"And the Luxembourg garden?" asked Marie Louise, who, after two years, still remembered her walks.
Trembling, Elizabeth took the children there. He crossed it every day, no doubt, and they might meet him there. She hastened to return to the hotel. The day after her arrival she dictated this letter to her daughter:
"My dear Papa:
"I am in Paris with mamma, and Philippe too. We are here to see a doctor. But you will come to see us. We must go away soon, so you must hurry.
"I send you kisses. Your daughter,
"MARIE LOUISE."
The excuse about the doctor had not been invented. The young woman had wished to take advantage of her trip to consult a specialist about the nervous temperament of the little girl, who was strong, but too impressionable, perhaps because she had understood her mother's sorrow, and the peculiarity of her childish life. The doctor had comforted her, advising the fresh air of the country and very little study. Then he turned abruptly to her:
"But you yourself, Madame? Take care; you must take care of yourself."
"Oh, I ..." Elizabeth said indifferently.
"Yes, you. Let me examine you."