Had I seen you, I should probably have stammered out something feeble and unsatisfactory--something belying my feelings rather than explaining them; so it is perhaps as well that I was denied admission to your presence.

You often remarked, monsieur, that my devoirs dwelt a great deal on fortitude in bearing grief--you said I introduced that theme too often: I find indeed that it is much easier to write about a severe duty than to perform it, for I am oppressed when I see and feel to what a reverse fate has condemned me; you were kind to me, monsieur--very kind; I am afflicted--I am heart-broken to be quite separated from you; soon I shall have no friend on earth.

But it is useless troubling you with my distresses.

What claim have I on your sympathy?
None; I will then say no more.
"Farewell, Monsieur.
"F.

E.HENRI." I put up the note in my pocket-book.