So, too, on the next day but one, when she set out for the Church of Isaac, where the ceremony was to take place, she was as fresh and bright-looking, in her dress of white moiré covered with wonderful lace that had belonged to her husband's mother. Her entry into the basilica, leaning on the arm of General Podoi, was an undoubted triumph. The middle-aged lover of the countess would not, for anything in the world, have delegated his right to lead to the altar, as her "father of honor," her whom more and more he regarded as his daughter. Lise, to gain the chair with armorial bearings that awaited her, had to pass through a friendly crowd made up of all the nobility of St. Petersburg. The frogged and decorated uniforms, the fine dresses, the diamonds and their beautiful wearers, were a dazzling sight. The prince offered his arm to one of the greatest ladies of the court, the Princess Iwacheff, who acted as "mother of honor" to him, but was not a relative, as the custom usually requires. Then came the Countess Barineff. Gratified as her pride was, she still wore a calm and dignified air. She might have been by right of birth of the world into one of the first ranks of which her daughter was entering. The emperor was represented by one of his _aides-de-camp_. The arch-priest himself officiated, and when the daughter of the actor Dumesnil had become a princess, she received with perfect good-breeding the compliments of those who defiled before her. A few hours later a princely dinner was served to more than a hundred guests at Pierre Olsdorf's mansion. Next day the Princess Lise entered on the noble life for which she had been so long under preparation. The prince had intended to quit the city for Pampeln immediately after his marriage; but the season was far advanced, the winter was coming on rapidly, and the Countess Barineff pointed out that he ought not to deprive his young wife of the entertainments to which she would be invited in St. Petersburg, in order to shut her up in a château at a season of the year when it must necessarily be lonely. Pierre, as much out of deference to his mother-in-law as from affection for Lise--of whom he seemed very fond--put off the departure for his estate until the following spring. His house--as the countess had promised herself it should--soon became one of the most brilliant in St. Petersburg. The fact was not altogether pleasing to the prince. He had never cared much for the world, and he would rather have had his wife more for himself alone; but he gave way with a good grace, and balls and receptions succeeded each other at his house throughout the first six months of his marriage. The Princess Olsdorf had her box at the Michael Theatre and at the Italian opera; she was to be seen at all the court balls; no sledge was horsed like hers; the greatest ladies of the Russian nobility became her friends; she was famed in all the gossip of the day for her elegance, wit, and beauty.