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To her father himself, he wrote in the same strain; but, he told

her father that he expressly confided his wife and child to his

care. And he told him this, very strongly, with the hope of

rousing him from any despondency or dangerous retrospect towards

which he foresaw he might be tending.

To Mr. Lorry, he commended them all, and explained his worldly

affairs. That done, with many added sentences of grateful

friendship and warm attachment, all was done. He never thought of

Carton. His mind was so full of the others, that he never once

thought of him.

He had time to finish these letters before the lights were put

out. When he lay down on his straw bed, he thought he had done

with this world.