risen from obscurity; how they had started from the lowest ranks of
society, with no one to look to but themselves, and achieved noble
destinies.

These readings, and they were not the least useful of Louis' lessons,
took place while little Marie slept on his mother's knee in the quiet
of the summer night, and the Loire reflected the sky; but when they
ended, this adorable woman's sadness always seemed to be doubled; she
would cease to speak, and sit motionless and pensive, and her eyes
would fill with tears.

"Mother, why are you crying?" Louis asked one balmy June evening, just
as the twilight of a soft-lit night succeeded to a hot day.

Deeply moved by his trouble, she put her arm about the child's neck
and drew him to her.

"Because, my boy, the lot of Jameray Duval, the poor and friendless
lad who succeeded at last, will be your lot, yours and your brother's,
and I have brought it upon you. Before very long, dear child, you will
be alone in the world, with no one to help or befriend you. While you
are still children, I shall leave you, and yet, if only I could wait
till you are big enough and know enough to be Marie's guardian! But I
shall not live so long. I love you so much that it makes me very
unhappy to think of it. Dear children, if only you do not curse me
some day!----"

"But why should I curse you some day, mother?"

"Some day," she said, kissing him on the forehead, "you will find out