“Yes, I flatter myself!” said Murat, gazing into the long mirror before which _la Princesse Borghèse_ was paying court to her own beauty; “but do you know, fair ladies, that you are about to be disgraced in the eyes of all Europe?” continued Murat, holding up a printed paper. “What is it?” exclaimed all in a breath. “Read!—_mesdames les reines!_” replied Murat, “and you will learn that _all, queens as you are_, you will to-morrow, in the chapel of the Louvre, during the marriage ceremony, have the honor of bearing the train of the imperial mantle of your august sister-in-law.” “Napoleon can never request of us such an insulting office,” said one. “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!” It was in vain that Pauline tried to conceal her tears of rage; or that the queen of Naples endeavored to smooth her ruffled brow; or that Murat hastily sheathed his splendid sword, which he had just drawn in mock defiance to the imperial command. “_Madame la Princesse Borghèse!_ explain what all this means,” said Napoleon, with severity. “My sisters and I do not think it proper to carry the mantle of your wife,” Pauline exclaimed defiantly. “What! do you all refuse?” asked the emperor. “I cannot disgrace my crown,” sobbed Caroline Murat. “I will not publicly outrage my unhappy mother!” bravely said Hortense.