I have received one of your letters, my dear grandmother, which gave me great pleasure; the assurances of your affection bring me consolation. I have great need of it in my present state. Adieu; I write so slowly that the shortest letters take me a great deal of time. [At the close of the year 1703 her father, Vittorio Amadeo, had entered the alliance against France; the battle of Ramillies was fought May 23, 1706, and the French were defeated at Turin September 7 of the same year.] MARLY, June 21, 1706. I can be no longer, my dear grandmother, without sharing all our troubles with you. Imagine my anxiety as to what is happening with you, loving you as I do very tenderly and having all possible affection for my father, my mother, and my brothers. I cannot think of them in so unhappy a position without tears in my eyes, for assuredly, my dear grandmother, I feel for all that concerns you, and I see by all that is in me to what point my love for my family goes. My health is not so much injured as it might be; I am pretty well, but in a state of sadness which no amusement can lessen, and which will never leave me, my dear grandmother, for it serves to comfort me in my present state. Do not deprive me, I conjure you, of your letters. They give me much pleasure; I need them in the state I am in. Send me news of all that is dearest to me in the world. MARLY, July 25, 1706. I have not written, my dear grandmother, not knowing if you are still with my mother, being unable to obtain the slightest information. You know my heart; imagine therefore the state I am in. I feel for yours; I cannot be reconciled to your trials; I see them increasing with extreme sorrow; there is not a day when I do not feel them keenly, and weep in thinking of what my dear family--whom I would give my life to comfort--is suffering. I am glad, my dear grandmother, that the fatigues of so sad and painful a journey [the removal of the royal family from Turin before the siege] has not injured your health. I pity my mother, who, for additional sorrow, is anxious about the illness of her children and yet is obliged to travel with them in such excessive heat and over such dreadful roads. I have no other comfort, my dear grandmother, than in receiving your letters and the assurance of your affection. We all need great courage to sustain such violent griefs as those we have had of late. God is trying me by ways in which I feel it most; I must resign myself to His will, and pray that He will soon withdraw us from the state in which we are. As for me, I feel I cannot bear it longer if He does not give me strength. VERSAILLES, March, 1707.