"And if he has received it, my child; of two things choose one: either he is in such a situation that he cannot come to our aid, or he feels no interest for us; then why expose ourselves to a refusal or a humiliation?"
"Come, courage, mamma, we have one hope left. Perhaps this morning will bring us a happy answer."
"From Lord d'Orbigny?"
"Without doubt. This letter, of which you formerly made a draught, was so simple, so touching—exposed so naturally our misfortunes, that he will have pity on us. Really, I do not know what tells me you are wrong to despair of assistance."
"He has so little reason to interest himself about us: he had, it is true, formerly known your father, and I had often heard my brother speak of Lord d'Orbigny as of a man with whom he had been on friendly terms before he left Paris with his young wife."
"It is just on that account that I have hopes; he has a young wife, she will be compassionate; and, besides, in the country one can do so much good. He will take you, I suppose, for housekeeper; I will take care of the linen. Since Lord d'Orbigny is very rich, in a large house there is always employment."
"Yes; but we have so little right to his interest. We are so unfortunate."
"That is frequently a title in the eyes of charitable people. Let us hope that Lord d'Orbigny and his wife are so."
"Well, in case we need expect nothing from him, I will overcome my false shame, and will write to the Duchess de Lucenay—this lady of whom M. de Saint Remy spoke so often, whose generosity and good heart he so often praised. Yes, the daughter of the Prince de Noirmont. He knew her when she was very small, and he treated her almost as his child, for he was intimately connected with the prince. Madame de Lucenay must have many-acquaintances; she could, perhaps, find us a place."
"Doubtless, mamma, but I understand your reserve; you do not know her at all, while my poor father and uncle knew Lord d'Orbigny a little."