o often calls him "The Pasha," instead of "The Captain," which
is the title she always gave him formerly, everything has resumed the
harmonious tranquillity of the best regulated household. Attentions,
politenesses, gallantries, &c., are quite the order of the day. Only he
is ruining me with all the presents he lavishes upon her; and I have
been forced to make serious complaints on the subject to my aunt, who
has laughed insanely at them, maintaining that it is "the sinner's
ransom." Still, some kind of restrictions are necessary in families, and
I have warned her that, if it continues, I shall stop "the late
Barbassou's" credit, seeing that he is dead.

"You see what a simple matter it is, as my uncle says," I added.

But she only laughed again, louder than ever. We have got on no further.

Louis, go and hang yourself! I was married yesterday, and you were not
there!

The ceremony was very fine. It was at the church of Sainte Clotilde; all
the Faubourg St. Germain was there, delighted at Kondje-Gul's
conversion, and with her beauty, her charming manners, and the romance
connected with our marriage. Everyone was there who has made any name in
the world of art, not to speak of that of finance. There was Baron
Rothschild, who had a long conversation with my uncle. Three special
correspondents for London newspapers were present, and all our own Paris
reporters. High Mass, full choral; Faure sang his _Pie Jesus_, Madame
Carvalho and Adelina Patti the _Credo_.

At the entrance, the crowd nearly crushed us. Barbassou-Pasha, Count of
Monteclaro, gave his arm to the bride. Poor Kondje, what agitation, what
emotion, what delight she evinced! I escorted Madame Murrah in a
splendid costume, tamed but very dignified still, and playing her part
with noble airs, like a fatalist. "It was written!" She started off the
same day to Rhodes, where my uncle is finding a position for her--as
head manager of his Botany Bay.

The Countess of Monteclaro was there, and Anna Campbell was smiling all
over as she acted, in company with Maud and Susannah Montague, as
bridesmaid to her friend Kondje-Gul.

It took them all exactly an hour to pass in procession through the
vestry. We had to sign the register there, and my uncle headed it with
his self-assumed title of "_The late_ Barbassou," to which he clings.

Then came the deluge of congratulations, my beautiful Christian wife
blushing in her emotion, with her garland of orange-flowers. (W