This was the first of the numerous sacrifices which Mademoiselle Cormon was destined to make to her husband.  Du Bousquier bore the deepest hatred to Choisnel; to him he owed the refusal of the hand of Mademoiselle Armande,—­a refusal which, as he believed, had influenced that of Mademoiselle Cormon.  This circumstance alone made the marriage drag along.  Mademoiselle received several anonymous letters.  She learned, to her great astonishment, that Suzanne was as truly a virgin as herself so far as du Bousquier was concerned, for that seducer with the false toupet could never be the hero of any such adventure.  Mademoiselle Cormon disdained anonymous letters; but she wrote to Suzanne herself, on the ground of enlightening the Maternity Society.  Suzanne, who had no doubt heard of du Bousquier’s proposed marriage, acknowledged her trick, sent a thousand francs to the society, and did all the harm she could to the old purveyor.  Mademoiselle Cormon convoked the Maternity Society, which held a special meeting at which it was voted that the association would not in future assist any misfortunes about to happen, but solely those that had happened.

In spite of all these various events which kept the town in the choicest gossip, the banns were published in the churches and at the mayor’s office.  Athanase prepared the deeds.  As a matter of propriety and public decency, the bride retired to Prebaudet, where du Bousquier, bearing sumptuous and horrible bouquets, betook himself every morning, returning home for dinner.

At last, on a dull and rainy morning in June, the marriage of Mademoiselle Cormon and the Sieur du Bousquier took place at noon in the parish church of Alencon, in sight of the whole town.  The bridal pair went from their own house to the mayor’s office, and from the mayor’s office to the church in an open caleche, a magnificent vehicle for Alencon, which du Bousquier had sent for secretly to Paris.  The loss of the old carriole was a species of calamity in the eyes of the community.  The harness-maker of the Porte de Seez bemoaned it, for he lost the fifty francs a year which it cost in repairs.  Alencon saw with alarm the possibility of luxury being thus introduced into the town.  Every one feared a rise in the price of rents and provisions, and a coming invasion of Parisian furniture.  Some persons were sufficiently pricked by curiosity to give ten sous to Jacquelin to allow them a close inspection of the vehicle which threatened to upset the whole economy of the region.  A pair of horses, bought in Normandie, were also most alarming.

“If we bought our own horses,” said the Ronceret circle, “we couldn’t sell them to those who come to buy.”

Stupid as it was, this reasoning seemed sound; for surely such a course would prevent the region from grasping the money of foreigners.  In the eyes of the provinces wealth consisted less in the rapid turning over of money than in sterile accumulation.  It may be mentioned here that Penelope succumbed to a pleurisy which she acquired about six weeks before the marriage; nothing could save her.