festival. Ash Wednesday never came in the nuptial calendar of that simple pair.
The Monsieur's closing fête, but for the sad affray between De Cheville and Le Vert, had been a grand affair; but this occasion quite eclipsed its grandeur. Female hands had now been busied with the preparations; female taste had twined the wreaths, and arranged the flowers, and decorated the rooms; and not a guest, of all that company, came in without admiring the proofs of female presence.
Before eight o'clock the house was full; and yet, although the buzz of animated conversation and the ring of merry laughter filled the air, the stated pleasures of the evening had not yet commenced. Monsieur Maillefert and his joyous little wife had quietly slipped away for half an hour or more, but no body was surprised at their absence. They had crossed the street to witness the marriage ceremony between Marie Lafrette and De Cheville, and all knew that they would soon return, bringing with them the happy pair, in whose honor the company was assembled.
Their absence seemed protracted to the waiting throng; but at length the word was passed that they were coming, and a little procession of about a dozen persons, all decked with wreaths and flowers, and in bridal and holiday attire, came marching, in a shadowy though shining train, across the moonlit street. Gay groups of friends assembled at the gate, and welcomed the bride and bridegroom, who led the little cortège. Then came the mother, cheerful and calm, leaning upon the arm of Mr. Beman. The active aunt, with her springing step, kept even pace with her laughing husband. Kisses and congratulations were showered on them all, and jest and laugh went round the groups, as if each were striving to be merrier than all others.
The host's clear voice was now heard calling them within, and—a summons quite as moving—notes of preparation from the fiddles came mellowed through the windows. The company in the large saloon retired to the walls; the Monsieur led De Cheville and his bride, with a grace unrivalled, to the head of the room; the dancers took their places. At a signal from the master, the fiddlers drew their bows with a vigor known only to those primitive days. De
