This room possessed a great charm for lady guests, who crowded it during the whole two hours of the reception.
Another room was elegantly fitted up for refreshments, that were laid upon many small tables, with services of pure gold and fine porcelain, and attended by servants out of livery who wore the evening dress of gentlemen, varied only by white satin vests, kid gloves and fragrant boutonnières.
Here the greatest skill of the best caterer in Paris had been expended in the many tempting delicacies of the table; and the rarest wines of the southern vineyards added their serpent charm to the feast.
This room found greatest favor from the elder ladies and the gentlemen.
But, after all, the most charming apartment of the many that were thrown open was that in which the bride and groom, the Prince and Princess Gherardini, received their guests.
They stood together near the door. Behind the princess were grouped her eight lovely bridesmaids, and near them sat Aunt Sophie, trying to keep herself out of sight, but enjoying the scene with all the zest of the youngest girl there. On the left of the princess stood Lilith, looking, every one said, the loveliest woman present. She still wore the rich but simple dress of ivory white brocade, and the ornaments of pearl on her bosom, on her arms and in her black hair; and now her cheeks and lips were flushed, and her eyes were brilliant with sympathetic excitement. Lilith, however, had acquired all the ease and grace of the bon ton, so that her animation only added glow and sparkle to her lovely face, and left her form and manner in perfect repose.
The baroness—I beg her pardon—the newly-wedded princess took care to present every one who approached the group to her friend, “Mrs. Wyvil.” And every one went away to talk of the beautiful creature. Some to ask others who this lovely Mrs. Wyvil could be; and to be told that she was a very wealthy young American widow, who had made a great sensation during the last season, but who was understood to be on the eve of marriage with some distinguished American statesman, whose name had escaped the memory of the latter, and so forth.
The princess perceived and enjoyed the triumph of her young protégée, even in the midst of her own bridal ovation; and occasionally a humorous smile curled her beautiful lips and lighted her blue eyes, as if she was enjoying in anticipation some rare, good jest; and semi-occasionally, as it were, she slightly craned her graceful neck and tried to look through the nearer crowd and beyond towards the approaching one.
“For whom are you watching, madame?” inquired the prince, in a low voice, as soon as he got an opportunity to speak to his bride.
“Oh, for an old friend of mine whom I particularly pressed to come to us to-day,” replied the princess. “And there he is, slowly working his way through this human thicket,” she added, as her eyes lighted up with animation.