were at home for the Christmas holidays from the Visitation
Convent at Le Mans, and though there was, it is true, a slight
disappointment that the future priest was still denied them, it
quickly passed, and the little one was regarded as a special gift
from Heaven. Later on, her beloved Father delighted in calling
her his "Little Queen," adding at times the high-sounding
titles--"Of France and Navarre."

The Little Queen was indeed well received that winter's morning,
and in the course of the day a poor waif rang timidly at the door
of the happy home, and presented a paper bearing the following
simple stanza:

"Smile and swiftly grow; All beckons thee to joy, Sweet love, and
tenderest care. Smile gladly at the dawn, Bud of an hour!--for
thou Shalt be a stately rose."

It was a charming prophecy, for the bud unfolded its petals and
became a rose--a rose of love--but not for long, "for the space of
a morn!"

* * * * * *

On January 4, she was carried to the Church of Notre Dame to
receive the Sacrament of Baptism; her eldest sister, Marie, was
her godmother, and she was given the name of _Marie Françoise
Thérèse._[1]

All was joy at first, but soon the tender bud drooped on its
delicate stem: little hope was held out--it must wither and die.