At last the day arrived which was to witness the union of Frédéric and Constance. The Comte de Montreville was so overjoyed that he allowed his son to invite everyone he chose. Frédéric knew no better friend than Dubourg, who, with all his follies, had often given him proofs of a genuine attachment. Moreover, since Dubourg had inherited his aunt's property, he had become much more sensible. To be sure, he was always hard up about the middle of the month, but he had not pledged his income, and he had taken up dominoes instead of écarté, that being a game at which one gets much less excited. Ménard was not forgotten, either. The worthy man was much attached to Frédéric; he had been a little too indulgent on the journey, but the count had forgiven that; moreover, he had always acted with the best intentions. As for his fondness for the table, that is often considered in society an estimable quality. Constance was dressed with taste and elegance; but one could pay no heed to her toilet, in presence of her beauty and her charms; for happiness, which embellishes everything, adds to the fascination of a pretty face. The men can only admire that; as for the women, they see at a glance every detail of the costume, and can, at need, tell us how every pin was put in, and how many pleats there were in the gown, in front and behind; our perspicacity will never go so far as that. Frédéric was radiant with love; he did not lose sight of Constance, which is the surest means of having no unpleasant recollections. Frédéric was very comely, too; his face was noble and winning; and if the men admired Constance, the women were not inclined to pity her for marrying Frédéric. The general and the count felt the keenest satisfaction in the union of their children. In his joy, Monsieur de Valmont was more hilarious and effusive than the Comte de Montreville; but the latter smiled benignly upon everybody, and, for the first time, embraced his son tenderly. Monsieur Ménard was dressed with care and maintained a very sedate bearing until the dinner. As for Dubourg, he was overjoyed to be invited to his friend's wedding, and, as he desired to obtain the count's good graces, he assumed throughout the day such a dignified air, that he looked as if he had a fit of the _spleen_; and he tried so hard to be staid and respectable, that he might well have been taken for a man of sixty. Whenever the count approached him, he discoursed upon the illusive pleasures of the world, of the bliss of retirement, and of the joys that await the just man after death. He carried it so far, that the general said to Frédéric: "What a devil of a fellow your friend Dubourg is! Does he pass his time in graveyards? I have been to him once or twice to talk, and he at once quotes a passage from Young's _Night Thoughts_ or Massillon's _Petit Carême_. He's a very cheerful guest for a wedding party."