Each meal was as good as a play, and every glimpse they had of the little pair gave fresh food for mirth. Everything was so formal and polite, so utterly unlike the free-and-easy customs of their native land, that they were kept in alternate states of indignation and amusement the whole time. Jules never was alone with his Pelagie for an instant; such a breach of etiquette would have shocked the entire town. In the walks and drives which the family took together, Madame was always at the Colonel's side; while Gaston escorted his sister, looking as if he was fast reaching a state of mind when he would give her away without a pang. Many guests came and went, much kissing and bowing, prancing and rustling, went on, up and down stairs. Stately old gentlemen called, papers were signed, fortunes discussed, and gifts displayed. Pelagie went much to mass; also to the barber's and the bath. Agitated milliners flew in and out. A great load of trunks arrived from Nantes, where Madame formerly lived; and the day before the wedding a whole carriage full of Clomadocs appeared, and Babel seemed to have come again. A great supper was given that evening, and the Three were banished to their own rooms; where, however, they fared sumptuously, for Madame C. and good old Marie ate with them, having no place left them but the kitchen. Madame C. was much hurt that she had not been asked to the wedding. It seemed the least Madame F. could do after taking possession of the house, and turning its rightful owner out of every room but the attic. Madame C. was a gentlewoman; and though a meek old soul, this rudeness hurt her very much. She said nothing; but Marie fumed and scolded fiercely, and proposed that the neglected ones should all go away on the wedding-day, and make a _fete_ for themselves somewhere. So they decided to drive to Dinare, enjoy the fine views of the sea and St. Malo, dine, and return at dusk, leaving the house free for the wedding festivities. The day was fine, and the ladies were graciously invited to behold the bride before she left for church. She looked as much like a fashion-plate as it was possible for a living girl to look; and they dutifully kissed her on both cheeks, paid their compliments and retired, thanking their stars that they were not in her place.