On the evening of that day, a cab came to fetch Saturnin away. His mother had declared that it was too dangerous for him to be at the ceremony; one could not cast loose a madman who talked of spitting people in the midst of a wedding party; and, Monsieur Josserand, broken-hearted, had been obliged to apply for the admission of the poor fellow into the Asile des Moulineaux, kept by Doctor Chassagne. The cab was brought under the porch at twilight. Saturnin came down holding Berthe’s hand, and thinking he was going with her into the country. But when he was inside the cab, he struggled furiously, breaking the windows and thrusting his bloody fists through them. And Monsieur Josserand returned up-stairs weeping, all upset by this departure in the dark, his ears ringing with the wretched creature’s yells, mingled with the cracking of the whip and the gallop of the horse.
The marriage before the mayor had taken place on the Thursday. On the Saturday morning, as early as a quarter past ten, some ladies were already waiting in the Josserands’ drawing-room, the religious ceremony being fixed for eleven o’clock, at Saint-Roch. There were Madame Juzeur, always in black silk; Madame Dambreville, tightly laced in a costume of the color of dead leaves; and Madame Duveyrier, dressed very simply in pale blue. All three were conversing in low tones amongst the scattered chairs; whilst Madame Josserand was finishing dressing Berthe in the adjoining room, assisted by the servant and the two bridesmaids, Hortense and little Campardon.
“Oh! it is not that,” murmured Madame Duveyrier; “the family is honorable. But, I admit, I rather dreaded on my brother Auguste’s account the mother’s domineering spirit. One cannot be too careful, can one?”
“No doubt,” said Madame Juzeur; “one not only marries the daughter, one often marries the mother as well, and it is very unpleasant when the latter interferes in the home.”
This time Angèle and Hortense opened the folding doors wide so that the bride should not catch her dress in anything; and Berthe appeared in a white silk dress, all gay with white flowers, with a white wreath, a white bouquet, and a white garland, which crossed the skirt, and was lost in the train in a shower of little white buds. She looked charming amidst all this whiteness, with her fresh complexion, her golden hair, her laughing eyes, and her candid mouth of an already enlightened girl.