Andshethrewherarmsaroundtheneckofherhusband，and，leaningherheaduponhisbreast，weptaloud。
Thekingpressedhercloselytohisheart，andthetearswhichflowedfromhisowneyesfellinhotdropsupontheheadofthequeen。
Neithersawthedoorbeyondlightlyopen，andtheDuchessdePolignacappearthere。Butwhenshesawtheroyalpairincloseembrace，whensheheardtheirloudweeping，shedrewback，stoopeddowntothelittleboywhostoodbyherside，whisperedafewwordstohim，and，whilegentlypushinghimforward，drewbackherself，andgentlyclosedthedoorbehindthem。Thelittlefellowstoodamomentirresolutelyatthedoor，fixinghiseyesnowuponhisfatherandmother，nowuponthenosegayofvioletsandroseswhichhecarriedinhishand。ThelittleLouisCharleswasofthatsweetandtouchingbeautythatbringstearsintoone’seyes，andfillstheheartwithsadness，becausethethoughtcannotbesuppressed，thatlife，withitsrough，wintrystorms，willhavenopityonthistenderblossomofinnocence，andthatthebeaming，angel-faceofthechildmustonedaybechangedintotheclouded，weather-beaten，furrowedfaceoftheman。Acheeringsighttolookuponwasthelittle，delicatefigureofthefour-year-oldboy，pleasinginhiswholeappearance。Moroccoboots，withredtips，coveredhislittlefeet；broadtrousers，ofdark-bluevelvet，cametohisknees，andwereheldtogetheratthewaistbyabluesilksash，whoselace-
tippedendsfellathisleftside。Heworeabluevelvetjacket，withatastefullyembroideredlacerufflearoundtheneck。Theround，rosyface，withtherubylips，thedimpleinthechin，thelargeblueeyes，shadedbylong，darklashes，andcrownedbythebroad，loftybrow，wasrimmedaroundwithaprofusionofgoldenhair，whichfellinlong，heavylocksuponhisshouldersandoverhisneck。ThechildwasasbeautifultolookuponasoneoftheangelsinRaphael’s“SistineMadonna，“andhemighthavebeentakenforone，haditnotbeenforthesilver-embroidered，brilliantstaruponhisleftside。Thisstar，whichdesignatedhisprincelyrank，wasfortheprettychildthesealofhismortality——thesealwhichruinhadalreadyimpresseduponhisinnocentchild’sbreast。
Onemomenttheboystoodindecisivelythere，lookingathisweepingparents；thenheturnedquicklyforward，and，holdinguphisnosegay，hesaid：“Mamma，Ihavebroughtyousomeflowersfrommygarden。“