Rose, however, still merrily laughing, clung to her plan.  “No, no, mamma, you must come as well; everybody must come; it was promised.  Ambroise and Andree, you see, are like a royal couple from a neighboring kingdom.  My brother Ambroise, having won the hand of a foreign princess, is going to present her to us.  And so, to do them the honors of our own empire, we, Frederic and I, must go to meet them, attended by the whole Court.  You form the Court and you cannot do otherwise than come.  Ah what a fine sight it will be when we spread out through the country on our way home again!”

Marianne, amused by her daughter’s overflowing gayety, ended by laughing and giving way.

“This will be the order of the march,” resumed Rose.  “Oh!  I’ve planned everything, as you will see!  As for Frederic and myself, we shall go on our bicycles—­that is the most modern style.  We will also take my maids of honor, my little sisters Louise, Madeleine, and Marguerite, eleven, nine, and seven years old, on their bicycles.  They will look very well behind me.  Then Gregoire can follow on his wheel; he is thirteen, and will do as a page, bringing up the rear of my personal escort.  All the rest of the Court will have to pack itself into the chariot—­I mean the big family wagon, in which there is room for eight.  You, as Queen Mother, may keep your last little prince, Nicolas, on your knees.  Papa will only have to carry himself proudly, as befits the head of a dynasty.  And my brother Gervais, that young Hercules of seventeen, shall drive, with Claire, who at fifteen is so remarkable for common sense, beside him on the box-seat.  As for the illustrious twins, those high and mighty lords, Denis and Blaise, we will call for them at Janville, since they are waiting for us there, at Madame Desvignes’.”

Thus did Rose rattle on, exulting over the scheme she had devised.  She danced, sang, clapped her hands, and finally exclaimed:  “Ah! for a pretty cortege this will be fine indeed.”

She was animated by such joyous haste that she made the party start much sooner than was necessary, and they reached Janville at half-past nine.  It was true, however, that they had to call for the others there.  The house in which Madame Desvignes had taken refuge after her husband’s death, and which she had now occupied for some twelve years, living there in a very quiet retired way on the scanty income she had managed to save, was the first in the village, on the high road.  For a week past her elder daughter Charlotte, Blaise’s wife, had come to stay there with her children, Berthe and Christophe, who needed change of air; and on the previous evening they had been joined by Blaise, who was well pleased to spend Sunday with them.