"
"Well, dear 'Quiou," asked the boy, in a triumphant tone, turning
toward Madame de Montesquiou--"did I not tell you so?--The usher
would not admit me, papa, though I told him I am the King of Rome!"
"He ran away from me," said the governess, "in the first anteroom,
and so fast that I could not follow him."
"It was because I wanted to see my dear papa emperor," cried the
child, fixing his eyes with an expression of indescribable
tenderness on his father.
"But that was the reason, sire," said the governess, "why the usher
would not immediately open the door to you. He did not know whether
he was allowed to do so, and waited, therefore, until I came."
"But why did he not know that he was allowed to do so?" cried the
little king, impetuously. "Did I not tell him, 'I WILL it, I am the
King of Rome?' Pray tell me, papa emperor, do not the ushers obey
you either when you say, 'I will it?'"
The emperor laughed as loudly and merrily as he had done in the days
of his prosperity, and the ministers and Baron Fontaine joined
heartily in his mirth; even Madame de Montesquiou could not suppress
a faint smile. The boy saw it, and asked hastily, "Why do you laugh,
'Quiou? Did I say any thing ridiculous?"
"No, rather something charming," said the emperor, smiling, laying
his hand on the blond head of his child, and pressing it closer to
his breast.
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