"Well, the great day is over. You are both married. You don't belong to
me any longer. How I shall miss you! This morning I had two children,
and now--"

"You have four," interrupted Micheline. "Why do you complain?"

"I don't complain," retorted Madame Desvarennes, quickly.

"That's right!" said Micheline, gayly.

Then going toward Jeanne:

"But you are not speaking, you are so quiet; are you ill?"

Jeanne shuddered, and made an effort to soften the hard lines on her
face.

"It is nothing. A little fatigue."

"And emotion," added Micheline. "This morning when we entered the
church, at the sound of the organ, in the midst of flowers, surrounded by
all our friends, I felt that I was whiter than my veil. And the crossing
to my place seemed so long, I thought I should never get there. I did
so, though. And now everybody calls me 'Madame' and some call me
'Princess.' It amuses me!"

Serge had approached.

"But you are a Princess," said he, smiling, "and everybody must call you