First came the bride, leaning on the arm of her old friend, the Duc de L——. She was, of course, the observed of all observers. She wore a trained dress of white Genoa velvet, richly embroidered with seed pearls and trimmed with marabout feathers. Being a widow, she wore no orange blossoms; but her golden tresses were crowned with a diadem of pearls and diamonds in three bands, while down on the graceful neck floated a tuft of marabout feathers and over all the sumptuous costume flowed a rich old cardinal point lace vail. Pearl and diamond necklace in a dozen graded festoons encircled her fair neck and lay upon her white bosom. Pearl and diamond bracelets clasped the lovely arms. Kid gloves, embroidered with small pearls, and trimmed with point lace, covered the slender yet plump hands. White boots to match the gloves encased the shapely feet. In her hand she carried a bouquet of rare white exotics.
Behind her followed eight bridesmaids, in thread lace dresses, looped with rosebuds, over white silk skirts; white gloves, wreaths and bouquets of white rosebuds.
Lilith wore a trained dress of ivory white brocade satin, trimmed with duchess lace; pearl necklace and bracelets on her pretty neck and arms, and a pearl bandeau in her dark hair.
Aunt Sophie was very grand in a black flowered satin, a black velvet dolman, and a black plush bonnet—all the gifts forced upon her acceptance by the baroness. The bridegroom, with his attendants, came out of the vestry as the bride’s party filed up the aisle to the music of Mendelssohn’s wedding march.
The two parties met at the altar and kneeled upon the hassocks prepared for them.
The music ceased, and the ceremony began. It was rather more lengthy, stately and solemn than such rites usually are. But at last it was over; the benediction was pronounced; the register was signed and witnessed; intimate friends crowded around the newly married pair with congratulations more or less sincere.
It was one o’clock before the bridal cortège and the wedding congregation entered their carriages and dispersed, to meet again at four o’clock at the reception to be held at the home of the bride.
At the hour fixed the guests began to arrive, and soon all the reception-rooms were filled with one of the most brilliant crowds that had ever assembled in Paris salons.
The whole house, profusely decorated with the rarest flowers, was thrown open to the guests.
One room of the suite was given up to the exhibition of the wedding presents; tables arranged around the walls and set here and there through the room, were laden with the richest, rarest and most beautiful products of modern art and science in manufactures. Jewels that seemed poems; watches that seemed vital; India shawls that were perfect studies of finest workmanship; services of gold, pearl, porcelain of wonderful grace and elegance in form; laces and embroideries of marvelous pattern and design; dress fabrics of velvet, satin, silk, crêpe, gauze, and so forth, that seemed woven for the wearing of goddesses and fairies rather than for clothing any woman of mere flesh and blood.