"Two daughters? I once had a little maiden of my own, but she is dead," said the emperor, sadly. "How can I serve you and your children?"
"Oh, sire, the fearful ordinance by which the pensions from her late majesty's privy-purse were withdrawn, has ruined me. I beseech of you, sire, restore to me my pension extraordinary."
"Are you not aware that the pensions extraordinary are abolished?"
"Yes, sire; but through your majesty's liberality, I hope to retain the pension I held from the empress. The loss of it heightens my grief for the death of my husband, and makes life unendurable. Without it I should have to part with my carriage, with a portion of my household, and live in complete retirement. I am sure that your majesty's own sense of justice will plead for me."
"Justice is the motive power of all my actions, madam," replied the emperor, curtly, "and for that very reason you cannot retain your pension."
"Sire, I am sorely stricken. The merits of my husband—my position—"
"Your husband's merits have earned you the pension you already receive from the crown; and as for your position, that can in no way concern me. I grant that your loss is great; but your special pension will maintain three poor families, and I cannot allow you to receive it longer."
"Alas!" cried the lady, "what are my daughters to do?"
"They can become good house-keepers or governesses, if they have received good educations."
"Impossible, sire. My daughters are of noble birth, and they cannot descend to the humiliation of earning a living."