All is well.

Nothing is wanting to your husband's happiness, save the love of Josephine.
She sprang to her feet.

"And she, wife of a hero, was in common intrigue with Hippolyte Charles at the time! She had a conqueror, a splendid adventurer, and coming emperor, for a husband, and she loved him not.

I--I could have knelt to him--worshipped him.

I"-- With a little hysterical, disdainful laugh, as of the soul at itself, she leaned upon the window, looking into the village below, alternately smiling and frowning at the thought of this adventurer down at the Louis Quinze.
"Yet, who can tell?
Disraeli was half mountebank at the start," she said.