Five years after the second Restoration the Duc de Berri was assassinated at the Opéra. The Duchess of Angoulême was one of those immediately summoned to the ante-room of the Opera House, where her brother-in-law lay dying. Her husband, fearing some danger, would have restrained her from accompanying him, but she felt her place was there. “What,” exclaims Châteaubriand, “were dangers to her, who was accustomed to look revolution in the face!” Herself overcome with grief, she paid a noble tribute to the fortitude of the Duchesse de Berri. “She is sublime,” she said more than once; and, bending over the dying man, she said, “Courage, brother; and if God calls you hence, ask my father there to pray for France and for us.” When, six months after his father’s death, the only son of the Duc and Duchesse de Berri was born, it was the Duchess of Angoulême, to whom the blessing of children had been denied, who showed the infant to the people assembled before the palace windows with every sign of joy and delight. The death of Louis XVIII. in 1824 made the Duchess of Angoulême Dauphine of France. But her life continued as retired as ever, and she spent much of her time in watching over the early years of her little nephew, the Duc de Bordeaux. After six comparatively uneventful years the storm broke which doomed her to a final exile. The duchess was at Dijon when a hostile reception at the theatre announced to her that there was once more a revolution. Travelling all night with one or two attendants to Versailles, she made her way in the disguise of a peasant to St. Cloud, only to find that the King was at Rambouillet. “Can you forgive me?” cried Charles X. as he met his niece. Her answer was an embrace. “I trust,” she said, “we are now united for ever.” The King abdicated, and the Duc d’Angoulême surrendered his claims in favour of the little Duc de Bordeaux, while Louis Philippe of Orleans was to be Lieutenant-General during the prince’s minority. But the Chamber of Deputies declared for Louis Philippe. After some little hesitation, he consented to become “King of the French,” and there was nothing left for Charles X. but to depart. Escorted by the commissioners sent by the new king for the purpose, the royal family passed with slow stateliness on their way to the sea coast, taking a fortnight in reaching Cherbourg. The last pageant of the departing dynasty was witnessed for the most part with silent respect. The little Duc de Bordeaux and his sister, ignorant of the meaning of it all, stood at the carriage windows, bowing and kissing their hands in their childish way to the people, and the sight of the children made the tears start to many eyes. The Duchess of Angoulême sat in one of the carriages, silent and alone, save for a lady-in-waiting. It seemed a hard fate that condemned her once more to exile. It was the 16th of August, 1830, when they embarked for England, and it was characteristic of the duchess that she