ccount of the Emperor's passionate expectation.
During these days his occupations were singularly human. Much of the
time was spent in trying on gorgeous clothes: gold-laced coats, and
embroidered waistcoats, which had been sent by Paris tailors. Some of
it was passed in the acquisition of accomplishments, notably in
learning to waltz. Every day he sent a letter with flowers to meet the
new Empress at every stage of her progress, and every day he received
a reply from her written in correct French.

At last she reached the close of the final stage, and her bridegroom
went out to meet her. Half-way between Soissons and Compiegne were
pitched three splendid pavilions. Her suite was to remain in that
nearest their last lodging, his in that nearest the palace, the bridal
pair were to meet in the central tent, where, according to the custom
of feudalism, she was to kneel and pay homage to her liege as his
foremost subject. But when the Emperor heard that his bride was so
near, his impatience seemed to break through all bounds. Entering his
carriage without ceremony or warning, and attended by only a single
companion, the King of Naples, he drove far past Soissons until the
carriages met, when he stepped out of his own, tore open the door of
the other, and entered with the eagerness of a youthful lover to
embrace his bride. The prearranged stops were countermanded, and the
same evening, at ten, the wedding-train reached Compiegne. Such was
the lover's ardor that he again flung propriety to the winds, and,
claiming the validity of the procuratorial ceremony at Vienna, slept
under the same roof with his bride, instead of in the chamber
furnished for his use in one of the administrative buildings. As an
excuse for this conduct he pleaded the example of Henry IV.

Next day the ladies and gentlemen of the Empress's court were
presented, and formally took the oath of office. On the morrow St.
Cloud was reached in the imperial progress; and two days later, on
April first, the civil ceremony of marriage was performed in the
presence of all the great dignitaries of the empire, including all the
cardinals but two. Excepting only those who pleaded their age or
infirmities, the entire college had been transplanted from Rome to
Paris shortly after the seizure of the Pope. There was the usual
festival at night, accompanied by salvos of artillery, with
illuminations of the palace grounds and fountains. The weather, like
the date, was unto