eta desenkusa baizik ez da izaten, gainerakoan hain ederki garatzen ari den neskatxak ez duela inolako gaitasun eta trebetasunik erakutsi nahi.