t awarded to such as are convicted
of breach of trust is two months' imprisonment and a fine of
twenty-five francs."--_Art. 406 and 408 of the "Code Penal."_

On the chair sat the Baroness de Fermont, and in the bed reposed her
daughter, Claire de Fermont. Such were the names of these two victims of
the villainy of Jacques Ferrand. Possessing but one bed, the mother and
child took it by turns to sleep. Too much uneasiness and too many bitter
cares prevented Madame de Fermont from enjoying the blessing of repose;
but her daughter's young and elastic nature easily yielded to the
natural impulse which made her willingly seek in short slumbers a
temporary respite from the misery by which she was surrounded during her
waking hours. At the present moment she was sleeping peacefully.

Nothing could be imagined more touchingly affecting than the picture of
misery imposed by the avarice of the notary on two females hitherto
accustomed to every comfort, and surrounded in their native city by that
respect which is ever felt for honourable and honoured families.

Madame de Fermont was about six and thirty years of age, with a
countenance at once expressive of gentleness and intelligence, mingled
with an indescribably noble and majestic air. Her features, which had
once boasted extreme beauty, were now pale and careworn; her dark hair
was separated on her forehead, and formed two thick, lustrous bandeaux,
which, after shading her pallid countenance, were twisted in with her
back hair, whose tresses the hand of sorrow had already mingled with
gray. Dressed in an old shabby black dress, patched and pieced in
various places, Madame de Fermont, her head supported by her hand, was
surveying her child with looks of ineffable tenderness.

Claire was but sixteen years of age, and her gentle and innocent
countenance, thin and sorrowful as that of her mother, looked still more
pallid as contrasted with the coarse, unbleached linen which covered her
bolster, filled only with sawdust. The once brilliant complexion of the
poor girl had sickened beneath the privations she endured; and, as she
slept, the long, dark lashes which fringed her large and lustrous eyes
stood out almost unnaturally upon her sunken cheek; the once fresh and
rosy lips were now dry, cracked, and colourless, yet, half opened as
they were, they displayed the faultless regularity of her pearly teeth.

The harsh contact of the rough linen which covered her bed had caused