"Yes, I know very well that grandmamma has forbidden anyone to speak of it before Bijou, but, for my part, I want her to know about it."
XVII.
As she stood waiting at the threshold of the little church for her Uncle Alexis, who was just getting out of the carriage, Bijou turned round, and, after giving a little kick to her long white satin train, and pulling the folds of her veil over her face, she gazed round at the motley crowd, who were hurrying towards the church-porch, with that quick look in her luminous eyes which took in everything at a glance.
She saw first the profile of Jean de Blaye towering above the others; he was advancing towards her with an indifferent, languid expression on his face, and talking to M. de Rueille, who looked slightly nervous and excited. Henry de Bracieux, with a worried look on his face, was listening in an absent sort of way to the marchioness, as she gave her orders to the coachman.
Pierrot had got one of the tails of his coat, which was too short for him, caught in the carriage-door, and, with his big, white-gloved hands, he was awkwardly endeavouring to get free, but unsuccessfully.
M. Sylvestre, with an enormous roll of music under his arm, looking very nervous, and in a great hurry, was rushing towards the staircase which led to the gallery, without daring to lift his eyes from the ground; whilst Abbé Courteil, accompanied by his two pupils, passed by, looking very business-like—he, too, not venturing to glance in the direction of Bijou.
Jeanne Dubuisson, who had got rather thinner, was waiting with her father until the crowd made way for her to pass.
Among the Bracieux villagers, and just behind all the fine ladies and gentlemen, who had come from Pont-sur-Loire and the country-houses in the neighbourhood, Charlemagne Lavenue was pressing forward with long strides. He was dressed in his best clothes, and his square shoulders and ruddy complexion seemed to stand out against the background of blue sky.