through some happy dream that has vanished only too quickly and
out of which I recall dimly but half its incidents.
That was a merry procession of old friends that marched to the ruddy
mayor's where there was the civil marriage and some madeira, and so on
to the little gray church where Monsieur le Cure was waiting--that musty
old church in which the tall candles burned and Monsieur le Cure's voice
sounded so grave and clear. And we sat together, the good old general
and I, and in front of us were Alice's old friend Germaine, chic and
pretty in her sables, and Blondel, who had left his unfinished editorial
and driven hard to be present, and beside him in the worn pew sat the
Marquis and Marquise de Clamard, and the rest of the worn pews were
filled with fisherfolk and Marianne sat on my left, and old Pere Varnet
with Suzette beyond him--and every one's eyes were upon Alice and
Tanrade, for they were good to look upon. And it was over quickly, and I
was glad of it, for the candle flames had begun to form halos before my
eyes.
And so we went on singing through the village amid the booming of
shotguns in honour of the newly wed, to the house abandoned. And all the
while the new bells that Alice had so generously regiven rang lustily
from the gray belfry--rang clear--rang out after us, all the way back to
the house abandoned and were still ringing when we sat down to our jolly
breakfast.
"Let them ring!" cried the cure. "I have two old salts of the sea taking
turns at the rope," he confided in my ear. "Ring on!" he cried aloud, as
we lifted our glasses to the bride--"Ring loud--that the good God may
hear!"
And how lovely the room looked, for the table was a mass of roses fresh
from Paris, and the walls and ceiling were green with mistletoe and
holly. Moreover, the old room was warm with the hearts of friends and
the cheer from blazing logs that crackled merrily up the blackened
throat of my chimney. And there were kisses with this feast that came
from the heart; and sound red wine that went to it. And later, the
courtyard was filled with villagers come to congratulate and to drink
the health of the bride and groom.
* * * * *
They are gone.
And the thrice-happy Suzette is dreaming of her own wedding to come, for
it is long past midnight and I am alone with my wise old cat--"The
Essence of Selfishness," and my good and faithful spaniel whom I call
"Mr. Bear," for he looks like a
|