"Sire," she said,
"I promise you that I will send for your poor man and give him so
much money that he will never again be wretched."
"Oh!" exclaimed the prince, encircling the lady's neck with his
arms, "how good you are, madame, and how I love you!"
Josephine pressed his head to her bosom. "Oh, you may certainly love
me a little," she replied, with a touching smile; "I have really
deserved it of you."
"Sire," said the emperor, advancing a few steps, "now bid the lady
farewell. We must go."
"Papa!" cried the boy, joyously--"papa, we must take the dear lady
with us; she is so good, and I love her. Let her live with us in the
Tuileries, and always stay with us. I want her to do so, and you,
too, papa, do you not?"
Josephine's eyes filled with tears, and she looked at the emperor
with an expression of unutterable woe. He immediately averted his
face, perhaps to prevent Josephine from noticing his emotion. "Come,
sire," he said imperiously, "it is high time; it is growing dark.
Take leave of madame!"
"Oh, no; I will not take leave of her!" cried the boy, vehemently.
"I say to her rather--Come with us to the Tuileries!"
"It cannot be, sire," said Josephine, smiling amidst her tears.
"Why?" cried the boy, impatiently, and throwing back his head.
"Come; you may accompany the emperor, and I want you to do so!"
Napoleon, painfully moved by this scene, quickly advanced to the
prince, and took his hand.
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