“Ah! how I love you! my beloved, my adored Marsa! How I love you, and how happy I am!”
CHAPTER XXI. “THE TZIGANA IS THE MOST LOVED OF ALL!”
The chimes rang forth a merry peal, and Mendelssohn’s music still thundered its triumphal accents, as the marriage guests left the church.
“It is a beautiful wedding, really a great success! The bride, the decorations, the good peasants and the pretty girls—everything is simply perfect. If I ever marry again,” laughed the Baroness, “I shall be married in the country.”
“You have only to name the day, Baroness,” said old Vogotzine, inspired to a little gallantry.
And Jacquemin, with a smile, exclaimed, in Russian:
“What a charming speech, General, and so original! I will make a note of it.”
The carriages rolled away toward Marsa’s house through the broad avenues, turning rapidly around the fountains of the park, whose jets of water laughed as they fell and threw showers of spray over the masses of flowers. Before the church, the children disputed for the money and bonbons Prince Andras had ordered to be distributed. In Marsa’s large drawing-rooms, where glass and silver sparkled upon the snowy cloth, servants in livery awaited the return of the wedding-party. In a moment there was an assault, General Vogotzine leading the column. All appetites were excited by the drive in the fresh air, and the guests did honor to the pates, salads, and cold chicken, accompanied by Leoville, which Jacquemin tasted and pronounced drinkable.
The little Baroness was ubiquitous, laughing, chattering, enjoying herself to her heart’s content, and telling every one that she was to leave that very evening for Trouviile, with trunks, and trunks, and trunks—a host of them! But then, it was race-week, you know!