It was a portrait of Madame Montholon, taken many years earlier.
"Yes, it is like her," Betsy admitted, "and beautiful, too."
"She was just like that when she was young," responded the Emperor.
Although Napoleon was fond of teasing Betsy, whenever he found that he could serve her in any way he never failed to show himself a true friend.
Once Dr. O'Meara came upon Betsy alone in the garden with tears in her eyes. To his inquiry as to the cause of her sorrow, she pouted, and at first hesitated in her reply. On second thoughts she exclaimed, "It is too mean! Just because I didn't do my lessons yesterday, to keep me home from the races!"
"Were you warned?"
"Oh, yes, but I did not expect to be punished."
"Probably this isn't the first time, and your parents are bound to make you remember."
"Oh, it is my father, and it's the meanest thing! He has lent Tom to somebody. My pony is not in the stable. Who could have been so mean as to borrow the only pony that I can ride? All the others have ridden off, and there is no way for me to go."
Dr. O'Meara listened sympathetically. Probably he did not exactly understand the situation or he would hardly have encouraged a young girl to disobey her parents. It was quite natural that to Betsy, the lover of gayety, her punishment seemed greater than she deserved. Every one that she knew was going to the races, for the Deadwood races, instituted by John Rous, were made a kind of festival by the people of the island. Since every one she knew had gone to Deadwood, there was no horse at hand that she could borrow. For the moment Napoleon's little neighbor was troubled by no sense of duty; the only question was how to reach Deadwood.