She took Esterhazy's arm, and be placed her in the carriage. The old count followed, in speechless wonder.
At the door of the chapel, they were met by the empress's first lady of honor, who conducted the bride to the altar. The emperor walked by the side of Count Esterhazy. The face of the countess was radiant with happiness, and all who saw her confessed that she was lovely beyond all description.
And now the ceremonial began. The priest turned to Count Esterhazy and asked him if he took the Countess Maragret von Starhemberg for his wedded wife—to love, honor, and cherish her until death should them divide.
There was a pause, and Margaret looked with a bright smile at the face of her bridegroom. But the eyes of the spectators were fixed upon him in astonishment, and the brow of the empress grew stormy.
"Will you take this woman for your wedded wife?" repeated the priest.
"I will," said Esterhazy, in a loud firm voice.
A cry escaped from the lips of Margaret. She was so faint that she reeled and would have fallen, but for the friendly support of an arm that sustained her, and the witching tones of a voice that whispered: "Poor girl, remember that a cloister awaits you." She recognized the voice of the emperor; and overcoming her weakness, the courage of despair came to her help.
She raised herself from Joseph's arms and taking the vinaigrette that was tendered her by the lady of honor, she inhaled its reviving aroma; then she looked at the priest.
He continued, and repeated his solemn question to her. Etiquette required that before she answered, she should have the sanction of the empress. The countess turned, with a low inclination, to the lady of honor, who, in her turn, courtesied deeply to the empress.
Maria Theresa bowed acquiescence, and the bride, having thanked her with another courtesy, turned once more to the priest and said, "Yes."