difficult. It required the exercise of
authority to sever the ties that bound the son to the father. But it
was done--Victor resigned his task to a little dog that was procured
by the merchant, and after an agonizing farewell was whirled away in
Marmont's carriage.

Years passed on. Victor outstripped all his companions at school, and
stood at the head of the military academy; for he was striving to win
a name and fortune for his father. The good Marmont, from time to
time, endeavored to obtain tidings of the soldier; but the latter had
purposely changed his usual route, and, satisfied that his son was in
good hands, felt a sort of pride in not intruding his poverty and
misfortunes on the notice of Victor's new companions. The boy,
himself, was much distressed at not seeing or hearing from his father;
but he kept struggling on, saying to himself, "_Courage, Victor--le
bon temps viendra_--the good time will come."

On the death of Marmont, he entered the army as a sub-lieutenant, and
fought his way up to a captaincy under the eye of the emperor. At the
close of a brilliant campaign he was invited to pass a few weeks at
the chateau of a general officer named Duvivier, a few leagues from
Paris. The company there was brilliant, composed of all that was most
beautiful, talented, and distinguished in the circle in which the
general moved. But the "star of that goodly company" was Julie
Duvivier, the youthful and accomplished daughter of the general. Many
distinguished suitors contended for the honor of her hand; but the
moment Victor appeared, they felt they had a formidable rival. The
belle of the chateau could not help showing her decided preference for
him, though, with a modesty and delicacy natural to his position, he
refrained from making any decided advances.

One night, however, transported beyond himself by passion, he betrayed
the secret of his heart to Julie, as he led her to her seat after an
intoxicating waltz. The reception of his almost involuntary avowal was
such as to convince him that his affection was returned. But he felt
that he had done wrong--and a high sense of honor induced the young
soldier immediately to seek the general, and make him a party to his
wishes.

He found him alone in the embrasure of a window that opened on the
garden of the chateau.

"General," said he, with military frankness, "I love your daughter."

The general started, and cast a glance of displeasure on the young
man.