I had just arrived to Tellson's Bank in Paris from London, and I was seventeen years old at the time. I was very anxious to see the man who called me here. My room was large and extremely dark with candles on the table. I think that the room was so dark, the man couldn't even tell I was there.  I stood by the fire to meet him and he bowed. I was curious, I felt confused and a little bit scared. He asked me to sit, kissed my hand, and bowed again. Mr. Lorry had appropriate manners. I explained to him the letter I received from the bank, notifying me about a piece of information, something that would be very shocking to me. Mr. Lorry looked nervous. I curtseyed him in sign of respect, and he bowed once more. He began to tell me a story. a story about a customer of the bank, a doctor. as he went on, it began to sound familiar to me, like my father's story. I now knew who this man was. He brought me here to tell me that my father was not dead. I've never felt so surprised as I did that day, I was in absolute shock. I was upset, but kept calm, waiting to hear more.

Monsieur Defarge led Mr. Lorry and I up many stairs before we came to a door. When the door was opened, I saw him sitting in a dark room. I waited at the door while Monsieur Defarge spoke with him. He seemed lifeless, like he hadn't interacted with anyone in years. He was making a shoe, and Defarge notified him that he had a visitor. Defarge signaled Mr. Lorry over to my father, and he told him that his name was one hundred and five north tower. As they were talking, I slowly got closer to look at my father. I felt terrified, until something came over me, I wanted to hold him. I stood by his side and he finaly noticed me. He looked frightened, he looked at me and I began to cry. Neither of us spoke much, but I sat by his side and rested my head on his shoulder. He examined my hair, and pulled out a locket that had identical curls to mine, then intensely stared. He asked who I was, but I couldn't tell him. I just asked for his blessing. I wanted to take my father from his agony, I wanted to take him home and take care of him.

To me, Sydney Carton had always seemed a bit gloomy. I knew he had a good heart, it was just hard to see. He would spend many nights strolling the streets near my house. This day was different, the air was sweet and after wandering aimlessly for hours, Mr. Carton came inside. I was working alone when the servant brought him to me. I was a bit embarrassed, but never felt uncomfortable in his presence. Something about his face looked different than usual, he looked quite ill. He told me it wasn't a sickness, but simply his lifestyle. He was sad, wondered why he didn't choose a better lifestyle and he cried. He had no hope, he assured himself that life for him could only get worse. I told him that life will get better, and showed my faith in him. I was an inspiration to him and helped him remember many things he thought he had forgotten. I was very glad to see that he had trusted me. He confessed his love to me and I promised to keep it a secret. I didn't love him back, but I wished there was something else I could do for him. I wanted to be there for him, but not in the way he wanted me. He told me something this day that I will never forget. Sydney Carton told me that he would die for me, and even those I love.

Charles was in prison for a year and three months. The thought of my husband getting the guillotine never left my mind. I was on constant fear but knew there was nothing I could do. After everything that happened with my father, I was more than dedicated to Charles. I wouldn't forget Charles like I had once forgotten my father. Charles was my responsibility and I was committed to him. Also, I couldn't let the same thing happen to my daughter that happen to me. I assured her that her father was there and would be home soon. I wanted to make things as normal as they could be. The only thing that helped was praying for Charles every night. It was hard, and some nights I would break down. After saying goodnight to my father I would often cry myself to sleep. My father was the only person I could depend on, and he promised me that he would save Charles. He told me about a window in the prison that Charles can look out of and maybe see me. It would not be safe, but I told myself that I had to go every day. From then on, I waited there for two hours and never missed a single day.

Sydney Carton & I