facility in performing the little services so acceptable in moments
like those I had just witnessed.

Charles X, the Dauphin and Dauphine, and the Duchesse de Berri, were
present--the two latter in landaus, attended by their ladies. The king
looked well, his grey hair and tall thin figure giving him a very
venerable aspect.

The Dauphine is much changed since I last saw her, and the care and
sorrow of her childhood have left their traces on her countenance. I
never saw so melancholy a face, and the strength of intellect which
characterises it renders it still more so, by indicating that the marks
of sorrow so visible were not indented on that brow without many an
effort from the strong mind to resist the attacks of grief.

I remember reading years ago of the melancholy physiognomy of King
Charles I, which when seen in his portrait by a Florentine sculptor, to
whom it was sent in order that a bust should be made from it, drew
forth the observation that the countenance indicated that its owner
would come to a violent death.

I was reminded of this anecdote by the face of the Duchesse
d'Angoulême; for though I do not pretend to a prescience as to her
future fate, I cannot help arguing from it that, even should a peaceful
reign await her, the fearful trials of her youth have destroyed in her
the power of enjoyment; and that on a throne she can never forget the
father and mother she saw hurried from it, to meet every insult that
malice could invent, or cruelty could devise, before a violent death
freed them from their sufferings.