Still Marie Antoinette could not speak, but the king caught the child up in his arms, saying:
"Marie, he too is our son. He is the Dauphin of France."
Slowly Marie Antoinette turned, clasped his bright, lovely face in her two hands, and stooping, kissed him tenderly on his forehead.
"I had forgotten," she said. "God bless and protect you, Dauphin of France. I only pray that the storm clouds which now darken our sky may be long past, when you ascend the throne of your fathers!"
Little Louis' forehead was wrinkled with perplexity.
"But, mamma," he asked timidly—"why is it you all call me Dauphin to-day, when I am just your little Louis, who is called the Duke of Normandy?"
"My son," said the King, solemnly, "each day differs from the last, and this new day has brought you a new name and a new position. Your poor dear brother has left us for ever. He has gone to God, and you are now in his place, the Dauphin of France."
"And is that why mamma is crying, and will Louis never come back?"
"No, dear, he will never come back, and so your mamma is grieving."
Quickly little Louis' arms went around her neck.