stival given by Joseph Bonaparte, then its
owner, to his imperial brother.

In St. Denis there were still more sacred and beautiful remembrances for
Hortense, for here was situated the great college for the daughters of
high military officers, of which Hortense had been the protectress. She
dared not show herself, for she well knew that she was not forgotten
here; here there were many who still knew and loved her, and she could
only show herself to strangers. But she nevertheless visited the church,
and descended with Louis Napoleon into the vaults. Louis XVIII. alone
reposed in the halls which the empire had restored for the reception of
the new family of rulers, adopted by France. Alas! he who built these
halls, the Emperor Napoleon, now reposed under a weeping-willow on a
desolate island in the midst of the sea, and he who had deposed him now
occupied the place intended for the sarcophagus of the emperor.

While wandering through these silent and gloomy halls, Hortense thought
of the day on which she had come hither with the emperor to inspect the
building of the church. And that time she had been ill and suffering,
and with the fullest conviction she had said to her mother that she,
Queen Hortense, would be the first that would be laid to rest in the
vault of St. Denis. Now, after so many years, she descended into it
living and had hardly a right to visit it.

But there was another grave, another monument to her memories, beside
which Hortense desired to pray. This was the grave of the Empress
Josephine, in the church at Ruelle.

With what emotions did she approach this place and kneel down beside the
grave-mound! Of all that Josephine had loved, there remained only
Hortense and her son, a solitary couple, who were now secretly visiting
the place where Hortense's mother reposed. The number of flowers that
adorned the monument proved that Josephine was at least resting in the
midst of friends, who still held her memory sacred, and this was a
consolation for her daughter.

From Ruelle and its consecrated grave they wandered on to Malmaison.
Above all, Hortense wished to show this palace to her son! It was from
this place that Napoleon had departed to leave France forever! Here
Hortense had had the pleasure of sweetening for him, by her tender
sympathy, the moment when all the world had abandoned him--the moment
when he fell from the heights of renown into the abyss of misfortune.
But, alas! the poor queen was not