I took advantage of this improvement to order my carriage, to send Madame Beauharnais home in it, and thus I was rid of her. 'In your indisposed state you cannot return home alone,' I said to her. I ordered one of my aides-de-camp to accompany her. Her tears had suddenly dried up; her features so discomposed but a moment ago had resumed their placidity and pretty ways, and their habitual coquettishness. On returning my aide-de-camp told that the lady reached her house in excellent health. A few sighs had escaped her during the drive homeward, and the only words spoken by her had been, 'Why do people have a heart over which they have no control? Why did I ever love a man like Barras? How can I cease loving him? How can I tear myself from him? How can I think of any other but him? Tell him from me, I entreat you, how deeply I am devoted to him; that I will never love but him, whatever happens to me in this world . . . . ' My aide-de-camp further informed me that just as the carriage reached Madame Beauharnais' house, Bonaparte was there waiting for her at the door. Embarrassed at being accompanied by my aide-de-camp, Madame Beauharnais hurriedly steps out of the carriage, asks Bonaparte to give her his arm, and tells him hastily in the presence of my aide-de-camp, whom she called to witness, that she had just 'had a fainting fit at my house; that she had so suffered that I would not hear of her returning home alone,
