Give our dear children a fond embrace for me. I suppose that you will not keep them in Paris during the hot season. Let them take the initiative in a great part of their life; let them develop themselves freely and without constraint. In that way you will make virile beings of them. Finally, draw from them at the same time both consolation and strength. Now I have only to tell you that I wish, that I am hoping always, that this sad drama is soon to end. That would be such a blessing for all, for us, as for our dear families. Your poor, dear mother, even now so delicate; your dear father--they both will need rest and calm, after such appalling, such unimaginable tortures. We may well call them that. Often and often I ask myself how you all are, when news of you is so rare, and comes from so far. And how often I scan the horizon, my eyes turned toward France, hoping that this may be the day on which my country is to call me back to her. While we wait for that day let us stand firm, dear Lucie; let us draw from our consciences and from our duty, the fresh stores of the strength we need so much. Embrace all our family for me, and for yourself the tenderest kisses of your devoted husband. ALFRED. * * * * * _2 July, 1895._ My dear Lucie: When this letter reaches you your birthday will be at hand. The only hope that I can form, and which is in your heart as it is in mine, is that I shall soon be told that our honor is given back to us and with it our former happiness. My conscience and my reason give me faith; the supernatural is not of this world. In the end everything is made clear. But the hours of waiting are long and cruel when the situation is so appalling as well for us as for our families. Your dear letters of the beginning of March--you see how they are delayed--are my daily reading. I succeed thus, though far from you, in talking with you. My thoughts, indeed, never leave you, nor our dear children. I await tidings of your health and that of our children with impatience. I am also anxious to know what date your letters will bear. My health is good. My heart beats with your own, and envelops you with all its tenderness. I have written you two long letters during the last half of June; I could only keep on repeating myself. Let me end this letter by embracing you with all the strength of our souls, and our dear children also. Your devoted ALFRED. Kisses to all our family. * * * * * _2 July, 11 o’clock in the evening._ My dear Lucie: I had been without news of you since the seventh of March. This evening I received your letters of March and of the beginning of April; they, probably, had returned to France; then, later, those which you sent directly to the Ministry. I had already written a few words to you this morning, but I make haste to answer your letters by the same post.