the great bare room,
furnished so meagrely with faded furniture.

"I wish so too." The queen scarcely breathed the words, but the
sensitive child's ears caught them, and he answered eagerly.

"Then why do we have to stay? I thought a queen could always do what
she wanted to do."

In answer the poor, sore-hearted queen burst into tears, whereupon the
Dauphin's tutor tried to take the child from her, saying severely:

"My prince, you see you trouble the queen, and her majesty sorely needs
a rest. Come with me for a walk."

But Marie Antoinette shook her head and clung to the child whose hand
was now gently stroking her cheek, and whose tears were mingled with
her own.

Then from the street came the dreaded sound of loud shouts and cries
and threats, and the Dauphin clung more tightly to his mother, both
shivering with dread but both brave.

"Mamma," asked the Dauphin, "is to-day going to be just like
yesterday?"

His question was answered by the king himself, who entered the room
just then and flung himself into a chair, telling the queen that those
who had aided the mob in their violent acts were about to be brought to
trial for them, and he added his request that the queen should receive
the committee who had come to judge the people for their violence.

In stately dignity, Marie Antoinette then left the room to receive
other subjects, who still considered her the queen of France, and after
her going, King Louis and his little son were left alone.

The king, exhausted in body and mind, closed his eyes and lay back in
his chair, ready to sink into a light doze, when he was roused by a
gentle touch on his arm.

Beside him stood the Dauphin, his great blue eyes full of grave
thoughtfulness. When he saw the King's eyes open, he spoke.

"Papa," he said, hesitatingly, "I should like to ask you
something--something really serious!"

"Something really serious!" replied the King, smiling in spite of
himself. "Well, what is it? Let me hear."

"Papa," answered the Dauphin, with an air of one who has thought deeply
on a subject. "My governess has always told me I must love the people
of France and treat them kindly, because they love you and mama so
much. But if they do, papa, then why do the people act so badly to you?
And oh, papa, I have been told that your people owe you obedience and
respect, but they were not obedient nor respectful yesterday and they
said dreadful things I never heard before. What does it m