You love no one here?
you have no lover, have you ?" she asked, holding Modeste on her lap, heart to heart.
"No, my dear mamma," said the little Jesuit.
"Can you swear it ?" "Oh, yes!" cried Modeste.
Madame Mignon said no more; but she still doubted.
"At least, if you do choose your husband, you will tell your father ?" she resumed.
"I promised that to my sister, and to you, mother.

What evil do you think I could commit while I wear that ring upon my finger and read those words: 'Think of Bettina ?' Poor sister!" At these words a truce of silence came between the pair; the mother's blighted eyes rained tears which Modeste could not check, though she threw herself upon her knees, and cried: "Forgive me! oh, forgive me, mother!" At this instant the excellent Dumay was coming up the hill of Ingouville on the double-quick,--a fact quite abnormal in the present life of the cashier.
Three letters had brought ruin to the Mignons; a single letter now restored their fortunes.

Dumay had received from a sea-captain just arrived from the China Seas the following letter containing the first news of his patron and friend, Charles Mignon:-- To Monsieur Jean Dumay: My Dear Dumay,--I shall quickly follow, barring the chances of the voyage, the vessel which carries this letter.

In fact, I should have taken it, but I did not wish to leave my own ship to which I am accustomed.
I told you that no new was to be good news.

But the first words of this letter ought to make you a happy man.