A general laugh followed; even Madame de Permont, ordinarily so good and so considerate, could not suppress laughter.  The witty words of the little school-girl were too keen and too applicable that she should be subjected to reproach.

Napoleon’s wrath was indescribable.  His visage was overspread with a yellow-greenish pallor, his lips were contracted nervously, and already opened for a word of anger.  But he suppressed that word with an effort; for though not yet familiar with all the forms and usages of society, his fine tact and the instinct of what was becoming told him that when the conversation ran into personalities the best plan was to be silent, and that he must not return personal remarks, since his opponent was one of the fair sex.  He therefore remained silent, and so controlled himself as to join in the general laughter and to show himself heartily amused at the unfortunate nickname of the little Cecilia.

And that every one might be convinced how much he himself had been amused at this little scene, he brought, a few days afterward, to the youngest daughter of Madame de Permont, a charming little toy which he had had made purposely for her.  This toy consisted of a small gilt and richly-ornamented carriage of papier-mache, before which leaped along a very lovely puss in boots.

To this present for the little Lolotte (afterward Duchess d’Abrantes), was added for Cecilia an elegant and interesting edition of the tales of “Puss in Boots,” and when Napoleon politely presented it to the young maid he begged her to receive kindly this small souvenir from him.

“That is too much,” said Madame de Permont, shaking her head.  “The toy for Loulou would have been quite enough.  But this present to Cecilia shows that you took her jest in earnest, and were hurt by it.”

Napoleon, however, affirmed that he had not taken the jest in earnest, that he had been no wise hurt by it; that he himself when he put on his uniform had to laugh at the nickname of “puss in boots” which dear Cecilia had given him.

He had, however, endeavored no more to deserve this nickname, and the unlucky boots were replaced by much smaller and closer-fitting ones.

A few days after this little incident the young second lieutenant left Paris and went to meet his regiment La Fere at Valence.

A life of labor and study, of hopes and dreams, now began for the young lieutenant.  He gave himself up entirely to his military service, and pursued earnest, scientific studies in regard to it.  Mathematics, the science of war, geometry, and finally politics, were the objects of his zeal; but alongside of these he read and studied earnestly the works of Voltaire, Corneille, Racine, Montaigne, the Abbe Raynal, and, above all, the works of Jean Jacques Rousseau, whose passionate and enthusiastic disciple Napoleon Bonaparte was at that time. [Footnote:  “Memoires du Roi Joseph,” vol. i., p. 33.]