Mamma was gorgeous to behold, in royal purple and black lace. Gaston was so glossy and beruffled and begemmed, that they gazed with awe upon the French Adonis. But the bridegroom was a sight for gods and men. In full regimentals with a big sword, so many orders that there was hardly room for them on his little breast, and a cocked hat, with a forest of feathers, in which he extinguished himself at intervals. How his tiny boots shone, his tawny moustache bristled with importance, and his golden epaulets glittered as he shrugged and pranced! His honoured papa and mamma were both tall, portly people, beside whom the manikin looked like a child. Livy quite longed to see Madame Clomadoc take little Jules on her knee, and amuse him with _bonbons_ when he got impatient at the delay of the carriage. The Three peeped out of windows, and over the banisters, and got fine glimpses of the splendours below. Flocks of elegant ladies went sailing up the narrow stairs. Gentlemen with orders, dandies wonderful to behold, and a few children (to play with the bridegroom, as Livy wickedly said), adorned the hall and _salon_. Every one talked at the top of his or her voice. Shrieks of rapture, groans of despair, greeted a fine toilette or a torn glove. Peals of laughter from the gentlemen, and shrill cries from the infants, echoed through the once peaceful halls. As Francoise said 'It was truly divine.' At eleven, every one trooped into the carriages again. How they ever got so many full-dressed people into one carriage is a mystery to this day. But in they piled, regardless of trains, corpulency, or height; and coach after coach lumbered away to the church. The bride's carriage could not be got very near the door. So she tripped out to it, leaning on her uncle's arm, while the devoted Gaston bore her train. Mamma sailed after in a purple cloud; and when two young damsels, in arsenic green, were packed in, away they went, leaving the bridegroom to follow. Then came the catastrophe! Stout papa and mamma were safely in; a friend of Jules, some six feet high, shut himself up like a jack-knife; and with a farewell wave of the cocked hat, the small bridegroom skipped in after them. The coachman cracked his whip, intending to dash under the arched gateway in fine style. But alas! the harness was old, the big horses clumsy, and the road half paved. The traces gave way, the beasts reared, the big coach lurched, and dismal wails arose. Out burst the fierce little hero of the day, and the tall friend followed by instalments.