I have not strength to write another word."

"The day was beginning to break," we read in the unpublished
Memoirs of the Governess of the Children of France. "I went to the
bed of Monseigneur. He was awakened. He was not surprised, and
said nothing, and allowed himself to be dressed. Not so with
Mademoiselle. I told her gently of the misfortune that had come
upon her family. I was agitated. She questioned me, asking where
was bon-papa. I told her that he was still in Paris, but was
coming to Saint Cloud; then I added: 'Your bon-papa, Mademoiselle,
is King, since the King is no more.' She reflected, then,
repeating the word: 'King! Oh! that indeed is the worst of the
story.' I was astonished, and wished her to explain her idea; she
simply repeated it. I thought then she had conceived the notion of
a king always rolled about in his chair."

The same day the court arrived. It was no longer the light
carriage that used almost daily to bring Monsieur, to the great
joy of his grandchildren. It was the royal coach with eight
horses, livery, escort, and body-guard. The Duke of Bordeaux and
his sister were on the porch with their governess. On perceiving
the coach, instead of shouting with pleasure, as was their custom,
they remained motionless and abashed. Charles X. was pale and
silent. In the vestibule he paused: "What chamber have you
prepared for me?" he said sadly to Madame de Gontaut, glancing at
the door of his own. The governess replied: "The apartment of
Monsieur is ready, and the chamber of the King as well." The
sovereign paused, then clasping his hands in silence: "It must
be!" he cried. "Let us ascend."