"Alas!"
"But God, who knows all, who can do all, how could He abandon us, He whom we have not offended?"
"I entreat you, my child, do not have such gloomy ideas; I would rather see you hope, even against hope. Come, rouse me up with your dear illusions; but I am but too apt to be discouraged, you know well."
"Yes, yes; let us hope; it is better. The nephew of the porter will soon return from the post-office with a letter. One more errand to pay from your little treasure, and through my fault. If I had not been so feeble to-day and yesterday, we could have gone ourselves, as we did before, but you would not leave me alone here to go yourself."
"Could I, my child? Judge then, just now this wretch who broke in the door, if you had been alone."
"Oh! mamma, hush; only to think of it makes me shudder."
At this moment some one knocked sharply at the door.
"Heavens, it is he," cried Madame de Fermont, and she pushed with all her strength the table against the door. Her fears, however, ceased when she heard the voice of Micou.
"Madame, my nephew, Andre, has come from the post-office. It is a letter with an X and a Z for address; it comes from a distance. There are eight sous postage and the commission—it is 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 shall suffer no more, no longer be uneasy about me; you shall be happy. God is just—God is good!" cried the young girl, and a ray of hope lighted up her sweet and charming face.