"Monsieur, the proprieties and etiquette should go before love. Corbleu! If I had not formed the plan of marrying my daughter—But he doesn’t come! he cannot say this time that it was the horse that detained him."
At last Robineau appeared, flushed and perspiring and gasping for breath; he glided to the side of his bride and his father-in-law; the latter seized his hand and squeezed it fiercely, saying in his ear:
"Monsieur, you will give me satisfaction after the ceremony."
Robineau no longer knew where he was; luckily for him, the contracting parties were summoned to the altar. He walked thither with Cornélie; the ceremony began, and while it was in progress, Monsieur de la Pincerie, who had become calmer, reflected that it would not be proper to challenge his son-in-law on the very day of his wedding.
The ceremony was at an end. Cornélie had become Madame de la Roche-Noire, and Robineau had ceased to be a bachelor. They received the compliments, the congratulations, sincere or insincere, of the persons who had come to witness the nuptial benediction; then they left the town and returned to the château, still in the same order as in the former journey; but Robineau did not stop the carriage once.
It was four o’clock when they reached the château. The ladies went at once to their apartments to change their dresses; for women who go much into society, who attend many fêtes and balls and ceremonies, spend a large part of their life in dressing and undressing.
About a dozen persons who were invited to the dinner soon joined the company already assembled at the château. At each new arrival, monsieur le marquis took Robineau by the hand and went forward to meet those who entered the salon, saying solemnly:
"I present my son-in-law to you."
Thereupon the newcomers would congratulate the marquis, then Robineau, and after looking about to see if there were anyone else to congratulate, would take seats in the salon. But it seemed as if all those people had agreed beforehand not to smile, and as if it were the general opinion in the provinces that it was bad form to be cheerful on a wedding-day. So that it was necessary to try to kill time by talking upon insignificant subjects with people who were able to discuss nothing else. Alfred did what he could to enliven the conversation; but he himself was disturbed, and the remembrance of his experience in the tower occupied his mind more than Robineau’s marriage. Edouard, too, tried to make himself agreeable, but he cursed under his breath the length of the day.
Two hours had elapsed since the ladies had gone upstairs, when they finally appeared in the salon. Cornélie’s costume was more coquettish than that of the morning, and this time Robineau was so dazzled that he was obliged to sit down for fear that he would be dizzy. The compliments began to circulate anew. During the curtsies and the salutations, Robineau went to a corner of the salon to rub his temples with cologne; then he returned with a somewhat less timid air to his wife, who was attentive to everybody but her husband.