bright June day, and the famous gardens
surrounding the palace at Versailles were gay with bloom and heavy with
scents as rare as was the morning. King Louis Sixteenth of France
looked from a window out over the terraces in their vari-coloured
beauty, and saw among the blossoms, a little figure busy with spade and
rake, and although the King's heart was heavy with sorrow because of
the death of his elder son, the Dauphin, as the eldest son of the King
of France, and heir to the throne, was always called, yet he was filled
too with pride as he looked out at the little Louis Charles, to whom
only three short hours before had descended the titles and honours
which had belonged to his brother.

The King's long and earnest glance at the little Dauphin attracted the
child's attention, and dropping his tools, he waved frantically towards
the window, crying out:

"Papa, see the beautiful flowers. I am pleased with myself. I shall
deserve mamma's first kiss to-day, I shall have a bouquet for her
dressing-table. May I come and show it to you?"

The king bowed his head in answer and smiled a sad smile as he turned
to the queen, Marie Antoinette, who even then stood beside him, weeping
bitterly for the other son who had gone from her for ever.

So absorbed was King Louis in his attempt to comfort her, that he
forgot the new little Dauphin, until the door opened softly, and he saw
the small figure standing just inside the door, holding tightly in his
hand a bouquet of violets and roses. Charming in his childish grace and
beauty was little Louis as he stood there, watching his father and then
his mother, with grave concern at their evident sadness, and quickly he
held up his flowers to his mother and said with sweet grace:

"Mamma, I have picked you some flowers from my garden."

Still Marie Antoinette could not speak, but the king caught the child
up in his arms, saying:

"Marie, he too is our son. He is the Dauphin of France."

Slowly Marie Antoinette turned, clasped his bright, lovely face in her
two hands, and stooping, kissed him tenderly on his forehead.

"I had forgotten," she said. "God bless and protect you, Dauphin of
France. I only pray that the storm clouds which now darken our sky may
be long past, when you ascend the throne of your fathers!"

Little Louis' forehead was wrinkled with perplexity.

"But, mamma," he asked timidly--"why is it you all call me Dauphin
to-day, when I am just your little Louis, who