h tearful eyes at her own portrait. "It seems we are still
remembered," whispered she, in a low voice. "Those who wear crowns are
not to be envied, and should not lament their loss; but is it possible
that the love of the people, to receive which is so sweet, has not yet
been wholly withdrawn from us?"

The profound indifference with which France had accepted the exile of
the Bonapartes had grieved her deeply. She had only longed for some
token of love and fidelity in order that she might go back into exile
consoled and strengthened. And now she found it. France proved to her
through these portraits that she was not forgotten.

Hortense stepped with her companion into the store to purchase the
portraits of herself and of the emperor; and when she was told that
these portraits were in great demand, and that many of them were sold to
the people, she hardly found strength to repress the tears of blissful
emotion that rose from her heart to her eyes. She took the portraits and
hastened home, to show them to her son and to bring to him with them the
love-greetings of France. While the duchess, her thoughts divided
between the remembrances of the past and the cares and troubles of the
present, had been sojourning in Paris for twelve days, all the papers
were extolling the heroism of the duchess in having saved her son, and
of her having embarked at Malta in order to take him to England.

Even the king's ministerial council occupied itself with this matter,
and thought it proper to make representations to his majesty on the
subject. Marshal Sebastiani informed the king that the Duchess of St.
Leu, to his certain knowledge, had landed at Corfu. With lively
interest he spoke of the fatiguing journey at sea that the duchess would
be compelled to make, and asked almost timidly if she might not be
permitted to travel through France.

The king's countenance assumed an almost sombre look, and he replied,
dryly: "Let her continue her journey." Casimir Perrier bowed his head
over the paper that lay before him, in order to conceal his mirth, and
minister Barthe availed himself of the opportunity to give a proof of
his eloquence and of his severity, by observing that a law existed
against the duchess, and that a law was a sacred thing that no one
should be permitted to evade.

But the presence of the duchess, although kept a secret, began to cause
the king and his premier Casimir Perrier more and more uneasiness. The
latter had alre