On that same day I became acquainted with Salomé’s fiancé; before that time he had been no frequent visitor at the house. The first call which he had made, a few days previously, had been connected with the ceremonious proposal for the hand of his chosen. “Chosen” is the wrong expression; I should have said “the lady intended for him.” He pleased me very well—twenty-one years of age, exceedingly tall and slender in figure, a thin blond imperial, dazzling teeth, faultlessly elegant and assured behavior. It must be confessed, not a trace of tenderness: as he preserved a severely correct, not to say chillingly ceremonious, behavior toward every one, so he did even toward his betrothed.
Every morning, from that time forth, came the traditional great bouquet of flowers, sent to the house by a messenger, and in the afternoon appeared the suitor himself to faire son cour for a brief hour.
The wedding was celebrated in the early days of May, 1868. A wedding which embraced three separate ceremonies,—first the civil service in the mairie, then a forenoon wedding according to the Catholic rite in the Tuileries, in the presence of the Emperor and Empress, and at nine o’clock that same evening in the Greek church according to the Orthodox rite. I participated in this last ceremony as first bridesmaid. My function consisted in holding a crown over the bride’s head during the whole marriage service. An illustrious company filled the brightly lighted, flower-decorated chapel. The ladies’ toilets were of great magnificence. The bride wore a veil which had been made for her at Brussels, with her family arms, the Golden Fleece, woven into its fabric. It flowed down from a diadem of diamonds, the Empress Eugénie’s wedding gift. The bride’s mother was adorned with the stars and ribbons of various orders. Among the jewels that were here displayed, I was especially struck by the historic set of emeralds which the bridegroom’s sister, the celebrated beauty Anne Murat, the wife of the Duc de Mouchy-Noailles, had put on in honor of this solemn occasion.
And is it not to a certain extent humiliating that I myself on this occasion allowed the parade of toilets and jewelry to sink so deep into my mind that at this day I can still see it all? I will even confess that I remember what I myself wore,—a gown made by Worth, of white gauze over rose-colored silk lining, garnished with innumerable little volants from the waist to the train—it is to be hoped that at that important and solemn hour when my friend stood before the altar to be dedicated to an unknown destiny, I thought of something besides those many little spangles; but it is a fact that I still see the rose-pink shimmer rippling through the white threads of the gauze.
After the wedding there was a small ball at the princess’s. The innumerable volants had an opportunity to whirl around in the dance, and I remember that my partner in the first quadrille was a Prince Bourbon. The newly wedded pair had disappeared from the festivity early and unobserved. They had decided not to take a wedding journey; they took up their residence at once in their newly furnished petit hôtel in the Rue de Pressbourg.
There I spent many hours. Salomé usually invited me to dinner, and I was expected to come an hour earlier so that we might have time to chat before the husband and the guests should appear. After dinner, especially when we three were alone, we usually went to some one of the so-called petits théâtres, which Salomé was not allowed to attend before she was married, and which it now gave her much amusement to become acquainted with. I ought not by rights to have been taken along either, being still unmarried; but, in the first place, now that I was twenty-four years old I was no longer included in the category of young girls, and in the next place, in the baignoire we were invisible to the general public.
My friend seemed to feel very happy; at least she was always cheerful and in good humor, and took delight in all the festivities and receptions that were held in her honor in the circle of her new family, at court, at her husband’s parents’, at the Mouchys’. She took me with her to her relatives, and so I shared in many of these entertainments. But the season soon drew to an end, summer was upon us, and society scattered.
The young couple went first for a few weeks to the ducal château of Mouchy, and planned to be at Baden-Baden for the rest of the season. Hereupon I urged my mother that we too should go to Baden-Baden. During the last part of the time I had greatly neglected my singing lessons in the Duprez school; it was becoming clearer and clearer to me that I had not such great talent as I had imagined, and I hoped in my secret heart that a sojourn in the great world’s splendid watering-place, where I should be included in my friend’s circle, might perhaps turn my fate in a different and happier direction. My mother may have cherished the same hope, or else she felt a drawing to the trente-et-quarante bank in order once more to test whether the old gift of divination might not make its appearance even now; in brief, we started off for Baden-Baden.
XI
SEASON IN BADEN-BADEN
Resumption of trente-et-quarante · Baroness Seutter · Acquaintance with King William I of Prussia · A letter from the king
We took up our quarters in the large Villa Mesmer, situated opposite the Kursaal, where Queen Augusta of Prussia was accustomed to lodge during her yearly visits to this watering-place. She was not to arrive till a few weeks later, and in the meantime we were assigned to a part of her suite, including the large drawing-room, the windows of which gave upon the park. Impatiently I awaited the arrival of the Murats, who had already engaged rooms at the Villa Stéphanie. The interesting life would begin only when my friends should make their appearance.