“Ah! I wish him joy,” said Camille, heartily. He then asked the landlord to open the window, as he felt rather faint. The landlord insisted on breakfast, and Camille sat down to an omelet and a bottle of red wine. Then he lay awhile near the window, revived by the air, and watched the dear little street he had not seen for years. He felt languid, but happy, celestially happy. She was a few doors from him, and neither knew it. A pen was put into her white hand, and in another moment she had signed a marriage contract. “Now to the church,” cried the baroness, gayly. To get to the church, they must pass by the window Camille reclined at. CHAPTER VIII. “Oh! there’s no time for that,” said Raynal. And as the baroness looked horrified and amazed, Picard explained: “The state marries its citizens now, with reason: since marriage is a civil contract.” “Marriage a civil contract!” repeated the baroness. “What, is it then no longer one of the holy sacraments? What horrible impiety shall we come to next? Unhappy France! Such a contract would never be a marriage in my eyes: and what would become of an union the Church had not blessed?” “Madame,” said Picard, “the Church can bless it still; but it is only the mayor here that can DO it.” All this time Josephine was blushing scarlet, and looking this way and that, with a sort of instinctive desire to fly and hide, no matter where, for a week or so. “Haw! haw! haw!” roared Raynal; “here is a pretty mother. Wants her daughter to be unlawfully married in a church, instead of lawfully in a house. Give me the will!” “Look here, mother-in-law: I have left Beaurepaire to my lawful wife.” “Otherwise,” put in Picard, “in case of death, it would pass to his heir-at-law.” “And HE would turn you all out, and that does not suit me. Now there stands the only man who can make mademoiselle my LAWFUL wife. So quick march, monsieur the mayor, for time and Bonaparte wait for no man.” “Stay a minute, young people,” said the mayor. “We should soothe respectable prejudices, not crush them. Madam, I am at least as old as you, and have seen many changes. I perfectly understand your feelings.” “Ah, monsieur! oh!” “Calm yourself, dear madam; the case is not so bad as you think. It is perfectly true that in republican France the civil magistrate alone can bind French citizens in lawful wedlock. But this does not annihilate the religious ceremony. You can ask the Church’s blessing on my work; and be assured you are not the only one who retains that natural prejudice. Out of every ten couples that I marry, four or five go to church afterwards and perform the ancient ceremonies. And they do well. For there before the altar the priest tells them what it is not my business to dilate upon--the grave moral and religious duties they have undertaken along with this civil contract. The state binds, but the Church still blesses, and piously assents to that”-- “From which she has no power to dissent.”