Eustache de Ribaumont, a knight of Picardy, bidding him say
everywhere that it was a gift from the King of England to the
bravest of knights.

The precious heirlooms were scarcely held with the respect due to
an ornament so acquired. The manly garb for the first time assumed
by his sturdy legs, and the possession of the little sword, were
evidently the most interesting parts of the affair to the youthful
husband, who seemed to find in them his only solace for the weary
length of the ceremony. He was a fine, handsome little fellow,
fair and rosy, with bright blue eyes, and hair like shining flax,
unusually tall and strong-limbed for his age; and as he gave his
hand to his little bride, and walked with her under a canopy up to
kneel at the High Altar, for the marriage blessing and the mass,
they looked like a full-grown couple seen through a diminishing-
glass.

The little bride was perhaps a less beautiful child, but she had a
splendid pair of black eyes, and a sweet little mouth, both set
into the uncomprehending solemnity of baby gravity and contentment
in fine clothes. In accordance with the vow indicated by her name
of Marie, her dress was white and blue, turquoise forget-me-nots
bound the little lace veil on her dark chestnut hair, the bosom of
her white satin dress was sprinkled with the same azure jewel, and
turquoises bordered every seam of the sweeping skirt with a train
befitting a count's daughter, and meandered in gorgeous
constellations round the hem. The little thing lisped her own vows
forth without much notion of their sense, and indeed was sometimes
prompted by her bridesmaid cousin, a pretty little girl a year
older, who thrust in her assistance so glibly that the King, as