"SIR: Be assured that the most extreme misery alone could compel me to the step which I now take. It is not mistaken pride which causes my scruples, but the absolute want of any and every claim on you for the service which I am about to ask. The sight of my daughter, reduced, as well as myself, to the most frightful destitution, has made me throw aside all hesitation. A few words only as to the cause of the misfortunes which have overwhelmed me. After the death of my husband, all my fortune was three hundred thousand francs (12,000_l._), which was placed by my brother with M. Jacques Ferrand, the notary; I received at Angers, whither I had settled with my daughter, the interest of this sum, remitted to me by my brother. You know, sir, the horrible event which put an end to his days. Ruined, as it seems, by secret and unfortunate speculations, he put an end to his existence eight months since. After this sad event, I received a few lines, written by him in desperation before this awful deed. 'When I should peruse them,' he wrote, 'he should no longer exist.' He terminated this letter by informing me that he had not any acknowledgment of the sum which he had placed, in my name, with M. Jacques Ferrand, as that individual never gave any receipt, but was honour and piety itself; that, therefore, it would be sufficient for me to present myself to that gentleman, and my business would be regularly and satisfactorily adjusted. As soon as I was able to turn my attention to anything besides the mournful end of my poor brother, I came to Paris, where I knew no one, sir, but yourself, and you only by the connection that had subsisted between yourself and my husband. I have told you that the sum deposited with M. Jacques Ferrand was my entire fortune, and that my brother forwarded to me every six months the interest which arose from that sum. More than a year had elapsed since the last payment, and, consequently, I went to M. Jacques Ferrand to ask the amount of him, as I was greatly in want of it. Scarcely was I in his presence, than, without any consideration of my grief, he accused my brother of having borrowed two thousand francs of him, which he had lost by his death, adding, that not only was suicide a crime before God and man, but, also, that it was an act of robbery, of which he, M. Jacques Ferrand, was the victim. I was indignant at such language, for the remarkable probity of my poor brother was well known; he had, it is true, unknown to me and his friends, lost his fortune in hazardous speculations, but he had died with an unspotted reputation, deeply regretted by all, and not leaving any debt except to his notary. I replied to M. Ferrand, that I authorised him at once to take the two thousand francs, which he