all with a last soft look, a last inclination of the head,
nothing could be heard but weeping, and even those who rejoiced over her
downfall, because they hoped much from the new empress and the new
dynasty, were now moved to tears by this silent and yet so eloquent
leave-taking.

The sacrifice was accomplished. Napoleon had sacrificed his dearest
possession to ambition; he had divorced himself from Josephine.

On the same day she left the Tuileries to repair to Malmaison, her
future home--to Malmaison, that had once been the paradise, and was now
to be the widow's seat, of her love.

Josephine left the court, but the hearts of those who constituted this
court did not leave her. During the next few weeks the crowds of the
coming and going on the road from Paris to Malmaison presented the
appearance of a procession; the equipages of all the kings and princes
who were sojourning in Paris, and of all the nobles and dignitaries of
the new France, were to be seen there. Even the Faubourg St.-Germain,
that still preserved its sympathy for the Bourbons, repaired to the
empress at Malmaison. And this pilgrimage was made by the poor and
humble, as well as by the rich and great. All wished to say to the
empress that they still loved and honored her, and that she was still
enthroned in their hearts, although her rule on the throne was at
an end.

The whole peo