where to was not known.
Unfortunately, up to the present time, my researches have been useless.
After a thousand vain attempts before I utterly despaired, I resolved to
come here. Perhaps Madame de Fermont, who, from some inexplicable
motive, has not asked from me aid or assistance, may have had recourse
to my son as to the son of her husband's best friend. No doubt this hope
has but very slight foundation; but I will not neglect any chance that
may enable me to discover the poor woman and her child."

The Duchess de Lucenay, who had been listening to the comte with the
utmost attention, said, suddenly:

"Really it would be very singular if these should be the same persons in
whom Madame d'Harville takes so much interest."

"What persons?" inquired the comte.

"The widow of whom you speak is still young, is she not?--her face very
striking?"

"Yes, but how do you know?"

"Her daughter, as lovely as an angel, and about sixteen at most?"

"Yes, yes."

"And her name is Claire?"

"Oh, for mercy's sake, say, where are they?"

"Alas! I know not."

"You know not?"

"I will tell you all I know. A lady of my acquaintance, Madame
d'Harville, came to me to inquire whether or not I knew a widow lady
whose daughter was named Claire, and whose brother had committed
suicide. Madame d'Harville inquired of me because she had seen these
words, 'Write to Madame de Lucenay,' written at the bottom of a rough
sketch of a letter which this unfortunate lady was writing to some
stranger of whom she was asking assistance."

"She wished to write to you; and wherefore to you?"

"I cannot solve your question."

"But she knew you, it would seem," said M. de Saint-Remy, struck with a
sudden idea.

"What mean you?"

"She had heard me speak of your father a hundred times, as well as of
you and your generous and excellent heart. In her misfortune, it
occurred to her to address you."

"That really does explain this."

"And Madame d'Harville--tell me, how did she get this sketch of a letter
into her possession?"

"That I do not know; all I can say is, that, without knowing whither
this poor mother and child had gone for refuge, she was, I believe, on
the trace of them."

"Then I rely on you, Clotilde, to introduce me to Madame d'Harville. I
must see her this very day."

"Impossible! Her husband has just been the victim of a most afflicting
accident: a pistol which he did not know to be loaded went off in his
hands, and he