Twelve young girls crowned with flowers, myself among them, preceded Barbara into the saloon. The eldest of our band had just finished her eighteenth year.
The colonel and the Abbé Vincent awaited us near the entrance of the great hall; we were met by the starost with twelve gentlemen. A broad platter, filled with flowers, was borne behind them: each bouquet was composed of rosemary, myrtle, and lemon and orange blossoms, tied up with knots of white ribbon. We young ladies carried gold and silver pins to fasten them on with.
My mother and the old ladies, who presided over the ceremonies, had instructed us in the proper method of conducting ourselves, and in all the forms necessary to be observed, in order that no one might be wounded or offended. We understood their instructions perfectly, but by the time we had fully entered the saloon, all was forgotten.
We began by putting on our bouquets in the most proper and solemn manner, but were soon seized by an irresistible desire to laugh. We committed a thousand follies and blunders, but were readily pardoned; and I cannot say I was surprised at that, for I had already remarked that no one bears malice toward young girls, especially when they are pretty.
Our gayety soon infected all the rest: married people, the old and young, those who had no possible claim to a bouquet, begged one of us, and we gave them with a good grace. In a few moments the whole pyramid of flowers had disappeared; the gold and silver pins were all disposed of, and we were forced to have recourse to ordinary ones; but as it was we who gave them, they were very well received. In short, every one was enchanted, and the hall bloomed like a garden with the flowers scattered around in every direction.
I suddenly perceived that our little Matthias had retired to a corner of the hall, and was looking very sad: he had received no bouquet. As I approached him, he said to me, in a low and sentimental tone of voice:
'All the young ladies have forgotten me, and I am not surprised: but you, Frances, you, whom I have carried in my arms—you, whom I have loved since your infancy—you should not have forgotten me.... Ah! it makes me very sad, for I foresee that even were you to marry the prince royal, I should not be at your wedding.'
I blushed to my very eyes: our poor Matthias was quite right. I ran as fast as I could to my chamber in search of a bouquet, but unfortunately they were every one gone; my mother had distributed them all among the guests. The gardener lives at a considerable distance from the castle, and I did not know what I should do, as I was most anxious Matthias should have his bouquet, apart from all consideration of his prophecy. Suddenly, an excellent idea occurred to me; I divided my own bouquet, tied up the half of it with a white ribbon, and fastened it to his buttonhole by a gold pin, keeping a common one for myself. Matthias was charmed with this proceeding, and said to me:
'Frances, you are better than beautiful; you are an angel of goodness. I am sometimes a prophet: may the desires I entertain for you be all fulfilled! I will carefully preserve this bouquet until your marriage.... What will you be, Frances, when I return it to you?'
How strange! Matthias's words occupied my mind during the whole evening. They rang in my ears, and I could not forget them.... But what an idea! Am I a Barbara Radziwill?[B] Are we still in the times when kings make misalliances?... What folly! I dream, when I should think only of my sister. I will return to the ceremony.