In this way was the news of the approaching marriage between Valentine and Henri announced to the Society.

“The little intriguer!” murmured the churchwarden, nudging the elbow of his Maegera.

The General, who noted the effect which this announcement had produced upon the peevish pair, divined the malicious words upon the hypocritical lips.  He drew the husband aside, and put one hand upon his shoulder.

“Desvanneaux,” he said, “you have known me twenty-five years, and you know that I am a man of my word.  If ever a malevolent word from you regarding my wife should come to my ears, I shall elongate yours to such a degree that those of King Midas will be entirely eclipsed!  Remember that!”

The ceremony took place six weeks later, in the church of St. Honore-d’Eylau, which was not large enough to hold the numerous public and the brilliant corps of officers that assisted.

The witnesses for the bridegroom were the military governor of Paris and the Duc de Montgeron.  Those of the bride were the aide-de-camp General Lenaieff, in full uniform, wearing an astrachan cap and a white cloak with the Russian eagle fastened in the fur; and the Chevalier de Sainte-Foy.

On the evening before, a last letter from his former mistress had come to the General: 

   “I have heard all the details of your romance, my dear Henri.  Its
   conclusion is according to all dramatic rules, and I congratulate
   you without reserve.

“If, on the eve of contracting this happy union, an examination of your conscience should suggest to you some remorse for having abandoned me so abruptly, let me say that no shadow, not even the lightest, must cloud the serenity of this joyous day:  I am about to leave the stage forever, to become the wife of the Baron de Samoreau!

          “Always affectionately yours,
                    “Eugenie Gontier.”

     ETEXT editor’s bookmarks: 

     All that was illogical in our social code
     Only a man, wavering and changeable
     Their Christian charity did not extend so far as that
     There are mountains that we never climb but once

     ETEXT editor’s bookmarks for the entire ZEBELINE: 

     All that was illogical in our social code
     Ambiguity has no place, nor has compromise
     But if this is our supreme farewell, do not tell me so! 
     Chain so light yesterday, so heavy to-day
     Every man is his own master in his choice of liaisons
     If I do not give all I give nothing
     Indulgence of which they stand in need themselves
     Life goes on, and that is less gay than the stories
     Men admired her; the women sought some point to criticise
     Only a man, wavering and changeable
     Ostensibly you sit at the feast without paying the cost