"You may go if you please," said she, "but I shall not. Family
reunions are never agreeable, and the circumstances of this are so
peculiar that even if they had redeeming features this one would be
impossible."

"We call that rebellion--don't you?" asked Bonaparte of Fouche.

"No," said Fouche. "She's right, and it's for your good. If she and
Josephine got chumming and compared notes, I'm rather of the opinion
that there'd be another divorce."

Fouche's reply so enraged the Emperor that he dismissed him from his
post, and the Empire began to fall.

"I leave you at your zenith, Sire," said Fouche. "You send me to
Rome as governor in the hope that I will get the Roman fever and die.
I know it well; but let me tell you that the reaction is nearly due,
and with the loss of your stage manager the farce begins to pall.
Farewell. If you can hook yourself on to your zenith and stay there,
do so, but that you will I don't think."

It was as Fouche said. Perplexities now arose which bade fair to
overwhelm the Emperor. For a moment they cleared away when the
infant son of Marie-Louise and Bonaparte was born, but they broke out
with increasing embarrassment immediately after.

"What has your son-in-law named his boy, Francis Joseph?" asked
Alexander of Russia.

"King of Rome," returned the Austrian.