“It is no request,” said Jerome, “the emperor commands it.”
“As for me,” cried la Princesse Borghèse, “I would like to see myself touch her odious mantle!”
“Do not excite yourself, sister,” said the queen of Naples, “this matter does not concern either you or the grande duchesse; you are neither of you queens.”
“But I am more than a parvenue queen,” gasped Pauline, between her sobs, “my husband was a noble from birth.”
“I, for one, will not officiate as the waiting-woman of my sister-in-law,” said the queen of Naples haughtily.
“I could not venture to hint at such a degradation to my wife,—the daughter of the king of Wurtemberg,” declared Jerome.
“Sons and daughters, son-in-law and daughter-in-law,” said Madame Mère, “bear in mind that Napoléoné is accustomed to be obeyed. He is entirely wrong in this matter; but if he is resolved, you will obey.”
“The others may do as they like; but not I, Madame Mère” said the spoiled beauty, Pauline.
“You, like the rest,” replied Madame Bonaparte, with decision.
At that moment the doors were thrown open, and the usher announced, “The Emperor!”