Our betrothed were united in a small church in the Marais. Nothing extraordinary took place during the ceremony, except that the mother-in-law used two handkerchiefs, and that Bélan made horrible faces in his attempts to weep with her, but without success.
I had hoped that the breakfast would be at a restaurant; but we were bidden to return to the mother-in-law’s. That certainly required courage. Eugénie and I looked at each other, vowing, albeit a little late, that we would never be caught in such a scrape again.
The bridegroom went ahead, doubtless to have his rose leaves swept away. I was sure that he would do the sweeping himself rather than expose himself to his mother-in-law’s wrath.
A long table was laid in the dining-room. We took our seats; I was between the old aunt with a nose like a snail’s shell and the tall cousin who had fallen so hard on the stairway; my wife was a mile away from me, between two old uncles with lace cuffs and curly wigs. How we were likely to enjoy ourselves!
I expected to see Giraud and his wife at the breakfast, for Giraud had been declaring everywhere that it was he who had arranged Bélan’s marriage. But evidently the mother-in-law had not deemed them worthy of that honor, and we should not see them until evening.
The bride kept her eyes on the floor and did not eat. The mother-in-law looked at her daughter, wiped her eyes, and seemed not to realize that there was anybody there. We sat at the table two minutes without touching anything, no one having been requested to serve. Bélan, uncertain whether he was expected to do the honors, glanced at his wife and his mother-in-law in turn, and faltered:
“Who is to serve? Does Madame de Beausire desire me to serve?”
But Madame de Beausire replied only by blowing her nose and sighing.
I looked at my wife; I had such a mad desire to laugh that I dropped my knife and fork on the floor, so that I might indulge it a little while fumbling under the table. I chose to be considered awkward rather than discourteous.
At last an old uncle, who had not come to the wedding simply to look at the dishes, although that would have been more dignified than to eat them, drew an enormous pie toward him and gave the signal for the attack. We decided to breakfast, notwithstanding Madame de Beausire’s sighs; but we did it with a decorum and gravity which were interrupted only by the noise of the plates and the forks.