"Why do you believe that, Camilla?" she asked.

"I don't believe it, I know it," said the child, with a sly smile,

"When papa spoke to you, for the last time, and told you good-by
forever, he told you the same he had told me. Oh! I was there and
heard all; you did not see me slip into the room and hide behind the
fire-place. Papa told you that you had been the cause of all his
unhappiness and shame; that from the day you had run off with the
gardener and he, at the king's command, went after you, and married
you--from that day, he had been a lost man, and when he said that,
you cried, but did not tell him, as you told me, that it was not
true."

Louise did not answer. This last taunt had crushed her heart, and
silenced her. Still leaning on the bed, she looked at her child with
painful tenderness. Camilla's mocking laughter had pierced her soul
as with a dagger.

"Lost," she murmured, "both of us lost!"

With passionate despair she threw her arms around the child, and
pressed her closely; kissed her wildly again and again, and covered
her face with burning tears.

"No, Camilla, no! you shall not be lost, you must remain good and
pure! Every child has its guardian angel; pray, my child, pray that
your angel may watch over you!"