ever! never! Were I not sure of my resolution, I would tear out this
heart and cast it into the fire."

Eugene had returned with Napoleon. He loved his mother to adoration.
Anxiously he sat at the window watching, hour after hour, for her
arrival. At midnight on the 19th the rattle of her carriage-wheels was
heard, as she entered the court-yard of their dwelling in the Rue
Chantereine. Eugene rushed to his mother's arms. Napoleon had ever been
the most courteous of husbands. Whenever Josephine returned, even from
an ordinary morning drive, he would leave any engagements to greet her
as she alighted from her carriage. But now, after an absence of eighteen
months, he remained sternly in his chamber, the victim of almost
unearthly misery.

In a state of terrible agitation, with limbs tottering and heart
throbbing, Josephine, assisted by Eugene and accompanied by Hortense,
ascended the stairs to the parlor where she had so often received the
caresses of her husband. She opened the door. Napoleon stood before her,
pale, motionless as a marble statue. Without one kind word of greeting
he said sternly, in words which pierced her heart,

"Madame, it is my wish that you retire immediately to Malmaison."

The meek and loving Josephine uttered not a word. She would have fallen
senseless to the floor, had she not been caught in the arms of her son.
It was midnight. For a week she had lived in her carriage almost without
sleep. She was in a state of utter exhaustion, both of body and of mind.
It was twelve miles to Malmaison. Napoleon had no idea that she would
leave the house until the morning. Much to his surprise, he soon heard
the carriage in the yard, and Josephine, accompanied by Eugene and
Hortense, descending the stairs. The naturally kind heart of Napoleon
could not assent to such cruelty. Immediately going down into the yard,
though his pride would not permit him to speak to Josephine, he
addressed Eugene, and requested them all to return for refreshment and
repose.

In silent submission, Eugene and Hortense conducted their mother to her
apartment, where she threw herself upon her couch in abject misery. In
equally sleepless woe, Napoleon retired to his cabinet. Two days of
wretchedness passed away. On the third, the love for Josephine, which
still reigned in the heart of Napoleon, so far triumphed that he
entered her apartment. Josephine was seated at a toilette-table, with
her head bowed, and her eyes buried in her