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Gonthier served them with a well-cooled bottle and then tactfully disappeared. Josephine raised her glass and sipped gratefully. She had not followed her husband’s suggestion and worn the mousseline de soie. Her wedding dress was of beige satin and, when she gracefully crossed one knee over the other, she accented what was called a gros de Tours, a ribbed band of heavy material carrying wreaths of flowers. It was somewhat ornate but well suited to her unusual type of beauty.

“I don’t understand this,” she said, frowning. “How did it come about? When I said ‘no’ to you so often, I meant it every time. I didn’t intend to marry you.”

“What you thought and said had no bearing on the case,” declared Napoleon. “It was destined that you were to marry me. There was nothing you could do to influence the result.”

“Destined?” Her frown deepened. “Do you mean by God? Or the fates?”

“By me,” said Napoleon.

He had emptied his glass quickly and had placed it back on the tray. It was clear he did not desire more.

Josephine laughed. “Really, I cannot concede that I am a mere pawn in your hands.”

Napoleon’s eyes seemed to grow in size and to glow with an increased intensity. “Josephine, I am afraid to put into words the things for which we are destined. You and I are going to scale great heights together. Are you prepared for the climb?”

“You frighten me! I don’t think I am suited for such great heights. I don’t want to be the wife of a Director or the commander of all the armies. Or a—a king!”

He relaxed sufficiently to allow a fleeting smile to cross his face. “What kind of life do you want, mio dolce amor?”

“A life of ease. An affluent life. I want to be able to buy anything I see without giving a thought to the cost. I want to have wardrobes full of expensive clothes. Oh, how I want dainty and beautiful things! Gowns to make all other women green with envy, sweet little hats, shoes that I will never wear more than once, jewelry! Yes, and fine beds to sleep in and gorgeous cabinets and wonderful paintings on the walls. I don’t care to have money in my purse, because it’s really a nuisance. I want it to be something that appears by magic when the need to pay bills arises—but which I need not see. I want gardens full of flowers and the finest harp ever strung. And I want good marriages for my children. That is what I want—and I don’t care for titles. Oh, well, not enough to struggle for them. And I’m quite willing to let others sit in the tall chairs of the great.”

“All these things, my frivolous but adorable wife, you shall have. I intend to make you the most pampered consort in the world. But this life of luxury will be obtained only by climbing the heights of which I spoke.”

She asked plaintively, “Must I always be with you when you are doing the climbing?”

“Of course. I will lead the way but you must come behind, clutching my coattails if you find it necessary, and shutting your eyes so you won’t see the frightful abyss on each side. You won’t need to know the risks we are taking.”

“I am more frightened now! Could it not be arranged for me to follow later? By comfortable, level roads? In a closed carriage, perhaps?”

“Sometimes that way may be possible and even advisable. But when it comes to the important moments, my Josephine, you must be either by my side or immediately behind.”

Napoleon was thinking, while they talked: “What an absurd and selfish little creature! But she is Josephine and I love her with all her faults. I wouldn’t have her changed!” There can be no doubt that the new bride found a share of the fascination in all these grandiose plans and claims but it was equally certain that she considered them a form of boasting. At any rate, she suddenly realized that she was very tired. She concealed a yawn with the back of one hand.

“It has been a long day,” she said. “I feel ready for bed.”

“I,” exclaimed Napoleon, “am filled with unquenchable energy and with ambitions quite different from what we have been discussing.”

Josephine had helped herself to a second glass of wine and she smiled archly over the rim. “In that case—” She motioned toward the door of the bedroom which stood ajar. “Everything is ready. There is a warm fire in the grate and another bottle, if we want it, on a serving table. I think there are biscuits. The bed has been turned down.” She paused. “I must explain. It is a most comfortable bed but it is not large. It will hold two. But three, no.”

“Three? I don’t understand.”

“Fortuné! She always sleeps with me.”

Napoleon’s indignation at this point passed all bounds. “That incredible dog! Are you hinting that I must be content with a hard couch in some miserable corner, or perhaps even a chair?”

“No, no. Not, that is, if you can manage to persuade Fortuné to relinquish her place.”

Napoleon got to his feet. “That,” he declared, “will not be hard.”

“You must be gentle with the poor little thing!” protested Josephine.

He was as gentle as possible under the circumstances. Finding the small dog curled up comfortably at the foot of the beautifully appointed bed, and snoring loudly, he lifted it up and clamped it firmly under one arm. Locating the room where Gonthier slept, he received sleepy directions which led him to a harness room, opening off the stables at the rear of the premises. Here he placed his wife’s pet on an old blanket, which he was pleased to see was quite ragged and moldy, and closed the door carefully. He resumed to find Josephine seated before a mirror and doing something to her hair.

Napoleon did not like heavy perfumes but he had been conscious of a pleasant aroma in the room which did not offend his critical sense. It came, he now saw, from a bathtub of a rather fantastic design in one corner. He peered over the screens which partly obscured it. Josephine had been quick to enjoy a brief bath while he was finding a bed for the dog. Several intimate articles of clothing lay on the floor.

He then became aware that another tub had been placed behind screens in an opposite corner. This, obviously, was for his use. He felt very much relieved because he was becoming embarrassingly aware of his heavy uniform and knee-length army boots, and also of the fact that he had worked unceasingly all day. The tub was not substantial enough to bear his weight while he undressed, so he had to squat on the floor while tugging at the boots. The water proved quite warm and he felt a certain reluctance about splashing loudly. His bath, although thorough, was quickly finished, therefore.

Josephine was in bed when he emerged from behind the screen, her dark long lashes veiling her eyes. She was, he thought, more lovely than any of the expensive possessions she hoped to have showered upon her. He blew out the candles before approaching the bed.

Perhaps he had not closed the door of the harness room as securely as he thought or it may have been that Fortuné discovered some other means of exit. At any rate she found herself free after an hour of embittered barking, of which only the faintest echoes had reached the nuptial couch. Her small frame shook with indignation when she discovered that all the space in the bed was in use and that the occupants were still awake.

Napoleon had not heard her arrive and his first intimation that there were now three in the bed was when he experienced a very sharp pain.

Fortuné had bitten him on the shin!

The Last Love

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