s master.

"Among the letters this evening there was one from Tours, which was
misdirected and therefore delayed. I thought it might be from monsieur's
brother, so I did not open it."

"Father!" cried Cesarine; "a letter from my uncle at Tours!"

"Ah, I am saved!" cried Cesar. "My brother! oh, my brother!" He kissed
the letter, as he broke the seal, and read it aloud to his wife and
daughter in a trembling voice:--

Answer of Francois to Cesar Birotteau.
Tours, 10th.

My beloved Brother,--Your letter gave me the deepest pain. As soon
as I had read it, I went at once and offered to God the holy
sacrifice of the Mass, imploring Him by the blood which His Son,
our divine Redeemer, shed for us, to look with mercy upon your
afflictions. At the moment when I offered the prayer _Pro meo
fratre Caesare_, my eyes were filled with tears as I thought of
you,--from whom, unfortunately, I am separated in these days when
you must sorely need the support of fraternal friendship. I have
thought that the worthy and venerable Monsieur Pillerault would
doubtless replace me. My dear Cesar, never forget, in the midst of
your troubles, that this life is a scene of trial, and is passing
away; that one day we shall be rewarded for having suffered for
the holy name of God, for His holy Church, for having followed the
teachings of His Gospel and practised virtue. If it were
otherwise, this world would have no meaning. I repeat to you these
maxims, though I know how good and pious you are, because it may
happen that those who, like you, are flung into the storms of life
upon the perilous waves of human interests might be tempted to
utter blasphemies in the midst of their adversity,--carried away
as they are by anguish. Curse neither the men who injure you nor
the God who mingles, at His will, your joy with bitterness. Look
not on life, but lift your eyes to heaven; there is comfort for
the weak, there are riches for the poor, there are terrors for
the--

"But, Birotteau," said his wife, "skip all that, and see what he sends
us."

"We will read it over and over hereafter," said Cesar, wiping his eyes
and turning over the page,--letting fall, as he did so, a Treasury note.
"I was sure of him, poor brother!" said Birotteau, picking up the note
and continuing to read, in a voice broken by tears.

I went to Madame de Listomere, and without tel