"I have wanted to write to you for a long time； excuse me if I have not done so. The cause is the stupid life which I lead at present. You have seen this sudden infatuation for radium， which has resulted for us in all the advantages of a moment of popularity. We have been pursued by journalists and photographers from all countries of the world； they have gone even so far as to report the conversation between my daughter and her nurse， and to describe the black-and-white cat that lives with us. . . . Further， we have had a great many appeals for money. . . . Finally， the collectors of autographs， snobs， society people， and even at times， scientists， have come to see us -- in our magnificent and tranquil quarters in the laboratory -- and every evening there has been a voluminous correspondence to send off. With such a state of things I feel myself invaded by a kind of stupor. And yet all this turmoil will not perhaps have been in vain， if it results in my getting a chair and a laboratory. To tell the truth， it will be necessary to create the chair， and I shall not have the laboratory at first. I should have preferred the reverse， but Liard wishes to take advantage of the present moment to bring about the creation of a new chair that will later be acquired for the university. They are to establish a chair without a fixed program， which will be something like a course in the Collège de France， and I believe I shall be obliged to change my subject each year， which will be a great trial to me."
" January
". . . I have had to give up going to Sweden. We are， as you see， most irregular in our relations with the Swedish Academy； but， to tell the truth， I can only keep up by avoiding all physical fatigue. And my wife is in the same condition； we can no longer dream of the great work days of times gone by.
"As to research， I am doing nothing at present. With my course， my students， apparatus to install， and the interminable procession of people who come to disturb me without serious reason， the days pass without my having been able to achieve anything useful at this end."
" July
"My DEAR FRIEND：
"We have regretted so much being deprived of your visit this year， but hope to see you in October. If we do not make an effort from time to time， we end by losing touch with our best and most congenial friends， and in keeping company with others for the simple reason that it is easy to meet them.
"We continue to lead the same life of people who are extremely occupied， without being able to accomplish anything interesting. It is now more than a year since I have been able to engage in any research， and I have no moment to myself. Clearly I have not yet discovered a means to defend ourselves against this frittering away of our time which is nevertheless extremely necessary. Intellectually， it is a question of life or death."
" November
"I begin my course tomorrow but under very bad conditions for the preparation of my experiments. The lecture room is at the Sorbonne， and my laboratory is in the rue Cuvier. Besides， a great number of other courses are given in the same lecture room， and I can use it only one morning for the preparation of my own. .
"I am neither very well， nor very ill； but I am easily fatigued， and I have left but very little capacity for work. My wife， on the contrary， leads a very active life， between her children， the School at Sèvres， and the laboratory. She does not lose a minute， and occupies herself more regularly than I can with the direction of the laboratory in which she passes the greater part of the day."
To sum up： despite these outside complications， our life， by a common effort of will， remained as simple and as retired as formerly. Toward the close of our family was increased by the birth of a second daughter. Eve Denise was born in the modest house in Boulevard Kellermann， where we still lived with Doctor Curie， seeing only a few friends.
As our elder daughter grew up， she began to be a little companion to her father， who took a lively interest in her education and gladly went for walks with her in his free times， especially on his vacation days. He carried on serious conversations with her， replying to all her questions and delighting in the progressive development of her young mind. From their early age， his children enjoyed his tender affection， and he never wearied of trying to understand these little beings， in order to be able to give them the best he had to give.
