Once, when I was very young, I went up to Paris with my father and my sister Caroline.

We were in the Rue Richelieu, and we saw the king pass in his carriage.

Who would have thought that the little boy from Corsica, who took his hat off and stared, was destined to be the next monarch of France?
And yet even then I felt as if that carriage ought to belong to me.

What is it, Constant ?' The discreet valet bent down and whispered something to the Emperor.
'Ah, of course,' said he.

'It was an appointment.