ry--for want
of work, and because a wicked man has taken from you all you had in the
world?"

"Oh, be silent, my unfortunate child!"

"But really, mamma, is it possible?"

"Alas!"

"But God, who knows all, who can do all, will he abandon us, who have
never offended him?"

"I entreat you, my dearest girl, do not give way to these distressing
ideas. I would prefer seeing you hope, without great reason, either.
Come, come, comfort me rather with your consoling ideas; I am but too
apt to be discouraged, as you well know."

"Yes, yes, let us hope, that is best. No doubt the porter's nephew will
return to-day from the _Poste-Restante_ with a letter. Another errand to
pay out of your little stock, and through my fault. If I had not been so
weak yesterday and to-day we should have gone to the post-office
ourselves, as we did the day before yesterday; but you will not leave me
here alone and go yourself."

"How could I, my dear? Only think, just now, that horrid man who burst
open the door! Suppose you had been alone?"

"Oh, mamma, pray don't talk of it; it quite frightens me only to think
of it."

At this moment some one knocked suddenly at the door.

"Heaven, it is he again!" exclaimed Madame de Fermont, still under her
first fears; and she pushed the table against the door with all her
strength. Her fears ceased when she heard the voice of Father Micou:

"Madame, my nephew, Andre, has come from the _Poste-Restante_. He has
brought a letter with an 'X' and a 'Z.' It comes a long way; there are
eight sous for postage, and commission makes twenty sous."

"Mamma, a letter from the country,--we are saved! It is from M. de
Saint-Remy or M. d'Orbigny. Poor mother! You will not suffer any more;
you will no longer be uneasy about me, you will be so happy! God is
just! God is good!" exclaimed the young girl, and a ray of hope lighted
up her mild and lovely face.

"Oh, sir, thank you; give it to me quickly!" said Madame de Fermont,
moving the table as well as she could, and half opening the door.

"Twenty sous," said the man, giving her the anxiously desired letter.

"I will pay you, sir."

"Oh, madame, there's no hurry, I am going up higher; in ten minutes I
shall be down again, and can call for the money as I pass."

"The letter is from Normandy, with the postmark of 'Les Aubiers.' It is
from Madame d'Orbigny!" exclaimed Madame de Fermont, examining the
address, "To Madame X. Z., _Poste-Restante_, a Paris."

"W