The queen passed straight into the chapel; she was bowed down with grief, though she did not shed a tear. That time was passed, and she seemed stupefied. One of the nuns approached and asked in the words of the psalmist, "My soul, will you not be subject to God?" {312}"His will be done," replied the queen, in a tremulous voice. Prostrating herself before the altar, she remained long in prayer. At last the nuns begged her to eat, for she had partaken of no food since the night before, and they feared she would faint. She was led to her bedroom, but insisted on hearing more prayers, and complained that she could not weep, saying "that even that solace was denied her." Her attendants were sent to bed, but two of the nuns passed the night with the queen, who moaned and sighed and prayed by turns with scarcely a moment's repose. The next night the king's heart was conveyed to Chaillot and placed near that of his mother; but by King Louis's order it was received so quietly that Mary Beatrice was not excited by it. However, a few hours later she assured the abbess that she felt it was near her, and spoke a great deal about her dead husband. Among other things, she said: "That he had felt his humiliation, and above all the injustice he had experienced, very keenly; but that the love of God had changed all his calamities into blessings." Mary Beatrice would have liked to pass the rest of her days at Chaillot, but she had other duties to perform and many more years to live. In his will King James had directed that he should be buried with his ancestors at Westminster Abbey; therefore the queen ordered that the funeral service should be performed in France, but that the body should remain unburied until the restoration of her son, which she fondly hoped would soon take place. It was therefore at the chapel of the Benedictine Monks that the corpse of King James remained covered with the pall for many years, until all hope for the Stuart family had vanished forever. The queen remained at Chaillot only four days, for her {313}children needed her at St. Germain, and she returned to them on the nineteenth of September. The next day King Louis called on her, and she received him in a darkened room hung with black. He tried very hard to console the widowed queen by kind offers of protection to her and her son, and insisted upon her receiving the same courtesy from his ministers as though she had been queen regent really and not only in name.