arseilles she pursued him with the most passionate protestations.

"Yes," she wrote, "I swear, dear Stanislas, never to love any other than
thee; my heart knows no divided allegiance. It is thine alone. Who could
oppose the union of two souls who seek to find no other happiness than
in a mutual love?" And again, "Thou knowest how I worship thee. It is
not possible for Paulette to live apart from her adored Stanislas. I
love thee for ever, most passionately, my beautiful god, my adorable
one--I love thee, love thee, love thee!"

In such hot words this child of fifteen poured out her soul to the Paris
dandy. "Neither mamma," she vowed, "nor anyone in the world shall come
between us." But Pauline had not counted on her brother Napoleon, whose
foot was now placed on the ladder of ambition, at the top of which was
an Imperial crown, and who had other designs for his sister than to
marry her to a penniless nobody. In vain did Pauline rage and weep, and
declare that "she would die--_voila tout!_" Napoleon was inexorable; and
the flower of her first romance was trodden ruthlessly under his feet.

When Junot, his own aide-de-camp, next came awooing Pauline, he was
equally obdurate. "No," he said to the young soldier; "you have nothing,
she has nothing. And what is twice nothing?" And thus lover number two
was sent away disconsolate.

Napoleon's sun was now in the ascendant, and his family were basking in
its rays. From the Marseilles slums they were transported first to a
sumptuous villa at Antibes; then to the Castle of Montebello, at Naples.
The days of poverty were gone like an evil dream; the sisters of the
famous General and coming Emperor were now young ladies of fashion,
courted and fawned on. Their lovers were not Marseilles tradesmen or
obscure soldiers and journalists (like Junot and Freron), but brilliant
Generals and men of the great world; and among them Napoleon now sought
a husband for his prettiest and most irresponsible sister.

This, however, proved no easy task. When he offered her to his favourite
General, Marmont, he was met with a polite refusal. "She is indeed
charming and lovely," said Marmont; "but I fear I could not make her
happy." Then, waxing bolder, he continued: "I have dreams of domestic
happiness, of fidelity, virtue; and these dreams I can scarcely hope to
realise in your sister." Albert Permon, Napoleon's old schoolfellow,
next declined the honour of Pauline's hand, although it held the bait