Go and amuse yourself, it will please me--only there is an idea that troubles me more than usual--and I want to confide it to you." "What is it then, dear papa ?" "Amedee, last March your mother had been dead fifteen years.

You hardly knew her.

She was the sweetest and best of creatures, and all that I can wish you is, that you may meet such a woman, make her your companion for life, and be more fortunate than I, my poor Amedee, and keep her always.
During these frightful years since your mother's death I have suffered, do you see?
suffered horribly, and I have never, never been consoled.
If I have lived--if I have had the strength to live, in spite of all, it was only for you and in remembrance of her.

I think I have nearly finished my task.

You are a young man, intelligent and honest, and you have now an employment which will give you your bread.