When all the honest _bourgeois_ friends of Bonnaud and Lansade had satisfied their appetites, they did not leave the table, but began to drink, and, as they drank, they sang. It was Bonnaud himself, the father of the bride, who commenced: the guests joined in the chorus. Take ten men of the world, accustomed to every variety of debauch, give them the means to indulge in the most fearful orgies, and at the moment when the riot and revel are at their height call them to the window to see a newly-married couple pass from church. Then you will behold a novel and curious spectacle. The orgies will cease; the ribald song will be hushed. The happy couple will pass, and the innocent laugh of their friends will alone disturb the silence of the hour. These revellers are suddenly reminded of their sisters, of their mothers, and of the days of their youth, blighted and darkened by vice and debauchery. Well, for marriage--this solemn and formidable sacrament,--this act, horrible, or sublime, which rivets forever two beings to a chain, of which each broken link is a grief or a shame--the _bourgeois_ have not the least respect. They await the moment when the priest shall have finished, to break forth in silly songs or idle jests. CHAPTER XLVI. Great sorrows only encroach upon one’s life little by little, and Heaven has given to the man who must experience such trials the strength to support them. In the presence of a great misfortune, nature seems to harden itself; it bends or breaks only under the petty miseries of existence. On the day after his marriage, Eusebe began to realize the depth of his love for Adéonne. He felt that the simple pronunciation of the sacramental words by a man in priestly robes did not suffice to destroy the greatest of human weaknesses,--habit. By nature mild and honest, the son of the skeptic Martin did not seek to deceive himself. He saw the magnitude of his misfortune, and determined to bear it with resignation. Daily and nightly comparisons between the objects by which he was then surrounded, and those to which he had been accustomed, destroyed his tranquillity of mind and heart. The modest coldness of Clementine’s manner contrasted painfully with the passionate enthusiasm of Adéonne. The sober simplicity of his wife had no charm for him like the warm sympathy of the actress. The interior of the chemical factory gave him the vertigo. He never touched the books in the counting-house without fear and disgust. He regretted the pleasures of the past, and suffered continually from _ennui_ and gloom. CHAPTER XLVII. One morning, an irresistible impulse drove Eusebe to visit Adéonne. “Jenny,” said he, on entering the house, “where is madame?” “Madame is dead,” replied the girl, beginning to weep.