“Yes, indeed, if papa will allow me!” replied the Prince, with sparkling eyes. “Your papa,” answered the King himself, “has not only already given his consent, but is willing for you to receive the young gentlemen who have come to pay their respects to their new Colonel.” “Come already? Where shall I find them?” asked the Prince, eagerly. “In your garden,” replied the King. “M. Daveaux will be good enough to accompany you.” Beaming with joy, the Crown Prince hastened with his tutor to the garden, where he greeted the little deputation, most of whom were not more than four or five years older than himself, with graceful courtesy and announced his readiness to accept the post of Colonel of their regiment. “Now it will be adieu to your flowers and the nosegays for your mamma, I suppose?” said the Abbé. “Oh, no!” returned the Dauphin, gayly, “reviewing my Grenadiers will not prevent me from taking care of my flowers. Some of these young soldiers have little gardens of their own; they will love the Queen, too, like their Colonel, and in the future, instead of a single one, mamma will receive a whole regiment of bouquets every day.” The little soldiers loudly applauded their new commander’s speech, and the best relations were at once established between them and continued without a break for several weeks. His small Guards afforded the Prince the greatest pleasure, until they were dispersed in the stormy times which soon followed. By this time the day was considerably advanced, and the Abbé was obliged to remind his pupil that his mother would be waiting for him and he must dismiss the envoys of the Regiment of the Dauphin. The Prince gave his hand courteously to his little comrades and followed his tutor to the Queen’s apartment. His reception, however, was by no means such as he expected. His mother greeted him with a very serious face and gave him only her cheek to kiss instead of the usual embrace. Prince Louis Charles, who was acutely sensitive, perceived at once that something was amiss and looked at his mother timidly and somewhat perplexed. “What fault have I committed now, mamma?” he asked. “Ah, the young gentleman’s conscience troubles him already,” replied the Queen. “Perhaps he can tell me about the trick that was played on the page who attended him yesterday on the terrace. I hope he will not attempt to deny it!” The Prince’s delicate face grew crimson, for he remembered very well to what his mother referred. The day before, while they were walking together, he had mischievously taken a flute from his companion’s pocket and hidden it in a fir-tree on the terrace. In a faltering voice he confessed his guilt.